Chapter 392 - The People on the Ship
"So they're from the same time-space."
"Nine out of ten." Lin Chuanqing lit a cigarette. Everyone fell into silent contemplation. Where did this ship come from? How did it cross time-space to arrive here? Was it wormhole disturbance, or was this sea area itself a wormhole—17th century above, 21st century below? Had others crossed over? Were they alive or dead? If alive, where were they now? How would they view this group of ambitious adventurers? Friendly or hostile...
A string of question marks swirled in everyone's minds, unanswerable.
After discussion, they decided to make more dives while daylight remained, thoroughly searching the ship.
Subsequently Zhou Weisen, Lin Chuanqing, and Gao Xiaosong took turns diving. They surveyed around the wreck, diving into the cabin. Except for locked compartments and the complex engine room terrain, Zhou Weisen had inspected nearly everything, retrieving more items.
During these dives they found human remains, fallen on the reef plate far from the wreck. Had sharks not torn the oilcloth wrapped around the body, they wouldn't have noticed. The corpse had been completely destroyed by sharks and marine life. Octopi and crabs were still feasting on it.
To uncover the truth, despite the nauseating task, they retrieved the remains.
Though some muscle and skin remained, the face was completely unrecognizable. From remaining hair color, this was a Caucasian. The person was wrapped in marine oilcloth, feet weighted with two heavy dumbbells. Apparently a sea burial. This person was likely one of the shipwreck's passengers.
"Should we bring the remains back?"
"Absolutely—this is important evidence."
So they rewrapped the remains. After transport, examining them would be the Health Department's job.
They continued expanding the search around the wreck but found no more human remains. The reef plate's edges had some very deep trenches they couldn't search. One thing was certain: survivors had left after burying the dead at sea. Zhou Weisen noticed one of two sampans on deck was missing; some cabin equipment showed signs of removal. Combined with no large-scale oil leakage, the ship was apparently scuttled after exhausting fuel.
"The ship had at least one person, at most eight." Lin Chuanqing deduced.
"A sampan holds at most eight?"
"Yes, and I think there were only two or three people when abandoning ship—otherwise it's hard to explain not taking more supplies. In an emergency, shouldn't you take as much as possible? If it were me, I'd take both sampans."
"Clearly another group arrived in this time-space, likely Americans." Gao Xiaosong summarized. "We must heighten vigilance. They scuttled the ship clearly not wanting discovery. The upright positioning probably facilitates future salvage."
"Could be time-travel management bureau people."
"The time-travel management bureau would be American-run? At least it'd be a UN organization."
Whether time-travel bureau or random entrants like the Ming family in the Qiongzhou Strait, others from their time-space had arrived. What they intended, how the transmigrator collective would handle them—that wasn't for Gao Xiaosong's group to consider.
However, everyone agreed: this ship should be salvaged. Repaired, it would be a decent vessel.
Bai Guoshi said: "This ship's displacement is about 100 tons—no worse than the Navy's 8154 fishing trawlers. The hull's intact. Restoration shouldn't be difficult. Plus the ship has many useful materials."
After returning to Lingao, the survey team submitted two reports and attended two briefings. One was for the weekly gazette—per Xiao Zishan's suggestion, the Executive Committee now issued an internal government gazette weekly. A demonstration of "open governance."
The gazette report covered the Dongsha Island survey. The other was their shipwreck report—currently top secret, known only to involved parties and key Executive Committee leadership.
Ma Qianzhu soon received another report personally delivered by Ran Yao—a surveillance report on Zhou Weisen and Lin Chuanqing written by a survey team transmigrator. The report clearly stated: they showed no abnormalities throughout the survey.
Ran Yao waited as Ma Qianzhu read, then fell into contemplation for several minutes before reminding: "Director! Finished reading?"
"Hmm? Finished." Ma Qianzhu showed a relaxed expression. "This is best!"
"Yes, I personally believe the North American members are above suspicion."
Ma Qianzhu nodded, held the report to a gas lamp and lit it, watching it turn to ash. Ran Yao relaxed—he'd planned to retrieve and destroy that paper.
Subsequently a secret meeting was held with the survey team. Bai Guoshi's proposal for complete salvage was rejected. Though the repaired ship would be useful, once towed to Bo-pu, the secret of an "unplanned" ship couldn't be hidden.
"We'll salvage useful materials and equipment in batches." Ma Qianzhu said. "Many items will be wasted if they soak too long."
"Food, medicine, tools, small equipment—all useful."
"Might even fish out crates of heroin, cocaine, or marijuana."
"Too bad these are useless to us—if only it were an arms smuggling ship."
If it were an arms ship, it would certainly have large quantities of weapons and ammunition. Though they didn't feel short on small arms, having an AK-47 or similar automatic weapon would be exciting.
"Finding portable anti-aircraft missiles would be depressing."
"Hahaha." Laughter filled the meeting room.
"Aren't you celebrating too early?" Wen Desi said slowly. "What about the people on the ship? Don't forget this key issue."
"Not a big problem." Ran Yao said. "The survey team believes so few people were aboard they could only take one sampan. A few isolated transmigrators won't make big waves."
"Could other ships have been together?"
"Extremely unlikely—otherwise, abandoning so many things would be too wasteful."
"I'm not worried they'll become a force—we five hundred, thoroughly prepared, have only achieved this small situation. The key concern is them joining an opponent. Then our cards would be completely exposed. That's most critical." Wen Desi was very concerned.
