Lena woke to the sound of a truck backing up.
Not unusual anymore.
The second truck was more concerning.
The third made her sit up.
By the time she reached the window, there were five.
One was already inside the gate.
Another was turning off the road.
Two more waited behind it.
And something enormous was crawling up the drive on a flatbed.
Lena stared.
“What the fuck?”
She pulled on yesterday’s jeans and went downstairs.
The front door opened onto organized insanity.
Workers were everywhere.
Not the same workers.
Different crews.
A group in hard hats was unloading bundles of steel framing near the greenhouse site.
Another crew had already marked out trenches.
A compact excavator was digging one of them.
Farther out, a tractor Lena had never seen before was turning soil in the field.
There were rolls of irrigation tubing.
Pallets of fittings.
Stacks of lumber.
Electrical conduit.
Water tanks.
Pumps.
Fans.
Grow lights.
Something wrapped in plastic that appeared to be an industrial control panel.
Lena stopped in the driveway.
Marcus stood beside a forklift with a tablet in one hand and coffee in the other.
He saw her.
“Morning.”
Lena looked around.
“Marcus?”
“Yes?”
“What happened?”
He glanced behind him.
“To what?”
She gestured broadly.
“Redtail.”
“Oh.”
A truck horn sounded near the gate.
Marcus lifted one finger, spoke briefly into his headset, then returned his attention to her.
“You said the greenhouses were priority.”
“I said they were a priority.”
“Correct.”
Another flatbed rolled through the gate.
Lena watched it pass.
It carried commercial greenhouse panels.
A lot of them.
“How many people are here?”
“Currently?”
“That is already a bad answer.”
“Forty-three.”
Lena stared at him.
“More arriving at eight.”
It was seven-twenty.
“Marcus.”
“You gave me a list.”
“I gave you six pages.”
“Yes.”
“And you decided to do all six pages today?”
“No.”
He looked mildly offended.
“That would be unrealistic.”
Lena waited.
“We’ve started on four.”
Of course they had.
She looked toward the greenhouse site again.
Yesterday, it had been stakes, measurements, and an idea.
Today there were people pouring footings.
Beyond them, someone was laying irrigation line.
And beyond that, two tractors were working the fields.
Nobody was waiting for anyone else to finish.
That was the part that finally clicked.
They weren’t completing projects anymore.
They were running them in parallel.
Fence.
Water.
Greenhouses.
Fields.
Power.
Storage.
Food.
Livestock.
Everything at once.
Lena had spent the last week thinking in terms of what came next.
Marcus apparently did not believe in next.
Marcus believed in simultaneously.
A box truck pulled up beside the barn.
The rear door rolled open.
Food.
Pallets of it.
Rice.
Flour.
Sugar.
Beans.
Oats.
Cooking oil.
Canned vegetables.
Canned fruit.
Shelf-stable milk.
Cases of pasta.
More canned meat than Lena had ever seen in one place.
Another truck was waiting behind it.
“What is that?”
“Food.”
“I can see that.”
“Then I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
Lena turned slowly toward him.
“How much food?”
“That delivery?”
“Marcus.”
“Roughly eleven thousand pounds.”
Lena’s eyebrows went up.
“And the one behind it?”
“Different supplier.”
“How much?”
“About nine.”
“Thousand?”
“Yes.”
The forklift beeped.
A pallet of canned tomatoes came down.
Lena watched it.
Then another.
Then another.
Her first Costco trip surfaced vividly in her memory.
Two carts.
Then three.
Then however many trips she’d made afterward while feeling like a deranged survivalist.
She’d been so pleased with herself.
She couldn’t even fit it all in her car.
Marcus had apparently decided to invade agriculture.
Her Costco haul was adorable.
Actually adorable.
Like a child’s emergency kit.
She almost resented it.
A worker approached Marcus with a question about where to stage the feed.
Marcus pointed toward the north side of the barn.
Lena frowned.
“Feed?”
“Arrived twenty minutes ago.”
“How much?”
“Which kind?”
She closed her eyes.
“Never mind.”
“Probably wise.”
Another truck turned in.
Lena watched sacks of grain being unloaded.
She had wanted scale.
This was scale.
And it was only Tuesday.
She looked at the food again.
Twenty thousand pounds between two deliveries.
More coming.
Not enough.
The thought arrived instantly.
Not enough.
Her stomach sank.
