Surviving Arkadia

I only ever wanted to be a sailor. I was a sailor on Earth and I am a sailor here. Once I got over the culture shock I much preferred my life here. Arkadia is still in the great age of sail while also being in the great age of the ocean liner. For over a year now I have served on the Source Ship Idyllic, one of the ships of the Halcyon Line.

The SS Idyllic travels the counter clockwise route carrying passengers and cargo between the big cities on the northern coast of the continent, the Arktis Archipelago and the Brutish Isles. We sail the Nordenzee and the Kaltzee using the source winds and our Etheric sails. Our sister ship, the SS Fantastic sails the clockwise route serving the same cities.

My Captain and the ship’s Doctor knew that I was an Outlander but I hadn’t told anyone else on the crew. I think the rest of the crew knew that there was something unusual about me because why would I, an Able Seaman and not even an experienced one, occasionally consult with the Captain and the Doctor.

When the first passenger fell sick and could not be immediately healed, the Doctor asked for volunteers to sit with the sick child. I was one of the volunteers. I thought that my experience of childhood illness in a world where most things can’t be instantly cured would be useful. The boy had a very high fever and all we could do was to keep him cool.

Within days another child fell ill, then another, and another. I had never really thought about how many passengers brought their children with them but before we reached our next port there were thirty sick children.

There was no room for them all in our infirmary and so most of them stayed in their family cabins and were cared for by their families with some help from the entertainment crew. All meals for the ship became self service buffets as the stewards took on the task of helping the desperate parents.

Only the sickest children, and the one twelve-year-old boy who was travelling alone, remained in the infirmary. Volunteers from both the crew and the passengers worked to keep those children from burning up.

The next port on our normal route was Kahlin, on the northern coast of the continent. Our Signal Officer had sent messages ahead so there would be medical help waiting when we got there. Instead they refused us entry to the harbour. Passengers were allowed to leave the ship by small boat but only if they agreed to go into quarantine on shore.

Some of the passengers did agree to that, even people who had paid for passage to other ports. We were able to take on some supplies by boat but not nearly as much as usual so it was a good thing that so many passengers had left us and that no-one joined us at Kahlin.

The Signal Officer passed a note to the Harbour Master via one of the small boats requesting a message be sent to the Halcyon Line’s Head Office, asking where we should go next. The Harbour Master was soon back himself in the Pilot Boat with confidential instructions for us. We were to sail with all speed for the port of Ostia at the far North Eastern end of the Eastern branch of the Kaltzee.

I was surprised at the choice of Ostia and I know that many others on board felt the same. The Captain in particular had expected to be told to take the children up the Northern branch of the Kaltzee to one of the ports on the Gulf of Boynia. It was cold enough there that the problem of keeping the children cool would be solved. We could move the infirmary beds outside and move the other children to state rooms with windows that could be left open.

The unexpected orders made me uneasy but none of us were about to disobey them. We informed the passengers of the change of plan and a few more of them chose to take their chances with quarantine in Kahlin. We took one final delivery of supplies to see us through to Ostia and set off.

On the journey to Ostia some more of the children’s fevers broke. The boy who’d been travelling alone was one of the first. He chose to remain in the infirmary to help care for the others. He’d formed a bond with the other children. The Captain made him an honorary Steward.

By the time we reached the approach to Ostia some more of the children were up and about, though still weakened. Most were clearly on the mend. There were only three that the Doctor still worried about. Two girls and a boy. Their fevers were so fierce that they had to be washed down with ice water. They generated so much heat that the other sick children had to be moved away from them and the crew caring for them were wearing their summer uniforms.

I think it was before we reached Ostia that the Captain got the first of the complaints about strange noises on deck during the night. I know that it was the day we arrived that the first scratches appeared on the outside of the Infirmary wall because I was inspecting them with the Doctor when I was ordered to the bridge to report to the Captain.

We were on the approach to Ostia and had stopped to await the pilot boat. I could see it in the distance when I reached the bridge. I could also see a signal light on shore flashing a familiar pattern. Morse code.

