ISoTL Chapter Fifty-Nine (Patreon)

“Cholera?”

Haass nodded. “I’m afraid so, your Imperial Highness. The reports from Mukden are certain. The hospital there is close to overflowing.”

Alexander’s brows rose. Given the size of the thing, that was a terrifying prospect. Ten thousand hospitalized in a city of two, perhaps three hundred thousand. There were likely half that many dead already.

“We need to act swiftly then,” Alexander said. “What options do we have?”

“We need to quarantine southern Manchuria immediately. The Moscow quarantine bought time for Saint Petersburg, we can do the same now. We need to increase soap and coal production as well. I want every hand washed before it touches food or another person’s skin, and every drop of water boiled before it’s used for soup, drinking, or bathing. Both will need to be provided for free if we want to limit the outbreak.”

Alexander nodded. He opened his mouth, but Haass continued, his speech swifter than any gun.

“We need to accelerate the sewage and clean water infrastructure as well,” the Health Director said. “The disease spreads fastest in areas where those are lacking. We need more doctors and nurses sent to Manchuria, as many volunteers as we can get. Food as well, since many of the outbreaks are in rural areas and the farming is likely to be poorer than usual.” He met Alexander’s eyes. “I will lead the effort myself. We will need everything we have, but with luck and skill we can stop this before it reaches the Amur or the Yalu.” For a moment Alexander could see Christ, hammering nails into his own flesh for the sake of those who gladly turned their back on him for a mere thief.

“You will have whatever you need,” Alexander declared in his moment of weakness. “Name it, and it will be yours.”

*

Alexander enjoyed reading. There was little in life more relaxing than a pipe of tobacco, a mug of tea, and a good book. When the book was one he had been waiting on for three years, why, that only added to the satisfaction.

On the Origin of the Russian Peoples was a hefty tome. Written by Mykola Kostomarov, it was thicker than anything written by Marx or Lenin and used a combination of linguistics, archeology, and history to create a compelling (at least politically) case that the Rus, the origin point of the Russian people (or rather, their elites) were of a Slavic nature. The tome specifically focused on Rurik, the first Russian Prince of Novgorod. Kostomarov named Rurik as a warlord of the Vagr, a West Slavic tribe slowly being pushed out of their lands on the southern Baltic coast by Saxon incursions and Viking raids. Rurik, Kostomarov claimed, departed his homeland after being refused his inheritance by his elder brothers. Already known as a strong warrior, he was joined by hundreds of men who journeyed with him to seek riches in the greatest city of that age: Constantinople. There the Emperor, Michael III, hired them as guards. For two decades the Vargs–Varangians in the Byzantine tongue–fought for Michael III.

In the 850s the Eastern Slavic realms were in chaos. Years of misrule and infighting had resulted in famine, the destruction of towns and villages, the death of their menfolk, and a degradation of technology. Vikings were able to carry out raids with impunity, slaving and raping with abandon. So dire were the circumstances that a group of chieftains in the northern areas banded together. But even then they could not stand against the raiders. They sent a delegation to Constantinople, begging for the assistance of the greatest warrior of the era: Rurik. They offered to make him a new city, and to make him and his descendants Princes for all time.

Rurik and his Vargs journeyed north. Together with the few remaining soldiers of the Eastern Slavs they defeated the Vikings, forcing an end to their raiding and establishing the city of Novgorod. Rurik’s line would flourish in the centuries to come, founding Moscow, Vladimir, and Tver among others. Numerous houses would spring from the Rurikids loins including (through the maternal line) the current Imperial family.

Despite the size of the book, Alexander finished On the Origin of the Russian Peoples in an afternoon. The writing was not dense, intended as it was for a broad audience. Alexander knew that would draw criticism from certain circles (it always did) but he did not care. The more people who read this book, the better. He had but one change to make.

Taking hold of his pen, Alexander dipped it briefly into the ink. Turning to the first page of the manuscript he scratched out the title’s last letter.

*

“We are having some difficulty with the Irish.”

“Issues that the guards cannot solve?” Muravyov asked.

“Yes. The Catholics last night burned down a Protestant neighborhood in Busan. Two days ago a Catholic village near Gwangju was sacked.”

“Muravyov.”

“Yes, your Imperial Highness?”

“How many men do you need to establish martial law?”

“From Seoul to Busan?” Murvayov paused. “At a rough estimate, five infantry regiments and four cavalry regiments.”

Twenty-four thousand men. Nearly a fifth of their army. Still, the sooner they got a hold on the riots the better. Time would only allow them to grow. “See to it that the riots are ended. Any violators will be sent to Alaska or the Bering Sea islands.” Absalom Boston’s report indicated good whaling in the Sea, but that local salting and oil stations would be necessary, both of which required docks and the men to work them. A perfect task for those who thought to disrupt Alexander’s realm.

“Speaking of the East,” Arsenyev began, “what progress has Haass made?”

“The disease is receding," Pirogov said. The Director of the Irkutsk Central Hospital had taken over many of Haass’ duties as the Director of Health left to handle the cholera outbreak. “No new cases have been discovered in Harbin for the last week. Mukden’s rate of new cases has fallen from two thousand per week to five hundred per week over the last month. If, God willing, there are no new cases in the next three days, Dalian will have passed the one-month threshold and will be able to reopen as a port, though its walls will remain closed due to the continued presence of disease to the north.”

“Do we have an estimate on how soon it will be over?”

“Before January. If we are lucky, sometime in November. But we must not end the quarantines until the disease is fully eradicated and our teams have confirmed its absence. To do otherwise would risk the wellbeing of the entire Empire.”

“Of course,” Alexander agreed. Wasteful as it was to miss the annual harvest, it was not as if his people would starve for lack of food. They would miss the variety brought by Manchuria’s fields, they would send far less to the great cities of Europe and Asia, but his people would survive. “The death toll?”

“Twenty-six thousand that we can confirm. The number will likely rise to forty thousand as we reach and tally more rural areas over the next few months.” Pirogov looked at Alexander, not quite meeting his eyes. “Your Imperial Highness, if I may be so bold as to make an observation, I would suggest that this crisis has highlighted the necessity of systems for sewage and clean water not only in cities, but in the Mirs and mining towns as well. As it remains the first year, perhaps this could be included in the Five-Year Plan?”

“We have the capacity to make the pipes,” Hess said. “Technologically, that is.”

“Galvanized steel?” Anosov asked. Hess nodded. “He’s right,” Anosov told Alexander. “With Sellers’ new machines, we can make miles of pipes with minimal effort, then galvanize then in large batches. With us reaching the limits of how much track we need, and the limitations of exporting it to Alaska, it would give the steel mills something to do.”

Alexander nodded slowly. He had planned to begin laying more track in Western Siberia, but beyond the mines and Mirs there was little point to it. Most of the good spots were already on the rail lines, and merely needed new stations to allow for the trains to stop, unload, refuel, and load again. There was always the idea of building more track in the far north to help the reindeer herders, but that was mostly to deal with the yangban, regardless of what Hehn claimed. Back to the canals for them, I suppose. I wouldn’t trust them with this project, too intricate. “Draw up a proposal,” Alexander ordered. “By 1850, every settlement in Eastern Siberia will have sewage and clean water.