Chapter 157: Now We Have to Disinfect More... [3]
I came home first.
Well, not really my home. Technically, it was Alfred’s house. But at this point, it may as well have been mine. Both landlords owed me a great debt and were still basking in my favor. One of them had even said he would repay the debt someday. For now, though, he could live comfortably thanks to me.
This... it must be worth more than most people’s annual income. But then again, I guess I’m being treated like a toy.
I looked at the microscope on the desk. Lord Damien had handed it over without complaint, so the manor probably never knew the price. Instead, Liston told me how much it actually cost on the way back.
According to him, this thing was truly expensive. Even Liston, who had become a legendary amputation surgeon and earned a fortune, said it was too pricey to buy on a whim.
A real luxury item.
At a glance, it looked fancy. Cutting glass like that was not easy, especially with precise magnification. Mounting it in an iron casing was no joke either.
But the real reason it cost so much was because people treated microscopes as useless toys. Until they gained practical value and demand increased, only nobles used them to pass the time. It was obvious the sellers were deliberately jacking up the price.
The real problem is, there are no slides...
Originally, I wanted to examine the bacteria on my hand right away. But when I actually tried it, it was not that simple. Looking at my hand under a microscope was one thing, but rubbing it on a cloth and focusing the lens was difficult. The cloth’s texture and the lack of a flat surface gave me a headache. Some things came into focus, while others did not. It was hard to even tell what I was looking at.
Who would believe me if I said, “There are germs here”?
Could I make a proper slide? ...Probably not.
That was out of the question. Cutting glass that thin was not possible right now. I would need to slice tissue or something, and even that was uncertain.
I think it’s doable eventually, but not today. Hmm... Oh, right. Rainwater. People used to look at rainwater through microscopes, didn’t they?
They say you should learn from history. So I gave up on slides for now and headed out. It was not because it was about to rain or anything. If it had been, I would have wondered whether God Himself was helping me. Not that it mattered.
The Thames...
The Thames flowed lazily through London. The name sounded elegant and refined, but when I actually arrived, the stench made it hard to stand still.
Saying it “smelled bad” did not even begin to cover it.
It reeked of sewage.
Centuries of overpopulation and neglect had turned it into a giant open sewer. They were not just dumping waste into it. They were letting it stew.
If you’re lucky, it’s just feces. Lucky, I said.
The real danger was not only human waste. Industrial sewage and chemical runoff were also flowing into the Thames untreated. And people still drank from this river.
Humans were shockingly resilient.
Or tragically stubborn.
This water could kill you, but somehow it did not kill everyone. I was not sure whether that made us strong or just too stupid to die.
“The Thames...?”
No wonder the coachman reacted that way when I told him our destination. His face twisted with confusion and disgust.
“Why the hell would you want to go there?”
If I were not the boss’s benefactor, he probably would have refused outright. And do not tell me that was a stretch. Nineteenth-century London was rough.
“It’s for the advancement of medicine.”
“The what now? Are you messing around again...?”
“It’s something I’m doing with Dr. Liston.”
“Ah.”
His attitude changed instantly.
Liston?
Dr. Liston?
“You mean... that Liston?”
The man who had been puffing up his chest just moments ago now deflated like a popped balloon. His hands folded neatly, and his posture suddenly became reverent.
Apparently, manners were not about respect.
They were about fear.
“I-I’ll take you. Right away.”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
The carriage rattled to life. Since Alfred’s mansion was in a fairly upscale area, the smell did not hit us immediately. Maybe the distance helped, or maybe all the people between us and the river were acting as human air filters. In any case, we were spared for the moment.
What’s the difference between this and telling people to drink smog away?
I shook my head as I looked out at the scenery.
As always, it was grim.
A chaotic mess.
Even “sloppy development” felt too generous. Factories were appearing beside homes, and some of them were practically industrial corpses.
Look at that mess.
Seriously... don’t use white phosphorus in matches. Haven’t I told them this already?
