The Steam Age: Gears and Bones

Chapter 18

Perfit stood beside the second line, quickly scanning everyone who passed in front of her—the survivors' pupils, gums, and neck skin, then the knights' wrists and collars.

There were no obvious bleeding points, no black vascular network, and the pupillary light reflex was normal.

The initial visual inspection gave her a slight sense of relief, but that was all.

Shabel and others were between the second and third lines.

She washed the hands and forearms of the five survivors one by one with water blessed by the scriptures, then took out a silver holy emblem and placed it on each of their foreheads, leaving it there for a few seconds.

No one exhibited a significant stress response—no burns, no visible black veins, no auditory hallucinations, or signs of mania. Preliminary test results were negative.

"Take them into the cabin." Perfit nodded to the medic, then fixed her gaze on the man with the corporal rank insignia on his uniform. She looked at him from three steps away, from his disheveled hair damp with disinfectant to his bony fingers gripping the edge of the blanket.

"Let them rest and eat something first. Once they're in stable condition, I'll question them one by one."

The five survivors were led toward the cabin.

Perfit stood beside the white line, watching their figures disappear behind the hatch, then turned around and said something to the flag captain.

"The same goes for you. All those who have disembarked will undergo another check-up tonight."

Sabel nodded and led the five survivors down to the lower deck.

The corporal paused as he passed Perfit, seemingly wanting to say something, but ultimately only whispered a thank you in Ross, then wrapped himself in the blanket and followed Sabel down the gangway.

Two hours later, the military doctor delivered the first round of re-examination reports: all five survivors had varying degrees of frostbite and malnutrition, and two of them had mild symptoms of pale skin, but it was not yet possible to determine whether it was due to early infection or anemia caused by prolonged starvation.

The patient's body temperature was normal, and the pupils reacted briskly to light. There were no signs of auditory hallucinations or mania.

Perfit read the report twice, drew a question mark in pencil on the "pale skin" section, then closed the folder and stood up.

"Take that corporal to the officers' lounge. I'll question him first."

The officers' lounge was a cabin that had been temporarily requisitioned and originally belonged to the first mate.

Perfit had the table pushed to the corner, leaving only two chairs in the center of the room, about four steps apart.

She sat in the chair near the door, her notebook open on her lap, a pencil held between her thumb and forefinger. Belfast stood behind her, her face expressionless behind her breathing mask.

When the corporal was brought in, he had changed into clean clothes and his hair had been washed, but his eyes still had a photophobia characteristic of someone who had been in the dark for too long.

He sat down in the chair, his fingers slightly curled on his knees, his knuckles protruding sharply from long-term malnutrition.

Perfit noticed that there was still some black grime stuck in his fingernails that hadn't been washed off.

"Your name and rank," Perfit asked.

"Krasov. Corporal, 12th Engineer Battalion, Infantry Division of the Rus' Empire Colony, under the jurisdiction of the St. Petersburg Military District." His voice was hoarse, as if he had sand in his throat, but his enunciation was still relatively clear.

"When did you lose contact with your superiors?"

"About four weeks ago. Maybe longer. I don't quite remember the exact number of days," Krasov said. "The last time we received a telegram from the division headquarters was about a week before we were trapped in the clock tower."

At that time, we were still in positions outside the port quarantine station when a telegram said that martial law was in effect throughout the city and that the remaining troops were required to seal off the epidemic area on the spot.

But by then we had almost no ammunition left.

Over the next few days, the telegraph signal grew weaker and weaker, and eventually it was cut off completely.

The medic attempted to contact the garrison north of the port using a signal flare, but received no response.

"The epidemic zone," Perfitt repeated the word. "Which areas did the Ross military designate as epidemic zones?"

"The port, the old town, and the entire Predelshinsk district," Krasov answered quickly, as if these place names were etched into his memory. "But when we received the orders, the old town was basically already completely occupied."

Not only civilians, but also military personnel are seeing infections every day.

The initial orders upon arrival were not to fire or retreat, but to wait for the chemical defense troops to take over.

But the chemical defense troops didn't arrive. Later, the order changed to "hold your ground," and then to "break out on your own."

He unconsciously rubbed his fingers on his knee, leaving a white mark on his skin with his nails. "By the time the order changed to 'break out on our own,' the division radio was no longer working. We didn't even know which way to break out."

Perfit quickly took notes in his notebook.

This information largely matches what Lieutenant General Chertsov provided, but Krasov added a crucial detail that Chertsov did not mention: the Russian military had attempted to deploy chemical defense troops to take over the affected area, but those troops ultimately failed to reach their destination.

How did the fire at the port start?

Krasov paused for a few seconds, then shook his head. "I don't know. We were keeping watch at the window on the second floor of the quarantine station, monitoring the situation on the sea. Then we heard an explosion from the warehouse area to the north—it could have been a gas pipeline explosion, or it could have been an ammunition depot detonation."

The fire spread so quickly that it reached Customs Street from the warehouse area in less than half an hour.

When we evacuated the quarantine station, the fire had already reached the third berth in the harbor. We then scrambled through several blocks before finally escaping into the clock tower. We have no idea who started the fire or how it started.

As he spoke, Perfit looked him in the eye without interrupting.

These details correspond to what she had seen through the telescope earlier—the north side of the port was significantly more severely burned than the south side, the exterior walls of the quarantine station building were covered in soot from top to bottom, while the clock tower, although its spire was charred, had a relatively intact main structure.

The fire did indeed spread from north to south.

But Krasov mentioned an "explosion" rather than a simple gas leak.

If an armory was detonated, it means that someone was still trying to destroy weapons—or something else—after the outbreak of the pandemic.

She marked this point of doubt separately on the edge of her notebook and then continued to ask questions.

"After you took cover in the clock tower, did you see or hear any regular troops passing by?"

Krasov shook his head again. "No troops passed by. We only heard gunfire twice during that period, both times from a distance. The first time was from the north, roughly in the direction of the Predelshinsk district, and it stopped after about ten shots."

The second time was from the west, further away, with only a few lonely sounds. Neither time was it aimed at the clock tower. The infected won't fire.

"Before you lost contact with your superiors, did you receive any instructions regarding the direction of retreat or troop assembly points?"