CHAPTER 12: THE ACQUISITION

  [INTEGRATION STATUS: CRITICAL]

  [NEW PERSONNEL: 400 (FORMER WARLORD INFANTRY)]

  [MANA CONSUMPTION: +300% DAILY]

  The dust from four hundred pairs of boots doesn't settle quickly. It hangs in the air, a physical manifestation of a logistical nightmare. I stood at the observation deck of the Oasis, watching the horizon. A line of men stretched across the dunes, moving toward my gates like a slow, rhythmic serpent. Lito—now technically my 'Regional Security Director'—was at the head, but he didn't look like a lion anymore. He looked like a man who had just realized that the weight of a contract is heavier than a greataxe.

  "Gray, the lobby is at maximum capacity," Lilo’s voice came through the comms. He sounded frayed. "The first hundred are through. They’re thirsty, agitated, and they don't like being told where to stand. Sammy is trying to organize them into blocks, but they only listen to Lito."

  "I didn't authorize a social gathering, Lilo," I said. I watched the heat signatures on my display. The mana-drain for the cooling system was spiking as four hundred bodies flooded into the basalt chambers. "Tell Lito that if his men don't follow the designated floor markers, I’ll shut off the vents in Sector 1. They can choose order or they can choose suffocation."

  "You can't treat four hundred soldiers like inventory, Gray!" Lilo snapped.

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  "I didn't hire soldiers, Lilo. I acquired a labor force. And inventory must be managed."

  I didn't go down to meet them. I stayed in the office, adjusting the automation. I had to divert forty percent of the Core’s output just to stabilize the hydration units.

  I looked at the cost-benefit analysis. Four hundred men meant four hundred mouths to feed, but it also meant four hundred soul-signatures feeding the Core’s background radiation. Every breath they took inside the Oasis was a micro-transaction of mana. If I kept them alive, the Core would grow at an exponential rate. If I failed to manage them, they would tear the building apart from the inside.

  "Sammy," I said, switching channels.

  "Yeah?" Sammy’s voice was a grunt. I could hear the clatter of shields in the background. "I'm a bit busy keeping a riot from starting, Gray."

  "I didn't call for an update on your stress levels. I need you to lead the first fifty to the 'Processing Wing.' They need to be fitted with Oasis tags. The tags track their location and their debt-to-labor ratio. If a man refuses the tag, he doesn't get a meal token."

  "They're going to hate this," Sammy muttered.

  "They'll hate hunger more. Proceed."

  I watched the security feed. The soldiers were staring at the polished walls, their hands touching the cool basalt with a mix of awe and suspicion. They had lived in the dirt and the wind for years. To them, the Oasis was a miracle. To me, it was a high-maintenance engine that was currently red-lining.

  [INFRASTRUCTURE STRAIN: 92%]

  I didn't feel the panic of a man losing control. I felt the focus of a man solving a complex equation. I needed more space. The lobby was too small. Floor 1 was too small.

  I opened the Core’s expansion menu. I didn't have the gold for a full excavation of Floor 3 yet, but I had the labor.

  "Lilo," I said. "Tell Lito his men are starting their first shift. They aren't going to be security today. They’re going to be an excavation crew. If they want to sleep in a room instead of a hallway, they’re going to have to dig it themselves."

  By midnight, the sounds of hammers and picks echoed through the stone. It wasn't the sound of war. It was the sound of a workforce realizing that in the Oasis, the only way to move forward was to follow the ledger.

  I didn't sleep. I sat at my desk, recording the first entries for the 'Junction Division.' Four hundred names. Four hundred debts.

  I was no longer just managing a party. I was managing a population.