Chapter 36
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Translator: volt
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Apostle
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Hmm... What was it I promised Raleigh again?
Vitamin pills and a clock, for starters.
These are tools for navigation.
Vitamin pills are essential. Sailors in this era die en masse from mysterious diseases, and it won't be known for centuries that scurvy is caused by a lack of vitamin C.
The clock and sextant are the same story.
John Harrison won't invent a clock accurate enough at sea until the 18th century. Until then, there simply aren't any that work reliably on ships without errors...
But with this wristwatch alone, everything changes. Knowing the time at sea lets you determine longitude, and longitude lets you know your position.
It's a privilege no sailor of this era enjoys. That's why Sir Raleigh's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
And maps made with 21st-century tech? No need to even mention those.
But the hazmat suits, masks, sulfastreptomycin, and Lysol serve a slightly different purpose.
These are things I've been stocking up on for a while now.
Ever since I first discovered Eleanor and the thirty-odd Roanoke colonists.
That's when I started seriously reading through the game catalog.
I didn't have any particular plans—just figured they'd come in handy someday.
Hazmat suits and masks are must-haves for dangerous areas, so no need to explain why I'd stockpile them.
Sulfastreptomycin can save the life of a bubonic plague patient if injected within 48 hours of onset.
The old man at the direct sales stand mixed it with gibberellin and pushed it on me as medical-grade stuff (still not sure if it's legal). It's perfectly usable on humans. Vines usually get bromamycin, so no idea why he gave me this.
Lysol... it's for cleaning. Bonus: it kills the rodents carrying the plague.
-'In 1592, a massive plague outbreak in London and surrounding areas kills over 15,000 people—more than 10% of the city's population. The damage is concentrated in unsanitary slums...'
Seeing that in the history books made me think stockpiling was the right call. And now it's paying off.
Lucky. I was already hesitant to send Walter Raleigh off to London like he was marching to his death, but since he's volunteering...
"Sir Raleigh? You're really going to London?"
"...Y-yeah, I'm going. If I'm scared of the plague and don't go, how much longer do we delay? Two years? Three? I can't stay away from England that long."
With him talking like that, it's easy to hand him the job.
"Alright... Do you know how to use the masks?"
"Pardon? You just put them on your face, right? Of course I..."
Flutter.
"...Is that a mask?"
"Wear it once, then boil or discard it. Make sure front and back are correct. Tell the crew the same."
"Uh... Right...
"Next, the hazmat suits. They might look ridiculous, so use them when dealing directly with plague patients."
"Pardon? Would we ever need to get that close to plague victims?"
"Yes."
"..."
"..."
Raleigh's face showed a flicker of surprise, then relaxed.
I demonstrated putting on and taking off the suit in front of him, explaining the precautions. Then...
"You can't master syringe use in one go."
"S-syringe? You mean that thing Miss Lawrence used?"
"Yes."
"..."
"It's for patients."
"..."
"..."
The amusement on Raleigh's face hardened slightly.
He got it.
And I got that he got it.
Yeah. While you're at it, handle London's plague too.
Save the dying, earn the Queen's favor—sounds like a good deal, right?
...Assuming you survive the ordeal.
With nearly 10,000 witnesses now, hiding my identity is pointless anyway, and I have no qualms influencing England...
I won't force it, of course.
"N-no, surely not..."
As Walter Raleigh stammered, I turned and spoke.
"First, I need to check with Miss Lawrence. See if she'll come along."
"Ah... Yes. Of course."
Raleigh's expression grew increasingly strange, but I didn't mind. He volunteered, after all.
I praised his courage to march into plague-infested London—swarming with germ-laden rats—and moved on.
Soon, leading Raleigh to the 'hospital,' I found Eleanor volunteering, treating patients alongside her. More like an elementary school nurse's office than a hospital, but for this era, it's top-tier.
"Try stretching your arm out... Tell me if it hurts."
"Aaah... Aaaak! It hurts! It hurts!"
"Oh dear. That must hurt a lot."
...What? I never taught her that tone. Do doctors all converge on the same speech patterns?
I waited until they sent off the last patient, then opened the door as the place emptied.
Bang.
The two, sorting medicines and bandages, turned and greeted me. I sat them back down, seated Sir Raleigh beside, and said,
"Sir Raleigh is going to London."
"...Pardon?"
"The plague will ravage London. The people there need you, Miss Lawrence."
"..."
"..."
...She's hesitating?
Can't have that. I need Margaret.
I pleaded more earnestly.
"In this plan, you're the cornerstone if Sir Raleigh is the foundation stone, Miss Lawrence. We need your dedication."
Raleigh flinched at my words, and Margaret...
Margaret hesitated a moment, then nodded with a slightly dazed look.
"...I'll go."
"Good. Then..."
