Monday morning brought experts.
A lot of experts.
Lena stood on the farmhouse porch with coffee and watched three vehicles come up the driveway.
Then a fourth.
She checked her phone.
Nothing from Marcus explaining why Redtail was apparently hosting an agricultural conference.
The first person out was a woman in work boots carrying a tablet.
The second had rolled plans under one arm.
The third immediately started looking at the ground.
By the time everyone had unloaded, Lena had an agronomist, an agricultural engineer, a controlled-environment agriculture specialist, an irrigation engineer, and someone whose introduction included the words livestock nutrition systems.
Lena looked at Marcus’s last message.
PRELIMINARY TEAM.
Right.
“Ms.
Mercer?”
The woman with the tablet approached.
“Lena.”
“Dr.
Priya Shah.
Marcus Chen asked us to evaluate the property for rapid agricultural development.”
“How rapid?”
Priya looked toward Redtail.
“That depends on what you’re trying to build.”
“Twenty days.”
Priya looked back at her.
“No.”
Lena appreciated the efficiency.
“Okay.
What can we build in twenty days?”
“That depends on what you’re trying to build.”
Apparently they were going in circles already.
Lena pulled out her notebook.
“Food production for twenty people minimum.
Expandable.
Outdoor production when possible.
Protected production when it isn’t.
Independent irrigation.
Water storage.
Staple crops.
Protein crops.
Nutritional diversity.
Perennials.
Seed starting.
Seed saving.
Livestock fodder.”
She turned the page.
“Backup irrigation.
Hydroponics if it makes sense.
Artificial-light propagation.
Enough equipment and replacement parts that one broken pump doesn’t ruin everything.”
Priya stared at her.
Lena continued.
“And I need at least limited production to continue through extreme heat, extreme cold, severe storms, disrupted rainfall and potentially prolonged periods where outdoor cultivation isn’t viable.”
Silence.
One of the men behind Priya lowered his clipboard.
Finally Priya said:
“What temperatures?”
“I don’t know.”
“Rainfall?”
“Don’t know.”
“Flood risk?”
“Low here.”
“Wind?”
“Unknown.”
“Duration?”
“Unknown.”
Priya looked at her for a long moment.
“You’re asking us to design around undefined environmental extremes.”
“Yes.”
“On a twenty-day timeline.”
“Yes.”
“For a minimum population of twenty.”
“Expandable.”
“Right.”
Lena smiled weakly.
“I’ve been told I’m difficult to work with.”
“I can imagine.”
Good.
They understood each other.
The next four hours were educational in the worst possible way.
Every solution created three new problems.
Greenhouses needed power.
Heating needed fuel or power.
Cooling needed power and water.
Hydroponics needed pumps.
Pumps failed.
Nutrient solutions required inputs.
Artificial lighting required enormous amounts of electricity.
Water storage required space.
Water treatment required equipment.
Outdoor agriculture required tractors, implements, irrigation, seed, fertilizer, pest control, storage and approximately seventeen things Lena had never heard of.
Then there was soil.
Apparently dirt was complicated.
Lena stood in one of Redtail’s fields while Priya dug into the ground with a soil probe.
“What are you looking for?”
“At the moment?
Texture.”
Lena looked at the dirt.
“And?”
Priya rubbed it between her fingers.
“We’ll know more after testing.”
Of course.
Someone else was already taking samples.
The irrigation engineer had disappeared toward the well.
The agricultural engineer was measuring the barn.
Two other people were arguing about where greenhouses should go.
Lena looked around.
“This is going well.”
Priya glanced at her.
“Actually, it is.”
“Oh.”
“You have land.
Existing agricultural infrastructure.
A productive well pending confirmed yield.
Reasonable access.
Existing outbuildings.
Good solar exposure in several areas.”
“That’s good?”
“Very.”
Finally.
Something she already owned was useful without requiring twelve trucks.
Then Priya added:
“Your timeline is still absurd.”
There it was.
By noon, they had a preliminary concept.
Outdoor fields would handle bulk production whenever conditions allowed.
Staple crops.
Beans.
Potatoes.
Corn.
Squash.
Other crops would rotate through depending on season and conditions.
Perennial plantings would go in as quickly as possible.
Fruit and nut trees.
Berries.
Anything that could establish now and produce later.
Protected production was harder.
Lena stood over a rough site plan spread across the hood of a truck.
Three greenhouse structures.
Not little backyard greenhouses.
Actual agricultural structures.
One primarily for general food production.
One designed around propagation, seedlings and higher-value crops.
One with more robust environmental control.
“Why three?” Lena asked.
“Redundancy,” Priya said.
Lena immediately liked her more.
“If one is damaged, contaminated, or loses a critical system, you don’t lose all protected production.”
“Good.”
“We can also maintain different environmental conditions.”
“Better.”
The controlled-environment specialist pointed toward the third structure.
“This one would be the most expensive.”
Lena almost asked how expensive.
Then remembered whose card was in her wallet.
“Why?”
“Insulation.
Environmental controls.
Supplemental lighting.
Heating.
Cooling.
Air handling.
