The first new case appeared three days after the ship burned.
Lysander was in the supply office when Antiphus came to him, his face drawn, his mask still hanging loose around his neck. He had not bothered to remove it properly. He had come straight from the settlement, and the news he carried was written in the tightness of his jaw.
"A child," Antiphus said. "In the northern section. A boy of six. He has the same lesions, the same fever. His mother says he was playing near the harbour on the morning the ship arrived. She says he was in the crowd before the quarantine was established."
Lysander set down his stylus. The militia supply lists could wait. The grain allocation reports could wait. Everything could wait except this.
"Can you treat him."