Because the horrifying thing was that she knew why.
Twenty people.
One year.
Crop failures.
Spoilage.
Unexpected arrivals.
Increased caloric demand.
Animals.
Seeds that didn’t germinate.
Equipment that broke.
A harvest that failed because the weather had become completely insane.
They needed reserves behind the reserves.
Lena stared at the pallets.
A notification appeared.
She blinked.
SYSTEM NOTICE
BEHAVIORAL THRESHOLD REACHED
Lena straightened.
Oh.
Oh, finally.
Her status had been sitting there with TRAIT: NONE since the System appeared.
She focused on the notification.
TRAIT ACQUIRED
ACQUISITIVE
Lena grinned.
Sweet.
She had a trait.
She-
Her eyes moved down.
ACQUISITIVE
You demonstrate a persistent tendency to identify, obtain, retain, and consolidate useful resources beyond immediate need.
Lena’s smile disappeared.
She read it again.
Obtain.
Retain.
Beyond immediate need.
Her gaze shifted slowly toward the pallets of food.
Then the feed.
Then the greenhouse equipment.
Then the trucks waiting at the gate.
Back to the System.
‘Did you just call me a hoarder?’
Acquisitive is a recognized behavioral trait.
‘That was not my question.’
No response.
Lena narrowed her eyes.
Okay.
Fine.
Whatever.
The System could be judgmental if it wanted.
She had a trait.
Presumably traits did something useful.
‘What does Acquisitive do?’
Acquisitive currently provides no direct effects.
Lena stared.
‘What?’
Acquisitive currently provides no direct effects.
‘No.
I read it.
What do you mean it doesn’t do anything?’
Traits represent established behavioral patterns and may influence future System development, opportunities, rewards, and evolutionary pathways.
Lena’s mouth fell open.
‘So you called me a hoarder-‘
Acquisitive. New chapters come out on g.com first.
‘-and I’m not even getting anything out of it?’
No response.
Lena looked around at the trucks.
At the pallets.
At the greenhouse frames.
At the feed.
At the construction materials.
Then back at the empty air.
‘Rude.’
“Something wrong?”
Lena looked over.
Marcus was watching her.
“No.”
A forklift passed between them carrying another pallet of rice.
Lena watched it go.
“Apparently I’m developing as a person.”
Marcus considered that.
“My condolences.”
Lena snorted.
A crew foreman called his name.
Marcus started toward him.
Lena followed for three steps, then stopped.
“Marcus.”
He turned.
“How much more is coming today?”
He glanced at the tablet.
“Do you want the honest answer?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He kept walking.
Lena stared after him.
Another truck backed through the gate.
She looked at the greenhouse frames.
The irrigation trenches.
The tractors.
The tanks.
The pallets.
The feed.
The construction crews.
Nineteen days ago, Redtail had been a farm.
Yesterday, it had been a plan.
This morning, it looked like someone had handed that plan to an industrial machine and told it to hurry.
Lena smiled despite herself.
Then looked toward the next arriving truck.
Potentially valuable resources.
Well.
If the System wanted acquisitive, Lena could give it acquisitive.
The last of the hay arrived a little after ten.
By then, Lena had already watched three semis, two box trucks, and something carrying enough greenhouse glass to make her nervous come through the gate, so another truck barely registered.
Ruth was the one who pointed it out.
“That’s the rest of the hay.”
Lena looked up.
“The last of it?”
“Should be.”
That got her attention.
She abandoned Marcus’s latest delivery manifest and followed Ruth toward the barn.
The ninety-day feed reserve had turned out to be considerably larger than Lena had pictured when she’d first seen the requirement.
Hay occupied an alarming amount of space.
So did grain.
So did chicken feed, supplements, minerals, and everything else required to keep multiple species alive for three months without assuming they could buy a single additional thing.
The truck was already half unloaded by the time they reached it.
Lena watched another stack come down.
Then another.
The final bales hit the ground.
A blue window appeared.
QUEST COMPLETE
A FARM NEEDS LIFE
Infrastructure alone cannot sustain a settlement.
A resilient livestock population has been established at Primary Settlement.