Backup systems.”
“Can it grow food if it’s a hundred and twenty degrees outside?”
Everyone went quiet.
Lena sighed.
“Hypothetically.”
The specialist considered it.
“With sufficient power and cooling capacity, yes.”
“What about extreme cold?”
“Define extreme.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I can’t engineer against a number you won’t give me.”
“I don’t have a number.”
That was different.
Slightly.
He looked back at the plans.
“We can design beyond normal local conditions.
But there are practical limits.”
“Do that.”
“Considerably beyond?”
“As far as you reasonably can without making it impossible to finish.”
Priya looked at her.
“Finish in twenty days?”
“Preferably less.”
That got a laugh.
Lena wasn’t joking.
By one-thirty, Marcus had joined by video call.
His face appeared on Priya’s tablet.
“Ms.
Mercer.”
“Marcus.”
“I’ve received preliminary requirements.”
“Already?”
Priya looked offended.
“We’ve been sending them.”
“Oh.”
Marcus continued.
“Several items have long conventional lead times.”
Lena hated those words.
“How long?”
“Six to fourteen weeks for some greenhouse systems.
Longer for certain commercial environmental-control components.”
“No.”
Marcus paused.
“No?”
“I don’t have six weeks.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Right.
Of course he did.
Lena rubbed her forehead.
“So what do we do?”
“Alternative sourcing.”
Priya looked toward the tablet.
“Meaning?”
“Existing inventory.
Cancelled projects.
Distributor stock.
Demonstration equipment.
Used commercial systems where appropriate.
Components already allocated to Vale-controlled projects that can be reassigned.”
Lena looked at Marcus.
“You’re stealing from Adrian?”
“No.”
A pause.
“Mr.
Vale owns them.”
“That’s stealing from Adrian with paperwork.”
“I have authorization.”
Naturally.
The agricultural engineer leaned toward the tablet.
“Transportation becomes a problem.”
“Already being addressed.”
“Installation labor?”
“Available.”
“Electrical?”
“Coordinating.”
“Excavation?”
“Available.”
Priya looked at Lena.
Lena shrugged.
“Billionaire.”
That apparently answered several questions.
By three, the plan had become ridiculous.
Lena liked it.
Outdoor acreage prepared for production.
Drip irrigation where practical.
Backup overhead irrigation.
Water-storage tanks.
Multiple greenhouse structures.
Seed-starting space.
Protected fodder production.
Hydroponic capacity.
Agricultural storage.
Tool and equipment inventory.
Replacement pumps.
Replacement controllers.
Replacement greenhouse film.
Replacement irrigation components.
Replacement parts for the replacement parts.
Lena had stopped questioning that last category.
The world was ending.
Buy two.
Priya tapped the plan.
“This is not self-sufficiency.”
Lena looked at her.
“What?”
“This.”
She gestured across everything they’d designed.
“It’s a strong agricultural foundation.
With good conditions and time, it could support twenty people and potentially considerably more.”
“But?”
“If your environmental assumptions are accurate, there will be periods when production drops.”
“I know.”
“Potentially dramatically.”
“I know.”
“Stored food remains necessary.”
“I know.”
“External inputs remain necessary for some of these systems.”
“That’s the part I don’t like.”
Priya nodded.
“Then stock them.”
Simple.
Annoying.
Apparently Ruth wasn’t the only person who did that.
“How much?”
“As much as you can reasonably store.”
Lena almost laughed.
That question had become complicated.
She looked toward the proposed greenhouse sites.
“Can you make it less dependent on outside inputs?”
“Yes.”
“Do that.”
“It will cost more.”
“Not currently my problem.”
Priya’s eyebrows rose.
Lena reconsidered.
“That’s not entirely true.
But do it anyway.”
They adjusted.
Composting.
Manure management.
Soil amendments.
Seed saving.
Reusable growing media where possible.
Mechanical systems that could be repaired rather than replaced wholesale.
Standardized pumps and components across multiple systems.
Manual backups.
That one Lena liked.
“If power dies, I want things to still work.”
“Some things won’t.”
“Then I want the important things to fail slowly.”
Priya looked at her.
“That’s actually a useful design requirement.”
“Finally.
I’m helping.”
By late afternoon, they had enough.
Not final plans.
Not remotely.
But enough for Marcus to begin turning money into infrastructure.
Lena stood beside the truck while the team packed up.
Then remembered.
“Wait.”
Priya stopped.
Lena looked at the plans.
The System had been updating quietly throughout the day.
Outdoor Food-Production Capacity: PLANNED
Protected Food-Production Capacity: PLANNED
Independent Irrigation and Water Storage: IN PROGRESS
Diverse Seed and Propagation Reserves: PARTIAL
Agricultural Equipment and Replacement Components: IN PROGRESS
Protected Livestock-Fodder Production: PLANNED
Resilience Requirement: INSUFFICIENT
That last one had not moved.
Lena frowned.
‘System.
Would the current plan satisfy the Resilience Requirement?’
Partially.
Lena’s satisfaction disappeared.
‘What’s missing?’
Current design cannot sustain agricultural production through projected maximum environmental extremes.
