Confusion. Anxiety. Disorder.
The atmosphere in Parliament looked similar to usual—and yet different.
"So then why don't we simply quarantine the entire district? According to Professor John Snow, the origin of the cholera outbreak is likely Soho Street, isn't it? Then just seal it off!"
"If all the patients had come from there, quarantine might be worth considering. But that's not the case, is it? Patients are appearing elsewhere as well. If we shut down the district and cholera doesn't stop, will the opposition take responsibility?"
"No… haah. Still, we must at least show that we're doing something. If Parliament and the government appear to be doing nothing, public panic will explode. Prime Minister! Do you have any countermeasures?"
"I was planning to discuss that matter today, actually."
Even though the ruling and opposition parties usually tore at each other with endless political attacks, they were not so degenerate as to continue bickering during a crisis like an epidemic.
That did not mean they stopped arguing entirely.
But at least everyone was genuinely trying to discuss the problem and find a solution.
Yes, this was how Parliament was supposed to function.
"I heard that His Highness wished to speak before Parliament today. Is it related to the cholera situation?"
"That is correct. It would be faster if the person involved explained directly rather than me doing so. Your Highness, please proceed."
When Charles Wellesley gestured toward me, the attention of every member of Parliament immediately focused in my direction.
After nodding once, I stepped to the center and got straight to the point without any unnecessary preamble.
"Since the cholera situation is urgent, I will dispense with pleasantries. I ask that Parliament immediately pass a special act appointing me as the chief authority responsible for cholera containment."
"…What?"
"I will briefly explain."
"W-Wait just a moment, Your Highness! We've heard that you are directing medical staff to investigate cholera separately. Have you made progress?"
The chamber erupted in shock.
From their perspective, it must have sounded like nonsense.
Some members even cleaned their ears as if they thought they had misheard.
But they had heard correctly.
"I was about to explain that part, so this is convenient. Professor John Snow is currently conducting a large-scale investigation across London, using detectives from a detective agency to examine both the streets and hospital patients. We are already close to identifying both the origin and cause of cholera."
"Is that truly so?"
"If I could not take responsibility for that claim, I would not be standing here. Now that we have essentially identified the cause, scattering administrative resources everywhere would only waste national effort. Therefore, from this moment forward, I will direct the health committee and government authorities to contain cholera."
"You've identified the source of the outbreak? Was it indeed Soho? If so, do you plan to seal off that district and surrounding areas—"
Before the development of modern medicine, the most effective and common method of controlling epidemics had always been quarantine.
But that was a solution suited to medieval towns.
Locking down a massive metropolis like London would create enormous damage.
"No. There is a far more effective method than quarantine. Once the data is fully organized, we will present it in a way that everyone can easily understand. For now, I will provide a full explanation later before the health committee's medical staff."
"Still, we must know at least the basic information if we are to pass a special law."
"That is a fair point. When I say the detailed data will be handled by professionals, I do not mean that there will be no explanation at all. What we know so far is that cholera does not spread through foul odors. The most likely source is food. And for something that spreads this rapidly, the most probable medium is water—something consumed by everyone."
"…Water?"
"Water spreads cholera? Your Highness… if that were true, then—well, that simply makes no sense!"
Despite the fact that the claim came from me, skepticism filled the chamber.
Today it seems obvious that cholera spreads through contaminated water.
But to people of the nineteenth century, that idea was almost as shocking as saying the Earth revolves around the Sun.
I could explain everything step by step.
But that would take too long.
In a situation like this, it was better to simply show the results.
"Whether it makes sense or not, you will see soon enough. Within two days at the latest, Professor John Snow will gather the entire health committee for a detailed briefing. I ask that all members of Parliament attend."
"Your Highness! If you take command of the response, how quickly do you believe this crisis can be resolved?"
"At the very least, we will achieve meaningful results within fifteen days."
Originally I had intended to say one week.
But since anything could happen, I doubled the time to be safe.
Even so, for a nineteenth-century society terrified of cholera, fifteen days sounded almost unbelievable.
"Your Highness… I admire your confidence, but fifteen days sounds rather unrealistic."
"On the contrary. If we fail to settle the matter within fifteen days, the number of patients will spiral beyond control. And have you ever known me to make claims I could not take responsibility for?"
"…No."
"If something goes wrong, I will accept all responsibility. Additionally, beyond the existing budget allocated to the authorities, I intend to provide further funding myself. I would appreciate it if that could be reflected in the legislation."
"Your Highness! However, the entire budget for this year has already been allocated. To obtain additional funds we would have to follow formal procedures—"
These people really are frustrating.
When had I ever needed Parliament's permission to spend my own money?
I looked at Lord Palmerston with mild disbelief.
"When did I ask Parliament for money?"
"…Pardon?"
"I said I would provide additional expenditures personally if necessary. Surely there are no objections to that."
If the government allocated funds, it would take time.