OBJECTIVES
Acquire 3 productive livestock species: COMPLETE
Establish 1 renewable protein source: COMPLETE
Establish 1 renewable dairy or equivalent nutritional source: COMPLETE
Establish breeding-capable populations of at least 2 species: COMPLETE
Maintain sufficient genetic diversity for sustainable breeding: COMPLETE
Establish 90 days of feed reserves: COMPLETE
Acquire basic veterinary supplies: COMPLETE
OPTIONAL OBJECTIVES
Select livestock with favorable Transition stability: COMPLETE
Establish redundant breeds within a critical production category: INCOMPLETE
Acquire working animals suitable for settlement functions: COMPLETE
COMPLETION QUALITY
EXCELLENT
All primary objectives completed.
Most optional objectives completed.
REWARDS
Spatial Inventory Expansion
Advanced Animal Appraisal
Livestock Management Interface
Bonus Reward: QUALIFIED
BONUS REWARD
RESILIENT STOCK
Settlement Modifier
Livestock maintained as part of Primary Settlement receive enhanced physiological resilience.
Effects:
Increased resistance to disease.
Increased tolerance for extreme heat and cold.
Reduced feed and water requirements.
Increased tolerance for temporary food and water deprivation.
Improved recovery from environmental stress, nutritional deficits and physical hardship.
Reduced mortality during adverse conditions.
Effect strength varies by species, age, health and existing Transition stability.
This modifier does not eliminate the need for adequate food, water, shelter or veterinary care.
Lena grinned.
Finally.
The window changed.
REWARDS
LIVESTOCK MANAGEMENT INTERFACE
Provides integrated management of domesticated non-sapient animals maintained within your settlement.
Available functions include:
Population tracking
Health monitoring
Feed consumption and projection
Reproductive status
Breeding records
Genetic diversity assessment
Production tracking
Automated alerts
ANIMAL APPRAISAL UPGRADED
Additional information now available:
Reproductive health
Breeding suitability
Genetic compatibility
Inherited risk factors
Population contribution value
SPATIAL INVENTORY
Previous Capacity: 2500.00 m³
New Capacity: 5000.00 m³
Now that was useful.
Lena immediately opened the new interface.
Every animal at Redtail appeared.
Organized by species.
Then breed.
Then individual animal.
Current population.
Sex ratios.
Breeding-age animals.
Pregnancies.
Projected feed consumption.
Health alerts.
Production estimates.
Lena stared.
Holy shit.
She selected feed.
Numbers reorganized.
Current reserves.
Average daily consumption.
Projected consumption by species.
Expected seasonal variation.
Days remaining.
She could actually see exactly how long the feed would last.
Not Ruth’s estimate.
Not Lena’s increasingly elaborate spreadsheet.
Exactly.
“Lena.”
She blinked.
Ruth was looking at her.
“What?”
“You planning on standing there all day?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Ruth started toward the animals.
Lena followed.
This was going to be fun.
It took approximately fifteen minutes for Ruth to become suspicious.
Lena had expected longer.
She started with the chickens.
Appraise.
The familiar information appeared, followed by considerably more than she’d been able to see yesterday.
Health.
Age.
Production.
Reproductive status.
Genetic compatibility.
Inherited risks.
Breeding suitability.
Lena moved to another.
Then another.
“This one’s laying less.”
Ruth glanced over.
“She’s molting.”
“I know.”
Ruth looked at her.
Lena moved on.
“This rooster shouldn’t go with that group.”
“Why?”
“Too closely related.”
Silence.
Lena looked over.
Ruth was staring at her.
“What?”
“How do you know that?”
Lena glanced at the rooster.
“Records.”
“What records?”
“The…
livestock records.”
“You haven’t looked at the livestock records.”
Shit.
“Can we focus?”
Ruth’s eyes narrowed.
Lena turned deliberately back toward the birds.
The goats were worse.
“This one should be bred first.”
“Why?”
“Best genetic match.”
Ruth stopped walking.
Lena kept going.
“And we should avoid pairing that doe with-”
“Lena.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“Three days ago you asked me how often goats need their hooves trimmed.”
“People learn.”
“Not like this.”
“I’ve been reading.”
“What?”
“Things.”
Ruth stared at her.
Lena stared back.
A goat shoved its nose against Lena’s arm.
Lena scratched between its ears.
Ruth muttered something under her breath.
Lena decided not to ask.
The important part was that the System agreed with what they’d done.
Their breeding populations were viable.
The ratios were good.
Genetic diversity wasn’t perfect, but it was healthy enough to maintain.
A few pairings should be avoided.
A few animals were particularly valuable genetically.