"Nothing we can do—completely beyond our control. We can only order heightened vigilance. Anyone suspicious should be captured or immediately—killed—" Ma Qianzhu said gravely.
Just then, Shi Niaoren arrived with an autopsy report.
"The body found by the survey team: male, age between 35 and 40, Caucasian; hair remnants are brown. Height 1.87 meters, extremely developed musculature; estimated weight around 100 kilograms."
"A big man—"
"Correct. Based on remains analysis, this person suffered multiple injuries during life, including gunshot wounds..."
"Shot to death?"
"No—the gunshot wounds are old. Happened many years ago."
In summary: the deceased was a prime-aged man, tall and muscular, with multiple past injuries. Shi Niaoren believed: this was probably a soldier.
"At least someone who dealt with danger." Ran Yao said. "Military or law enforcement."
"The time-travel management bureau would also be law enforcement."
"Let's drop the bad jokes."
Ran Yao suddenly remembered something.
"Does everyone remember an incident reported by our observation post outside the county seat during D-Day?"
"What?"
"Among Ming troops heading to reinforce the county, they were escorting a European prisoner."
"Don't remember. Was there such a thing?"
"Of course. Li Jun and Wei Aiwen witnessed it. Their report should be in the archives."
"Get it immediately!"
The report contained scant information—merely noting a European-looking prisoner in the column. No details whatsoever.
"This happened! Is the person still in Lingao county prison?" Wen Desi exclaimed.
"Haven't asked—"
"Have Xiong Buyou immediately investigate. Is this European still in Lingao? Did he bring anything? What did he say? Where is he now..."
"Director Wen, don't get excited." Wu De counseled. "The timeline doesn't match."
According to Ran Yao, the European was sighted just days after D-Day. This location was far from the Dongsha Islands. Even if this person came from the ship, he couldn't possibly have arrived at Lingao that quickly.
"Time-space disturbances are unpredictable!"
At Wen Desi's insistence, Xiong Buyou was assigned this task. He didn't recall any European in the county!
Xiong Buyou now worked for the Foreign Commerce Committee, specifically liaising with Lingao County Yamen. He directly approached the county yamen's jailer. The jailer confirmed: indeed, a Westerner had been escorted in by a patrol deputy—found at the coast. After arrival, he'd been jailed.
"Is he still there?"
"Long gone—sent to the prefectural capital. Probably a redhead from Macau who fell overboard."
"Did he have any belongings?"
"What could survive falling into patrol deputy hands?" The jailer sneered.
As for origins—Lingao County had no interpreters. The redhead couldn't speak Chinese, so naturally there were no interrogation records.
Xiong Buyou's investigation disappointed the Executive Committee—this person probably wasn't a sailor from the wreck.
The shipwreck salvage plan was approved. Lin Chuanqing's group remained in charge. For safety, a fishing trawler was dispatched, carrying necessary salvage materials and equipment. All crew were carefully selected, guaranteed reliable and tight-lipped.
Fu Buer emerged from the Heaven and Earth Society office building in a daze, mind still not quite processing—had he done the right thing or wrong?
Because he'd only declared fifty mu when registering, he'd been classified as "middle peasant." At the promotion meeting, watching neighboring village landlords with less land sign service contracts—the Society's Australians would visit villages with seeds and farming assistance—he'd only received a voucher for ten chicks. This alarmed him—chickens, he had dozens already! Australian seeds were what mattered.
He rushed to the Society clerk.
"That's correct. You only have fifty mu—just a middle peasant. The seeds you want are currently only available to grain households owning over 100 mu who personally manage cultivation."
Fu Buer stammered that he actually had a hundred mu—actually two hundred.
"Then bring your deed first—talk is cheap."
Fu Buer returned home to another tongue-lashing from his wife, accusing him of being blinded, determined to jump into fire pits. This quarrel actually steeled his resolve—he brought his deeds for verification.
"Two hundred twenty-seven mu." The clerk verified. "All self-farmed? None leased out?"
"All cultivated by myself with household servants and hired hands."
"Good, just sign this contract."
Fu Buer was illiterate, so the clerk read it aloud. Essentially rights and obligations. Seeds, fertilizer, and pesticides were charged by quantity, plus technical service fees. He wanted to back out. Finally hearing the first year was promotional—except for seeds and service fees, everything else was waived—he relaxed and signed. Thinking: once I get seeds the first year, I won't participate in this nonsense again.
Also joining was county notable Zhang Youfu, now a Civil Affairs Committee consultant. By traditional classification, Zhang Youfu was a collaborator lackey. He didn't own much land and had no enthusiasm for farming. But if Australians wanted to run some Heaven and Earth Society helping with farming, fine.
Besides them, various local medium and small landlords and rich peasants joined. Most owned between 100 and 300 mu. Most county landlords were suspicious—many inquired about seeds, but hearing Society membership was required for services, they retreated. The first batch of planting service customers totaled only eleven households. One was unexpected—the county academy's educational officer.
No one expected the old pedant to do something so bold. Actually, he was desperate.
County Educational Officer Wang Ci was an old xiucai, holding this "impoverished post" for many years. Ming-era Lingao's education was relatively developed for Hainan—besides the county academy, there were private "study halls." But the county academy's condition was quite poor.
(End of Chapter)