The Captain took me to one side. She told me that the Signal Officer didn’t recognise the pattern of flashes and asked me if I did. I confirmed that I did and explained that it was a common code from my world and that it could be used to transmit complex messages.

She dismissed the rest of the bridge crew and told the Signal Officer to give me his lamp. He wasn’t happy about it. I warned the Captain that people were bound to gossip about us. People had already noticed that she seemed closer to me than would be expected at my rank.

She told me to shut up and signal.

I won’t put the entire Morse communication here but the signaller was warning us not to dock at Ostia unless everyone on board had recovered. I pushed for more details.

The signaller replied that the authorities in Ostia had been taking children with the Fever from their parents and putting them in a medical “camp” where they weren’t allowed visitors. After the first few weeks of this no child left alive. The few children who left told tales of the staff just abandoning the children and letting the Fever take them. The children who survived had already been on the road to recovery when they arrived and they had recovered enough to get up and walk out of the fever tent.

Parents started hiding their sick children. Rumours circulated that the children were a danger. That something was coming for them. That they needed to be kept away from population centres for everyone’s safety. Mobs started raiding the houses of people suspected of hosting children with the Fever.

The signals stopped abruptly. I feared for the safety of the signaller who was presumably a fellow Outlander.

I relayed everything to the Captain. Up until that point she’d been a mentor that I respected and admired but her reaction raised her in my estimation to simply the finest commander that I have ever, and most likely will ever, serve under.

She didn't’ waste time questioning me, or doubting my translation. She called the bridge crew back in and called the Quartermaster, the Doctor and the Chief Steward to the bridge.

She relayed the message to them. When questioned about the signal she said it was an obscure code used only by hobbyists that I’d learned as a child and was usually transmitted by sound rather than light. The explanation didn’t make a lot of sense but she didn’t give anyone time to question it further. She went straight to asking if we could completely bypass Ostia.

The answer to that was no. According to the Quartermaster we were low on everything. We needed either fewer people aboard, or a lot more supplies, or both. There were no near-by ports we’d be safe to resupply at. Everything at this end of the Kaltzee was part of the Ostian Empire.

The discussion immediately moved onto the question of how much to tell the passengers. The Captain felt that we had to tell the parents everything but was open to suggestions about what to say to the rest of the passengers.

They decided that it was best to keep the rest of the passengers in the dark. They also decided that we would have to dock at Ostia.

We greeted the Pilot as if nothing was wrong but the crew manufactured so many delays that it was late at night by the time we tied up in the harbour. The Captain persuaded the Pilot and the Harbour Master to join her in a few drinks so neither of them could tell the authorities that we had arrived. While she entertained them many of the crew went ashore to secure supplies for the ship. Some of those supplies may, technically, not have belonged to the Halcyon line but there was no-one around to tell us that we couldn’t take them.

In the morning we disembarked most of the passengers. The Doctor insisted that it would take time to make the children ready for travel. The families with children, even those children who had recovered, all chose to stay. A few other passengers who had been volunteering to help in the infirmary got wind of the plan and also chose to stay.

By this time it was the middle of the day and news of our arrival was out and circulating. A large group of people had gathered onshore and they were beginning to look like a mob.

On board we were still in the midst of taking on drinking water. The Quartermaster himself was overseeing the tanks, ready to tell us the moment we had enough to risk the journey to another port.

Then the uniforms arrived. I don’t know if they were military, police, or even medical but they had come for the children. Fortunately some of the departing passengers had been persuaded to be as awkward as possible while disembarking. We didn’t explain exactly why but they could see that we were worried about something and they knew that there was no reason for ALL the children to wait until everyone else had disembarked.

When some of the Uniforms did manage to get on board the Chief Steward met them and explained how difficult it was to prepare the children to be moved and how there was no way to take the stretchers down the gangplank while there were so many people milling about and blocking the way.

It was about that time that the fence on the edge of the harbour collapsed under the weight of the crowd leaning on it. I don’t think they pushed it over, I think there were just a lot of people pressing into it, trying to see through it.

The crowd surged forward, into the harbour, onto the dock, suddenly very much a mob.