And afterwards they would inevitably try to claim credit.
The very same people who had offered no solution would attempt to insert themselves into the success.
Meanwhile people were dying of cholera at that very moment.
There was no time for bureaucratic delays.
"This is urgent. I would appreciate it if we could proceed to a vote immediately."
Who would oppose the proposal?
I was offering to clean up London's filth with my own money.
With the condition that I would bear all responsibility if it failed, Parliament finally accepted my proposal.
And if I took all the blame for failure—
Then naturally I would take all the credit for success.
That was simply how the world worked.
Give and take.
* * *
Now temporarily bearing the title of Chief Health Authority of London, I immediately convened the entire health committee.
Meanwhile, John Snow and Florence Nightingale, assisted by detectives from the James Detective Agency, had scoured nearly every hospital in London and collected all available data.
Without modern tools like spreadsheets or word processors, compiling all the information was exhausting.
Yet the seasoned detectives managed to gather everything in less than a day.
"The confirmed death toll so far is 523. The number of patients is 2,124."
"The speed of transmission is extremely fast."
"But now it's almost certain. Everyone, please look at this map."
John Snow presented the completed map.
Black bars marked locations where cholera patients had appeared.
The pattern was unmistakable.
Members of the committee and attending parliamentarians exclaimed:
"Soho really was the source!"
"Yes. As this map clearly shows, the outbreak originated in Soho. But we still needed to determine what exactly caused it. The graph summarizing this data was prepared by my assistant, Miss Florence Nightingale. It is remarkably easy to understand."
Florence Nightingale had already shown the brilliance that would make her famous in history.
She visualized the statistics.
Deaths were represented by area, while water sources were distinguished by color depending on which company supplied the pump.
The result made the pattern unmistakable.
Two water companies stood out immediately.
And among them, the most conspicuous by far was the supplier Southwark and Vauxhall Water Company.
Presented as statistics—and then visualized—there was no room left for doubt.
Among people who drank from that company's pumps, the infection rate approached one hundred percent.
Even the few exceptions had been explained in footnotes.
"Now then, as everyone can see, cholera patients overwhelmingly used water supplied by the Southwark and Vauxhall company. That is why cases appeared even far from Soho—those people were drinking water from that pump. Meanwhile, households near the pump who did not contract cholera had been supplied beer instead of water, which spared them from the disaster."
"My God…"
"So cholera truly wasn't spread by foul air?"
"And the answer was this simple all along?"
The experts who had once dismissed John Snow as a quack stared at the documents again and again, like men possessed.
But the original data remained intact.
There was nothing they could dispute.
Nightingale's visual presentation made the truth impossible to ignore.
Humans responded far more strongly to visual patterns than to rows of numbers.
"Now that everyone understands the situation, I will explain the measures we will take. We will immediately shut down the water supplied by Southwark and Vauxhall and Lambeth."
"Your Highness! The water companies will surely protest."
"If the investigation proves their water was not responsible, I will personally compensate every loss caused by shutting down their supply. That should silence any complaints."
"…If that is the case…"
"And kindly remind them that if they do not wish to carry the disgrace of nearly spreading cholera across London with contaminated water, they should cooperate fully."
If they still refused after that—
Then I would personally smash the pumps myself.
"Um… Your Highness."
"Yes, Miss Nightingale? You did remarkable work this time. My judgment in appointing you as Professor Snow's assistant was clearly correct."
"Thank you! But regarding the pump shutdown, there is something important I must say…"
"Is there another company supplying contaminated water?"
"No, that's not it. The pump shutdown won't be necessary."
"…What?"
"I already did it."
"…?"
Excuse me?
I stared at her in disbelief.
Beside me, John Snow shouted in panic.
"Nightingale! What do you mean? Didn't you say you had His Highness's permission?!"
"John Snow, what exactly is going on here?"
"Your Highness! It wasn't me! I knew nothing! She told me you had approved it—!"
"Calm down and explain."
"As soon as we became certain that the pumps from those companies were the source, Miss Nightingale went to the companies and demanded they shut them down. Naturally they refused without proof. So… Miss Nightingale brought a hammer and smashed the pumps…"
Oh God.
I had completely forgotten one small detail about the White-clad Berserker.
Of course someone who valued human life above everything would never quietly tolerate something killing people.
"And what do you mean you had my permission?"
Using a royal name falsely could have been a serious problem.
But Florence Nightingale blinked in confusion.
"Didn't Your Highness once say that when saving lives, it is acceptable to act first and report afterward?"
"…Well."
If she put it that way, I really had no reply.
I looked at John Snow, whose eyes sparkled with admiration, and at Florence Nightingale, who stood there proudly with her shoulders squared.
A faint headache began forming.
…But time was short.
Better just laugh it off.
Have a drink.
After all—
The number of patients had already begun to fall.
And besides…
It was my own grave I had dug in the first place.