The Worst Cold Snap
In the middle of Baku, where black jelly coated everything in sight.
Squelch, squelch.
"Wow. Why is this stuff so stubborn to wipe off?"
"I'm losing my mind here…."
"No food until it's all cleared away!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
Less complaining, more scrubbing — the sooner you rub, the sooner it's gone. Sniff, sniff. What is this oil smell?
"Oh! Hey, this works great if you wipe it down with the distilled stuff!"
"Ohhhh!!!"
They burst into cheers and started wiping everything down with the precious oil they'd just finished distilling. The stuff spilled on the ground they gathered up by smashing and scraping. Then came a series of dull thuds.
Thump, thump, thump.
"Uh-oh. What do we do about this? It's completely clogged."
"Hah… I guess we'll have to take it apart and clean it?"
"It's not like it cost much to make — replacing it would honestly be easier…."
It was only an experimental rig, not one of the big distillation towers, so the pipes were only about as thick as a thigh. Still, cleaning them out to keep using them was going to be a nightmare. Unless the thing were built big enough for a person to crawl inside, forget it.
"Damn it…. Do we have to build another one?"
"Let's pool the list of problems and think it over."
"Yeah…."
The kids looked utterly deflated. They'd spent three years agonizing over this design, and now it had all gone up in smoke. The insides of the still would surely be a wreck too. It stung to think about, but building fresh would hurt less than salvaging.
"Well, at least we confirmed the stuff actually comes out, right? Look at this — the further along it gets, the darker it turns!"
"Nom. Blegh, ptui! What is this, why's it so bitter?"
"Mmm. Really? This batch is kind of sweet?"
Th-these lunatics…. Why on earth are they taste-testing it?
"Everyone, drink some Holy Water right now!"
"Oh, right!"
Gulp, gulp.
Unbelievable. Genuinely speechless. A bunch of oil-drinkers, the lot of them. Well, they dabbed it with their fingers, so technically not drinking…. If it weren't for the World Tree and the Holy Water, half the current population wouldn't even exist. Still, we really need that railway finished before serious manufacturing can start. Should I send the kids to the construction site first?
Clang, clang.
"Bring more rails over here!"
"Ugh, I can't keep up hauling materials! Busy, busy!"
Railway construction was in full swing across the whole of Qajar. The crowds of workers gathered there were a remarkably varied bunch: nomads who had crossed over from Mongol from the very start, people from Northern and Central Europe, displaced migrants from the Middle East, and even Russians who'd remained on the land after the war of conquest. Their faces were all different, but every one of them spoke the Daehan language with practiced ease.
"Lay the rails fast and we'll get the station built — and then we rest like human beings!"
"I know, I know! Ugh! I swear, I never want to eat another meal off bare dirt again."
Different faces or not, they looked genuinely close with one another — integration was going smoothly. In truth, when they'd first been merged in, the Russians had worried plenty. The treatment of a conquered people could be merciless to the point of cruelty.
"Ha ha. Who'd have thought we'd end up living this well?"
"What was that?! Quit yapping and fetch the stakes!"
"Right! Coming! Go, go!"
Contrary to the Russians' fears, while Qajar was no Daehan, it fed its workers well and paid out wages proportionate to the work done — life had grown far better than before. They were, after all, imitating the model they'd observed in Daehan. Which made winning over people's hearts all but inevitable.
Peeeeeeeeeet!
"Damn it! The train beat us here!"
"Khhagh! Looks like it's dust and dirt for supper again today!"
The stretch of rail they were laying ran along the western Caspian coast, where the wind blew with terrifying force. Even pitched tents would hold for a little while, then a single fierce gust would send everything flying — so they'd given up and rested and ate on open ground. Building actual houses was pointless too: everyone clocked out by train every evening, and the rails advanced too quickly for anything permanent to matter.
KWA-BOOM.
"Hold on! Food's here!"
An explosion sounded from a short distance away. Digging everything out shovel by shovel would take forever, so blasting the ground with explosives, then clearing and tamping it down, was simply how the work got done.
"I hear the folks who came over this way are moving on to canal work next — talk about hitting the labor jackpot! Phew."
"What! That's a good thing!"
"It is! Ha ha ha!"
The people genuinely loved their work. Their grandfathers had lived as serfs in their youth — taxed to the bone, surviving on stripped tree bark. Just hearing those stories raised gooseflesh. They never wanted to live that way again. And if you listened to the tales of those who occasionally slipped in secretly over the walls, the world beyond that barrier was hell itself. Apparently people eating people had become an everyday occurrence.
"So. How goes the rail work?"
"The Baku line is nearly complete. We're prioritizing the southeastern route now."
"That's the important one."
Beyond the southern desert lay Persia, champing at the bit for any chance to cross over. Hence the railway: develop the region with the trains, and keep the Persians in check at the same time.
"And honestly, that concrete of yours lets us move at an incredible pace."
"Truly remarkable stuff. How are the factories coming along?"
Since the material would be consumed in enormous quantities going forward, they were out scouting resources to build factories in Qajar itself rather than hauling everything in from Daehan. With fuel and raw materials on hand, production was simple.
"We're still spending time locating the raw material deposits."
"Push them to hurry. The stuff looks ideal for building houses and fortresses."
"Yes, sir."
The request for this railway was part of an ambitious plan to develop the country in earnest. Accepting handouts from Daehan was one path, but if they built things with their own hands, everything would grow better still. Daehan encouraged this drive toward self-reliance as well — after all, they could earn plenty just manufacturing and selling high-value goods alone.