As I rose, someone grabbed my sleeve. Looking down, Eleanor gazed up urgently.
"W-wait a moment!"
"What's wrong, Eleanor?"
"C-can I come too?"
"Hm? Eleanor, are you sure...?"
"I'm not as good as Margaret, but I can give injections, and I've memorized most of these meds. I think I'd be fine."
"..."
"..."
I turned to Raleigh.
His expression had sharpened somehow.
"Sir Raleigh? Is that alright?"
"...Hm."
Raleigh pondered, then spoke.
"Eleanor? You heard Nemo's words too, right?"
"...Yes."
Raleigh exchanged glances with Eleanor, glanced at me, and said,
"She wants to go. How can I stop her?"
"..."
The atmosphere felt... odd.
Hmm... The plan was to save London's citizens while sending Raleigh off. If he objects...
Come to think of it, the catalog described Raleigh as...
-'The most boring man in Elizabeth's court.'
...That's exactly what it said. So I asked the most boring man,
Cautiously,
"...Sir Raleigh?"
"Yes."
"Is something wrong?"
Sir Raleigh replied in a trembling voice.
"What could be... wrong?"
Sir Walter Raleigh is a devout Protestant.
You might question how a man living as the Queen's lover can be devout, but everyone has their hypocritical side.
In his youth, he joined the French Wars of Religion to aid Huguenots fighting Catholics. Even now, he attends church gatherings with zeal.
He's obnoxiously lucky, arrogant, debauched, and greedy—hard to find a commandment he hasn't broken. Still, he believes himself a servant of the Lord.
And then.
-"...Pardon?"
-"It's early May now, so you'll arrive in London right around August when the plague starts. Take care."
That caught him off guard.
And also.
-"Oh, and I have some things for you. Take these vitamin pills. Give one to each crewman every few days to prevent scurvy."
-"...Scurvy? With just these pills?"
-"This clock is fixed to Croatoan time. Use it at sea for time, thus longitude. With the map, positioning should be no issue."
A storm of astonishing words.
Amid this divine authority, Raleigh regained his senses and examined the items.
Vitamin... pills? Aren't these the mysterious meds Nemo gives Croatoans every few days? They prevent scurvy?
And this clock— so small, yet ticking so precisely. A miracle from the Lord on his wrist!
Plus a map? The one Nemo briefly showed before... no empty spaces. A map of the entire world.
And he received mighty medicine to cure the plague, clothes and masks to ward it off.
He is chosen.
Chosen for this colony's prosperity and glory, to build the Lord's kingdom in America.
Moved, he nodded and followed Nemo.
And then.
He commanded him to go to the sick.
With doctor Margaret and assistant Eleanor.
What it all meant...
Well...
-"In this plan, you're the cornerstone if Sir Raleigh is the foundation stone, Miss Lawrence. We need your dedication."
Clear as day.
When all was said.
Raleigh looked up at Nemo. He gazed down with his usual serene face.
As if commanding the most natural thing.
So... he had no choice but to answer. He would.
But now everything was clear.
"...This isn't just about building the Clipper ship."
"That's part of it. Rescuing new settlers too."
"But not all. No... not even secondary."
"..."
Nemo nodded without reply. As Raleigh's eyes pleaded for confirmation, he finally spoke.
"Yes. Correct."
"...Then, one question?"
"Yes."
"Why do this?"
"..."
"I must know, O Lord.
Did you not just command us to save plague victims? Without asking if we'd go to such peril?"
"..."
"Send us into the jaws of death, to treat plague patients, cleanse the most dangerous slums?"
As Raleigh asked, Nemo shook his head calmly. No disappointment on his face—rather, regret for not going himself.
"If you don't want to, that's fine."
"...Pardon?"
"If you don't wish to go, I won't force you. I don't want to send anyone unwilling into danger..."
So Raleigh answered before he finished.
"I want to."
"...Pardon?"
"I want to. I desire it. Earnestly."
Some call him a selfish bastard.
Spot on.
Others say he's the Queen's bed toy, frolicking wantonly.
Precisely him.
Sold his soul for power and wealth? Yes. Lust above all? True.
Yet.
"I... I will go, my Lord..."
As said, Raleigh is a devout Protestant.
When an angel commands.
Go.
Save the people.
For it is the Father's will.
So Raleigh answered.
I shall.
Even unto a thousand deaths.
He was an apostle. Not as great or holy as those in Scripture, still debauched and luxurious—but an apostle nonetheless.
And his master and teacher sends him into the mire of death.
He shall be greatly used.
Now eternal glory and power await.
"...I shall go to London."
To fulfill your will.
Raleigh obeyed.
Eleanor Dare tells her father John White, who tells Thomas Huet, to be written in the Gospel.
In the 1592nd year since the Lord came to this land.
On the 3rd of May.