Глава 13

Shouting, and the sound of weapons clanging.

Go hide in the back, Sarkaz.

Percival, go and reassure the civilians that just joined us. They're scared enough as is.

I put a hand on the sword on my belt. It is always at the ready.

Hrrh— hrrh—

You really want me to kill you? You men are in no shape to fight.

Our warriors surround a group of bruised and dirty Victorian soldiers. Their sergeant is panting, with fresh wounds on his body.

Was this really an attack?

What's going on, Nine?

They sneaked into the village from the north. Romanich took a bolt. The doctor is taking care of him now.

They're out of their minds, trying to attack our camp with just twenty-one men, including a handful on stretchers.

Ha! Look at what we have in the heartland of our country, a stone's throw from our great capital!

A swarm of damned Reunion Infected! Come! Kill me if you dare! Or I'll kill you all!

Conspirators, agitators, rioters, murderers... a blight! You're a blight!

No wonder the war is going badly! Those barbaric devils could never beat us! The real enemy is among us, behind our backs!

Wherever there's disorder, you Infected are never far away!

Looks like you just came back from the front lines.

Low morale, poor organization, hastily wrapped wounds, obsolete equipment... you don't look like professional soldiers. Conscripts?

We're from the Duke of Fife's Fourth Battalion... what's the name of the company again? Blackstream Squad and Eastham Squad. Do you have a doctor here?

Shut up, soldier, and ready your weapon!

But Sergeant, Victor...

This is an order! Ready your weapon!

Keep your voice down, Victorian. There are civilians sleeping in the camp.

Victorian civilians.

Civilians? Victoria would have given them the life they deserve, if they didn't join you to become criminals and malcontents!

Why are all the scum in this land Infected?

Why is every gangster, bandit, devil, and Reunion traitor an Infected?

Why is the honorable Duke of Fife not Infected? Why was His Majesty Frederick III not Infected? Why are honest and upright folk not Infected?

Do people become despicable because they're Infected... or do they become Infected because they're despicable?

What about you?

Is despicability infectious too?

How dare you—

Enough!

The Victorian sergeant's eyes widen as he turns to one side, trying to hide his arm from my sight.

His lips tremble, but no words come out.

We're all despicable scum now!

...Aren't we, sir?

I...

I'm different... this is an honorable...

Your arm.

I can see the crystals protruding from it. Your condition is progressing rapidly.

I'm fighting and killing Sarkaz for my country! I just got a bit of dirt on it... maybe devil blood...

What did you learn in boot camp? Didn't they teach you anything about Active Originium Zones?

The instructor just told us to aim and pull the trigger... that's what we spent our two weeks on.

I take it you weren't issued any inhibitors, either.

Er... inhibitors?

Nine, I think they're all Infected.

I-It can't be! I just got a physical one week ago, and I was in perfect health!

One week... could be a rapid onset. Or they lied to you to keep you on the front lines.

Shut up!

How long have the ones on the stretchers been unconscious? They're in critical condition.

Wh-What?

Death and disintegration from acute condition is dangerous to both you and us.

You were right to have the unconscious lying face-up on the stretchers, to prevent suffocation.

But... did you check their backs?

Suddenly silent, the sergeant walks towards the stretcher, as though trying to turn the man lying on it over, but withdraws his hand as soon as it touches the soldier.

The sergeant looks helpless, like he's facing a deadly tuskbeast that could spit lightning and poison, one that could leap at him at any moment.

But the man is his comrade. Before they were comrades, they might have been cousins, tilling the same piece of land together.

I sigh and sit the unconscious Victorian soldier up.

There is no need to remove his jacket. Originium crystals have pierced the clothing on his back.

Heavens...

Victor! Damn it!

I shouldn't have taken him along... his dad would kill him, then kill me, if he learned that his son was Infected!

Those Sarkaz used witchcraft to infect us! I knew it! It's the devil's curse!

It's not enough that they defiled our land, now they want to defile our souls too!

That's enough.

Sarkaz are naturally susceptible to Infection, and their soldiers are overwhelmingly Infected. When you kill them, or when you get Infected and they kill you...

If there's no one to clean up the bodies...

I said no more. I heard a sound.

It's a familiar sound, whether in Rim Billiton, Rhodes Island, or here and now.

The sound that every Infected fears most.

The sound of us shattering.

I've heard... sounds... in the trenches...

You told me it was artillery, Sergeant!

It <i>was</i> artillery!

Our enemy will use anything and everything to destroy us and our country, including their own deaths!

Devils, bandits, Tarans... there was none of this crap during His Majesty Frederick III's reign!

We... we must expel this scum from Victoria... we...

We...

What can we do? Can we save Victor? We... we dwell in the blessing of glorious Victoria...

What an idiot.

I'll say this again. You're an Infected. Very Infected.

In case this isn't clear to you, like us, like everyone else here...

You're going to die.

The first time I saw an Infected shatter was in the middle of a lake.

I was seven, young and innocent. It was my dream to become captain of the Miner's Patrol.

I'd get to stay up late at night, wear a cool uniform, and walk around with a bright torch.

Most families in Rim Billiton made their living in mining, digging, and processing ore. We did everything to prevent Infection.

But accidents happen.

One day, the adults came home early.

Mother and the other women of the house whispered in a corner. The men smoked in silence, until the entire room was filled with that acrid scent.

In between coughs, I ran around the living room, pretending to be a surveyor looking for new veins in a fog-filled valley.

Dad grabbed me by the collar and put me to bed.

I woke up earlier than usual the next day. I think I was trying to grab a can of soda while nobody was watching.

Grandma was sitting in the living room next to her luggage, She said she was going on a journey.

I pestered her to let me go with her. She could never say no to me. She said I could come a short way with her, then I had to go back home.

We saw a salt lake in the distance. It was a shallow one that only appeared in the rainy season, but it rained a lot that year. We couldn't see the other side of the lake.

Grandma told me that was as far as I could go. I said alright. She made me promise, like when she made me promise I would be a good boy when I first went to school.

But I wasn't a good boy anymore. I quietly followed her, hiding behind a bush when she got to the lakeside.

Grandma got onto a boat with a few people on it. They all had strange stones growing out of their bodies, and one of them was wrapped up in a blanket. The boatman turned on the engine.