The Steam Age: Gears and Bones

Chapter 14 Port of Saint Petersburg

The cruiser weighed anchor again and left Stocana harbor.

Perfitt stood on the bridge, watching the bow cleave through the grey-blue sea and sail deeper into the northern sea lanes.

Now, the core members of the expedition team have added another name, along with the twelve knights he brought.

That evening, she convened a general meeting in the officers' mess.

Lieutenant General Cherzov brought with him his last ten veterans of the Rus' Guard.

Ludwig von Oberstan sat opposite him, with two Romulus knights in dark gray armor standing behind him.

At the other end of the long table were Sabel and the flag captain of the Knights of Sword and Rose.

Perfit sat in the middle of the long table, with the map, which had been folded many times, spread out in front of him.

"We have about two more days from now," she said, tracing the dotted line representing the route on the map from beginning to end with her finger. "Two days later, we will enter Ross's territorial waters."

According to intelligence provided by Lieutenant General Chertsov, the port of St. Petersburg is now completely abandoned, but there may still be a Russian military cordon around the port.

If we're lucky, we might find a usable pier and dock directly. If we're unlucky—"

"If we're unlucky, we'll force a landing," Ludwig said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing tomorrow's weather.

Pofico nodded, then looked at Chernzov.

The old General Ross had been silent since the beginning of the meeting, unconsciously stroking the worn-out military flag in his hand.

"Your Excellency Lieutenant General, what is the fastest route from St. Petros port directly north to the Pledelshchensk district?"

Chertzov looked up, pressed his finger on the location of the port on the map, and then drew a winding line northward, passing through several densely marked urban areas, finally stopping at the edge of the Pledelshchensk district.

"If we take the main road, it would normally take half a day to get there. But things are probably not normal there now. From St. Petros Port to the Predelshinsk District, we have to pass through at least three districts, and each of them may have infected people. We need to be prepared to fight at any time."

Ludwig glanced at him, then turned to Perfit: "Miss Brandlis, you understand the transmission mechanisms of wilt disease better than any of us. Once we reach the infected area, besides the protective protocols you've established, what else do we need to know?"

Perfit pulled a sheet of paper from the file folder and pushed it to the center of the table.

It was a handwritten list outlining a few concise rules.

All personnel must wear respirators and double gloves at all times, and no one may come into direct contact with the blood or saliva of an infected person without sterilization.

If bitten or scratched, you must report to Saber within 30 minutes for initial treatment with a dual intervention therapy.

No one may leave the group or act alone without the permission of Perfit or Saber.

If anyone exhibits symptoms such as pale skin or auditory hallucinations, it must be reported immediately and must not be concealed.

Ludwig picked up the list and read it from beginning to end.

"I have no more questions," he said. "From now on, my knight and I will abide by these rules."

The following evening, Perfit stood alone at the stern of the ship, watching the increasingly dense ice floes on the distant sea.

Temperatures along the northern route drop sharply after entering Russian territorial waters.

She pulled her coat tighter around herself, opened her notebook, and on the last blank page, relisted the priorities the expedition team needed to complete after landing.

Locate the hospital ruins in the Predelshinsk district. Collect samples from different stages of infection.

To confirm whether there are still survivors active at the old town outpost mentioned by Chertsov.

To find the original lesions in the first batch of infected individuals.

She had just closed her notebook when she heard footsteps behind her.

It's Cherzov.

"Lieutenant General." She turned around.

Chertzov walked over to her, put his hands on the railing of the ship, and looked at the coastline that was getting closer and closer.

"There's something I haven't told you," he said in a low voice, as if speaking to himself, "My wife's grave is just outside St. Petersburg. She died last winter from common pneumonia, nothing to do with wilt disease."

I buried her there before I left, because that was the last thing I could do for her.

I don't know if I'll have the chance to visit her grave this time I come back.

Perfitter was silent for a few seconds.

"Lieutenant General, why did you come back with us?"

Chertzov looked up at the coastline that was gradually emerging on the distant sea.

"Because no matter what that land becomes, it is still my country," he said. "If there are any living people there waiting for someone to rescue them, I cannot let them only receive living dead people."

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The cruiser anchored off the coast of St. Petersburg shortly after dawn.

Perfit stood on the bridge, binoculars pressed against her right eye, a position she had maintained for several minutes. Behind her stood Chernsov, Shabel, and Ludwig. No one spoke.

It wasn't because of discipline, but because the city in front of them made everyone unsure of how to begin.

St. Petersburg was the largest port in the Rus' Empire. Chertzov had described it to Perficot during his voyage: the main port area had eleven deep-water berths, with at least a hundred merchant ships coming and going every day, and the steam cranes on the docks never stopped from morning till night.

Behind the port lies the old town, its cobblestone streets crammed with wholesalers' warehouses, sailors' taverns, and customs houses; further north lies the Pledelshchensk district. He spoke of this in a flat tone, as if reading from an outdated nautical logbook.

Perfit didn't press the matter, because she could tell that the old general wasn't reminiscing about a city, but rather mourning a grave.

And now, that grave is right in front of her.

In the telescope's circular field of view, half of the crane on the dock was broken, and the rest leaned precariously in the morning mist, like the remains of some enormous creature.

The exterior walls of the buildings on the dock were covered with soot, several buildings had collapsed, and broken bricks and charred timbers were piled up on the street, covered with a thin layer of snow.

Several abandoned merchant ships lay half-submerged in the berth, their masts broken, their hulls capsized, and indistinguishable debris floating on the water.

Further into the city, the outlines of several taller buildings could still be barely discerned, but the windows were all black, and most of the bricks and stones on the exterior walls had peeled off, revealing the charred wooden frames inside.

The entire city was deathly silent.

There was no smoke from chimneys. No lights. None of the sounds a port city should have. Not even seagulls.

Perfitt recalled Chertsov saying that flocks of seagulls gathered year-round at the docks of St. Petersburg, fed by the fish entrails discarded by sailors, making them fatter than the seagulls of Langdon Harbor.

Now, all the seagulls are gone. Only the mournful sound of the cold wind blowing through the ruins can be heard, like something breathing slowly in the distance.