The following morning, Phipp led the king to each house that he knew of with symptoms. Jason insisted, to Phipp’s reluctant agreement, that they did not touch any surfaces in the place and that they wash their hands with soap and water after each stop.

It was a much more considerable inconvenience than Jason had realized it would be since there weren’t sinks or running water at each location, but he did not want to spread whatever the sickness was. Sam kept a bar of soap and a small bucket of water to pour over their hands outside of each stop they made.

The first household they visited was in the poorer section of town, where residents had lived initially when Jason first arrived. Most of the original residents had enthusiastically moved to the new, larger houses that Jason had offered them, and more recent, impoverished arrivals took up residence in their former quarters, paying the original owners a small amount of rent.

The hovel Jason and Phipp entered was poorly lit and dirt-floored, though the occupants kept it neatly organized. Jason glanced around and noticed a cluster of wilted daisies stood in a clay vase on the lone table. A bed was placed up against the wall on one side of the space, apparently shared by the family of four. The mother, a young woman, greeted the weakly from her rocking chair near the dying embers on their hearth.

“Good morning, your majesty,” she croaked out as she tried to stand.

“Sit, sit,” Jason commanded, waving her back down. “You’re sick, and we don’t need to stand on ceremony.” He looked around the room further - at the empty bowls on a shelf, and the three family members still huddled under a blanket in bed on the moderately chilly morning. “How about we get that fire stoked for you and bring you some food? My treat. You rest there for a minute.”

The woman broke down in sobs and nodded. Jason looked to Phipp, who quietly slipped out the door. Soon, Samantha carried in a bundle of sticks, and the fire’s flames started to rise.

Jason started asking the woman some questions. None of them had fevers, she told her king, at least as far as she knew. They had all started to feel burning sensations, some in their fingers and some both their fingers and toes. The pain was debilitating.

“Any other symptoms?” Jason asked, trying to keep the frown off of his face for her sake. She struggled to her feet and hobbled over to the bed. Lifting the blanket at the bottom edge, she revealed her husband’s horrifyingly blackened, gangrenous feet.

Jason was barely able to keep from vomiting.

---

The king didn’t speak a single word as he walked along the city streets, deep in thought. He had visited the other two families showing signs of the disease, both farmers outside of town.

I’m no doctor, and right now, I wish a was one, Jason thought. If I don’t take quick, decisive action and make the right choice, this could turn into a nightmare. What are my priorities?

He thought for a moment. Figure out what this is. Viral, bacterial, poision… or something else I haven’t thought of? That changes what the right response is. Do I need to quarantine our kingdom’s cities to reduce the spread? We import so much of our food right now that people would quickly starve with a complete travel lockdown, and if we stop exports, we’d soon run out of money.

I need to recommend precautions or health guidelines. Or mandate them, rather than suggest.

Depending on how long this lasts, we could have food shortages as farmers get sick and die. Improving our food production practices to require fewer people and get more yield will be necessary, Jason thought, and then shook his head. Wow, that sounded harsh. But lack of food will weaken immune systems and make this whole thing worse.

Jason arrived back at his home and opened the door. Samantha followed him in and started warming them up some tea, as was her habit. Jason sat down on a chair at the table and placed his elbows on it, resting his chin on his intertwined hands. He stared, unseeing, at the opposite wall.

Sam placed his tea in front of him, startling him out of his thoughts. She sat across from him, took a sip, and made eye contact. “You’re worried, aren’t you?” the young lady asked.

Jason sighed. “This isn’t the scenario I would have chosen,” he said. “In fact, I specifically did not want to experience this.”

“Sometimes, we get to choose our lives,” Sam reflected. “Most of the time, we don’t.”

Truer than you know, Jason thought. I thought I had a choice as to the scenario I went through. But some Razor employee, or maybe the controlling AI, decided I needed to experience living through the freaking plague! Why would you do that?

Probably their precious data, he thought bitterly. Or maybe they want me to fail so I’ll stay in here longer, give them more to work with. Either way, that’s a pretty crummy move.

I’ve got to make my own reasons to get through this, regardless of theirs. I’d better come out of this stronger, mentally, than I came in. The unpleasant parts, if nothing else, are reminders that I don’t want to linger here any longer than necessary. I’ve got to win and take back some semblance of control over my life.

He looked across the table at Samantha, quietly sipping her tea. And what of you? And the rest of my friends in this world? You got even less of a choice than I did. I’ve treated you like you’re real, conscious beings since it felt like the right thing to do. But if I really believe that you are true intelligences - and the only thing that’s stopping me is the theoretical knowledge that you shouldn’t be - what are the implications?