I sighed.
Fires were not even the worst part. The smoke was toxic.
I thought of The Little Match Girl by Andersen again. What she saw was not imagination. It was hallucination. Chronic exposure to phosphorus gas caused bones to dissolve.
Maybe I should prepare for that next...
London was not as bad, thanks to old man Blundell and Dr. Liston constantly raising hell. But in this era of unchecked capitalism, money was king. And since white phosphorus was cheap and matched consumers’ preference for quick ignition, factories continued churning it out. I had heard there was one just outside the city.
France invented them, I think. Northern Europe too. Andersen was Danish, after all.
“Cadet.”
What pulled me from my thoughts was the stench.
Not just foul.
Dangerous.
Can germs even survive in this...?
I had been confident earlier, but now that we had arrived, I was not so sure. It looked like a scene straight out of hell.
Black waves.
The kind of smell that seeped in no matter how tightly you pinched your nose.
“Ugh. Hurry up and finish your business already!”
Even the coachman, who had just been bowing and scraping, shouted in frustration. He had forgotten his fear of Liston.
“I don’t know how long this river will last... but this is definitely hell.”
“Sir! Don’t go any closer. You’ll die!”
I jumped down with the iron bucket I had brought from the manor. The driver panicked but did not follow. He only watched.
Which, to be fair, was understandable.
I would not go down there either.
Ugh...
Up close, the Thames was revolting.
Apparently, it had not always been like this. Back in the Middle Ages, the water was cleaner. Even just twenty years ago, salmon still swam here by the tens of millions.
They say the salmon are all gone now, right?
You would think such a dramatic change would cause alarm.
But no.
People just let it worsen.
“Urgh...”
I scooped up the water and ran back. There were people around, but they looked too sick and lethargic to approach me.
“You gonna drink that?” the coachman asked.
“No. Are you insane?”
“Then why...?”
“Let’s just go. I’ll collapse if we stay any longer.”
The coachman nodded and took off instantly.
“Here—careful!”
I nearly spilled the water. Both he and I sighed in relief.
Honestly, peeing in a bucket would have been cleaner than this. The Thames was not merely sewage. It was something worse. I remembered reading that entire species of fish, including fish that could survive in the filthiest water, had gone extinct in this river during the nineteenth century.
We rode back slowly. But between the rattling carriage and the stink wafting from the bucket, I nearly became motion sick.
“Where were you...? Ugh.”
“What are you carrying...? God, it stinks.”
When I got home, Alfred and Joseph tried to greet me, then backed away. I had not noticed it before, but I reeked.
Whatever.
This was all for the advancement of medicine. If I did not keep that in mind, I would not survive this century.
I hurried to my room, scooped some Thames water into a dish, and set it under the microscope.
I’d better clean this thoroughly before giving it back to Lord Damien...
Even if he only threw it into a storage closet, I doubted he would appreciate the stench.
Whew.
I took a deep breath and looked through the lens.
Normally, you had to search around to find something under a microscope.
But this time?
“...Whoa.”
I did not talk to myself much, but I could not help it.
Germs.
So many kinds.
The one I recognized right away was E. coli. Why was it called E. coli? Because it lived in the colon. There were so many that it was basically like scooping up feces and looking at it.
“...And then some.”
I did not recognize the rest. But I did not need to.
I knew they were dangerous.
Okay... don’t panic.
It was too early to start warning people about bacteria. First, I had to get them to disinfect.
“Hey! Everyone, come look at this!”
“Huh? No.”
“It stinks...”
“Just look already!”
“Ugh, fine. What is it?”
I nearly said it was bacteria, but stopped myself.
Instead, I said, “I think... this could be Miasma.”
“Miasma? Seriously? I mean, it stinks, but if the Thames had this much Miasma, half the city would be dead already.”
They are. We just don’t realize it yet.
I clutched my pounding chest and prepared to explain calmly.
I can do this.
After all, I’m a certified master... of bluffing.