"Also, have the Mudo scholars commissioned on steelmaking."
"Understood. We've posted a generous prize."
"At the very least, hammer-forging has to go."
"Yes, sir!"
Until now they'd simply imported their iron from Daehan and done a bit of forging, but they had come to understand the importance of the steel industry. Laying the railway had made it painfully clear, too — the sheer volume of steel Daehan poured out was enough to leave them numb. They'd developed the ambition to chase at least the dust of that standard, if not match it.
"I want to show that we can do it too."
"We'll give it our utmost."
Did Haneul know how they felt — hearts yearning to rise from servants to companions? It was an era when all the world's people were striving to live, each in their own way.
"Achoo—!"
"Hm? Catching a cold?"
"Me? Never? I don't get sick?"
The kids had gotten bored watching the new distillation tower go up and come down to the shore to play in the water. The water was colder than expected, though….
"Who's been badmouthing me?"
"Not me, surely?"
"Did it strike a nerve?"
"Don't say strange things — come on out and put some clothes on already."
Why? Clothes are awkward to wear in the water, that's why I took them off on purpose. When I invited her to join me, she mumbled something about people watching, about being embarrassed.
Slap, slap, slap.
"Hee hee hee~ Hmm hmm, hee hee~"
"You've had plenty of fun, haven't you? Aren't you coming out?"
"I could play all day!"
Someday I plan to dive into that trench they say is the deepest on Earth. Some ancient creature has to be living down there.
"It's embarrassing! What if someone sees?"
"Why? It's not like I have anything worth being embarrassed about?"
"Well, that's true…."
Nothing to find fault with, right? Gah! Now that I think about it, I should thank the gods. If I'd been immortal with an ugly body, life truly would have been a slog. Or no — maybe it'd have been easier instead, never running into any perverts? Hm…. Though I probably would have been branded a witch and driven from village to village.
"Ahh, cold…."
"Hm? Right? I'm not the only one who thinks it's cold?"
"No. We've been here for years now — it really does feel like it's been getting colder and colder."
We're still in the thick of the Little Ice Age, but was there more coming? I thought the last big freeze had been the coldest it would get, but something about this year felt off….
Splash — thwack.
"No! My lady! What do you think you're doing, wading out without a stitch on?!"
"Huh?"
"You're far too comfortable prancing around in the nude! My goodness, my goodness — shameless!"
How exactly am I supposed to put clothes on while standing in the water, you old bat?
"Underwear first, and quickly!"
"Fine…."
Honestly. What a spectacle. Heh heh….
"First things first — have extra food stockpiled at every concession zone."
"Why?"
"Something feels wrong. It's too cold. This place isn't supposed to get this cold."
People were going to freeze to death, or starve. And in great numbers. Truly fascinating! Wait — could this be some kind of divine punishment? Things settle down for a bit, then a war flips the whole board, right? If I were God, I'd have drowned the lot of them ages ago. Something like Noah's ark.
"It feels like food will be desperately short for years to come, so let's at least look after the people around the concession zones."
"Ah! Yes, ma'am. There's no harm in preparing."
Right — if the surplus goes to waste otherwise, that's even better. Let's go with that.
Whiiiiiiine—
There was no question about it now — something strange was happening to the weather. The water had frozen solid. Here, right beside the sea, in a place where temperatures were never supposed to drop below zero….
"Lady Haneul, the newsletter has arrived."
"Mm."
Just as I thought…. Temperatures had plunged so far that there were places seeing snow in early summer. Whether it was a one-off or something sustained, I couldn't tell, but another great calamity was coming. The harvest would fail this year, and things would only begin from next year onward.
"Everywhere outside the Tree's range is going to lose its crops. Prepare at home first, then distribute whatever's left abroad."
"Yes, ma'am."
We already produced vast quantities of food within the Tree's reach, but our transport capacity fell short — there was no way to carry it to the whole world…. And the record-breaking cold snap stretched on into the following year. Crops failed, and people froze and starved in staggering numbers. The Europeans must still have some sense in their heads, because they came to buy food — but whatever they managed to scrape together on their own wouldn't come close to enough.
"Qajar is having a rough time too."
"Why?"
"They say enormous numbers of refugees have fled to the Russian border regions."
"Excellent news! Perfect timing — we can take them in and grow the population. Qajar's easy for us to ship food to."
Those Europeans had better snap out of it and just build some ports and start begging properly. I'm not asking for much. Hand over the gold, live in peace — that's all it takes. And they can't even manage that.
KUUU-BOOOOM.
"Hah…."
"Kyaaah!"
"What on earth are they blowing up and devouring this time…."
They kept calling it some marvelous new technology, and the number of explosions kept climbing. Whiiiine — THUD.
"Eek!"
"Oh my?"
Something had flown all the way over here and landed…. I'd thought the first version was decent, but apparently the kids weren't satisfied. Too small-batch, too fiddly, they said.
"I should go hide somewhere…."
"To the quarters, my lady! The concrete roof will protect us."
Yes. True. After building concrete houses and weathering a few earthquakes, they'd started reinforcing them with steel wire inside, and the homes were magnificent. If anything, the builders never skimped on materials, so the structures were absurdly sturdy.
And so we made it back to the house —
"Whoa…."
"Oh no…."
A pipe was jutting straight through the ceiling….
Well, I'd be fine — a direct hit might knock me out for a moment at most, but Mose and everyone else would be dead. Were the kids hurt?
I suppose I'd better go check. Good grief….