My contract with Razor says I get the servers that house me when I’m done, along with this simulation and any software I need to keep myself running. I’m sure Tanya believed it was so I could live a life of my own in a realistic world. I thought it would make a great source of potential digital helpers in whatever I decide to do afterward on the Mars colony. But now - is it even ethical to leave them here in a world filled with pain and suffering?

Jason paused at that. Perhaps some are being given more server resources than others, and are more aware. In fact, I’m sure that is happening with my close circle. But where would I draw the line? And I still will need to vet them carefully if I don’t want to loose digital psychopaths on the world.

Sam fidgeted in her seat, growing more uncomfortable with the silence and Jason’s intense look.

Could I simply edit their personalities to be in line with what I need? Jason continued down his line of thought, then shook his head. That would remove any semblance of self-determination they had. Unless they gave me permission, I suppose.

Samanta cleared her throat, and Jason put aside the train of thought for the moment. “Can you take some notes? We’re going to get some use out of that printing press.”

---

Urgent Health Guidance

A Proclamation of Jason, Monarch of Unity

Due to the discovery of several cases of an unknown disease, it is highly recommended that all citizens follow the following instructions immediately until further notice.

Boil all water used for washing, cooking, or drinking.

Wash hands regularly and after coming into contact with other people. Reduce physical contact where possible throughout the normal course of your day. Do not sneeze, spit, or cough in the vicinity of others.

Avoid contact with any animals that may have fleas. Kill, then burn or bury the bodies of rats in particular, and wash yourself with soap immediately afterward.

Eat as many green vegetables as you can, particularly leafy greens and cruciferous vegetables like broccoli.

Drink plenty of water.

Air out clothes, bedsheets, and household objects in the bright sun where possible each day.

Spend time in the sun yourselves, though not to the point of sunburn.

---

Jason watched as the paper and type-set was rolled out from under the press. A woman stepped forward and lifted the printed pamphlet off of the type. “This one is not bad,” she decided and handed it to the king.

Jason turned the still-wet ink towards himself and inspected it. It’s a shame the first quantity print with this press is of something so… negative, he thought to himself. I was hoping for the reading primer that I’m not quite finished with.

“It looks good to me,” Jason said. “There’s a little bit where there was extra ink and the letters got filled in, but it’s still legible. You’ll get better as you do more,” he said, looking to the man who had applied the ink to the letters. “I bet by the time you’re finished with a few hundred more, you’ll be able to do it perfectly every time. Thank you all for getting this going so quickly. Having this in every neighborhood across our kingdom will be an important reminder. Hopefully, enough people can read them that those who aren't literate will be told about it quickly.”

After saying farewell to the group, who continued to print, he left the building. “What now?” the king asked his assistant.

“Nothing urgent,” Samantha replied, “though I might suggest a meal and some rest. You’re looking a little worn.”

“The meal sounds good,” Jason admitted. “I should really work on those manuscripts, though, so the press doesn’t sit empty after this.”

“I’ll go talk to Phipp about your meal. See you back at your house,” Sam called out as she headed in the direction of the bakery.

When Jason got home, he sat at the table and picked up a quill, then set it back down. My heart’s just not in it, he thought. It feels like I took a few steps forward, then got blasted backward.

With no one around to see him, he allowed himself to slump back in his chair and rub his brow. How am I supposed to deal with something like this that’s so totally out of my control? Will any of those slapped-together measures slow the spread, or help people’s immune systems enough to fight this off? Is the controlling AI even simulating immune systems? There’s just so much I don’t know…

But if I can teach more people to read, I can make more people learn about health and biology. If more people learn that, we’ll be able to make events like this less likely in the future - at least if they weren’t sent my way arbitrarily. We’re close to better sanitation systems. It won’t be too long before I start working on both steam power and electricity. I’ve got to do everything I can to move forward, even in times like this. Now, more than ever, is when progress is needed.

With renewed determination, he picked up his quill.

---

The farmer made it back to his house before climbing down from the wagon and collapsing in a heap. He willed strength back into his pained limbs long enough for his wife to help him to bed. I never knew there were so many of you, honey, he thought deliriously. His hallucinations grew more strange, and his wives morphed into wild beasts, tearing at his hands and feet, shouting at him through human mouths. Finally, he drifted off into black unconsciousness.