She stared.
Projected maximum environmental extremes.
Not hypothetical.
Projected.
That was new.
‘Can you define those extremes?’
Information unavailable at current Access Tier.
Of course.
‘Can this design be improved enough to satisfy the requirement?’
Yes.
Lena straightened.
‘How?’ Get faster updates on g.com.
Multiple valid solutions exist.
‘Name one.’
Insufficient Access Tier.
‘You’re an asshole.’
Lena stared at the plans.
They could do it.
The System had just confirmed that.
Somehow.
She just didn’t know what it was.
‘System.
What happens if I complete the protected agricultural infrastructure before Transition?’
The interface flickered.
Lena went still.
HIDDEN REWARD CONDITION IDENTIFIED
Complete protected agricultural infrastructure prior to Transition.
Reward Preview:
SPATIAL CULTIVATION ANNEX
Further information unavailable until prerequisite completion.
Lena stopped breathing.
Spatial.
She read it again.
Cultivation.
Annex.
No.
No fucking way.
‘System.’
Listening.
‘Is that growing space?’
Yes.
Everything else disappeared.
The trucks.
The people.
The half-built feed storage.
The greenhouse plans.
For one moment, there was only that word.
Yes.
Her Inventory stopped time.
Nothing aged.
Nothing spoiled.
Nothing grew.
But a cultivation annex…
Time would move.
Plants could grow there.
Protected from whatever happened outside.
Heat.
Cold.
Flood.
Fire.
Storms.
Transition.
Maybe.
She needed details.
‘Would it be affected by external weather?’
Further information unavailable until prerequisite completion.
‘How big is it?’
Reward quality dependent upon quest completion quality.
Lena narrowed her eyes.
There it was.
The System’s favorite phrase.
Completion quality.
She looked at the plans again.
Three greenhouses suddenly weren’t greenhouses.
They were a prerequisite.
A key.
Priya was watching her now.
So were two other people.
Lena picked up the plans.
“How fast can you build these?”
Priya blinked.
“We’ve been discussing that all day.”
“No.
I mean how fast can you actually build them?”
“With conventional procurement?”
“No.”
Priya glanced toward the tablet Marcus had been speaking through earlier.
“Apparently not.”
“Money?”
Lena thought of Adrian.
“Not the limiting factor.”
“Labor?”
“Marcus.”
“Materials?”
“Marcus.”
Priya studied her.
“What changed?”
Lena looked down at the words only she could see.
SPATIAL CULTIVATION ANNEX
She smiled.
“I found a reason to be unreasonable.”
Priya stared.
“You weren’t already?”
Fair.
Lena pulled out her phone.
One message to Marcus.
LENA: Greenhouses are now top priority.
I need protected agricultural infrastructure operational before the deadline.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
MARCUS: Define operational.
Lena looked at the quest.
Not delivered.
Not assembled.
Complete.
LENA: Capable of growing food.
MARCUS: Understood.
Then Lena opened Adrian’s messages.
She hesitated.
Last night she’d told him she might have a solution to storage.
Something she didn’t want to tell him.
She still wasn’t ready.
But the System had just offered her something potentially far more important than another hundred cubic meters of storage.
And completing it in twenty days was going to require Adrian’s machinery at full speed.
She typed:
LENA: I need the greenhouse project finished before Transition.
His response came a minute later.
ADRIAN: Marcus informed me.
Of course he had.
LENA: No.
Finished.
Not mostly finished.
Not materials on site.
Operational.
ADRIAN: Why?
Lena looked at the reward again.
She could lie.:She could say the System, her source, considered it critical.
That would probably be enough.
Instead she typed:
LENA: There’s a reward if I finish it before the deadline.
Nothing.
Then:
ADRIAN: Reward.
Lena winced.
She really needed to watch her phrasing better.
LENA: Yes.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
ADRIAN: Your source rewards you for completing objectives.
Well.
Fuck.
Lena stared at the message.
She could still dodge.
Technically.
She was getting tired of technically.
LENA: Sometimes.
The response took longer this time.
ADRIAN: What is the reward?
Lena thought about the words.
SPATIAL CULTIVATION ANNEX.
No.
That required explaining Spatial.
And Spatial required explaining Inventory.
She wasn’t doing that by text message.
LENA: Complicated.
ADRIAN: The third kind?
Lena smiled despite herself.
He remembered.
LENA: Very much the third kind.
A pause.
ADRIAN: Then tell me when you’re ready.
Lena stared at that.
Again.
No pressure.
Annoying.
She put the phone away.
The agricultural team was leaving.
Tomorrow, materials would start arriving.
Somewhere, Marcus was apparently preparing to tear apart normal procurement timelines.
And Adrian now knew one more thing he hadn’t known yesterday.
Her mysterious source didn’t just give information.
It gave rewards.
The circle was tightening.
Lena looked toward the empty field where the first greenhouse would go.
Then toward the countdown.
19 DAYS : 05 HOURS : 06 MINUTES
Less than twenty.
She’d wanted time to decide what to tell Adrian.
Apparently the System had other plans.