Nothing was screaming DISASTER at her.
Which was nice.
Lena had become accustomed to things screaming DISASTER at her.
She opened the Livestock Management Interface again.
There was even a breeding planner.
Of course there was.
She selected two animals.
COMPATIBILITY: GOOD
Another pair.
COMPATIBILITY: EXCELLENT
Another.
COMPATIBILITY: NOT RECOMMENDED
“Okay, that’s fucking amazing.”
Ruth looked over.
“What is?”
Lena froze.
“The…”
She looked around.
Goats.
Fence.
Hay.
Absolutely nothing helpful.
“…goats.”
“The goats are fucking amazing.”
“These particular goats.”
Ruth stared at her for several seconds.
“Right.”
Lena cleared her throat.
Maybe she needed to be more careful.
She switched to the population overview.
Everything looked surprisingly good.
They’d done this right.
Not perfectly.
But right.
Then Lena noticed the quest still sitting at the edge of her vision.
OPTIONAL OBJECTIVE
Establish redundant breeds within a critical production category: INCOMPLETE
Right.
That.
She’d almost forgotten about it.
Not because they’d decided it wasn’t useful.
They’d just had approximately nine thousand other things to do.
At the time, they needed breeding populations.
Shelter.
Water.
Feed.
Quarantine.
Fencing.
A functioning livestock operation assembled practically overnight.
A second breed doing something they already had covered had landed somewhere around would be nice.
Lena looked back toward the barn.
Things were different now.
Not calmer.
There were forty-something strangers currently tearing up various sections of her property while Marcus attempted to purchase half the state.
But they had resources.
And the objective was still sitting there.
‘Can I still complete the optional objective?’
YES.
Lena perked up.
‘And I still get the bonus reward?’
YES.
Excellent.
‘What’s the reward?’
REWARD INFORMATION UNAVAILABLE UNTIL COMPLETION.
Of course.
Lena stared at INCOMPLETE.
She really didn’t like that word.
And now that she knew there was still a reward attached to it…
Well.
Leaving it unfinished would practically be wasteful.
“Ruth.”
Ruth sighed.
“What now?”
“Remember the breed redundancy we didn’t bother with?”
Ruth glanced over.
“What about it?”
“I want to do it.”
“Now?”
“We have the basics handled.
And Marcus can probably find whatever we ask for.”
Ruth considered that.
“Probably.”
“So if we’re going to add another breed, I don’t want to just check the box.”
“Meaning?”
Lena looked back at the animals.
“I want something that actually makes us safer.
Different genetics.
Same production category.
Hardy.
Good breeders.”
“Makes sense.”
“And if there’s a chance we won’t be able to bring in new animals later…”
Ruth’s expression sobered.
“Plan like we won’t.”
Exactly.
Lena nodded.
“Then I want to do it right.
Genetics.
Disease resistance.
Production.
Long-term viability.”
She paused.
“And preferably breeds worth preserving.”
Ruth looked at her.
“Worth preserving.”
Lena frowned.
“Yeah.”
The words had come out almost automatically.
But now that she’d said them…
Why stop at what Redtail needed?
If they were buying livestock under the assumption that whatever they had when the countdown reached zero might be all they had access to afterward, then what survived mattered too.
Not every breed was interchangeable.
Some had traits others didn’t.
Some were better adapted to heat.
Cold.
Poor forage.
Disease.
Some represented genetics that couldn’t simply be recreated if they disappeared.
Lena looked across the pasture.
“Actually, I don’t think I know enough to decide this.”
“You don’t.”
Lena looked at Ruth.
“Thanks.”
“You don’t,” Ruth repeated.
“Neither do I.”
That got Lena’s attention.
Ruth knew livestock.
If Ruth was saying this was outside her expertise…
“I can tell you what I’d put on a farm,” Ruth said.
“I can tell you what’s hardy, what produces well, what breeds easy.
But if you’re asking which bloodlines we should make damn sure are still around afterward…”
She shook her head.
“That’s a different question.”
“Do you know somebody who can answer it?”
Ruth smiled.
Of course she did.
“Harper Ellis.”
“Who’s Harper Ellis?”
“Veterinary geneticist.”
Lena stared at her.
“You know a veterinary geneticist.”
“I’ve had a life.”
“What does she do?”
“Livestock genetics.
Breeding programs.
Conservation work.
Rare breeds.
Reproductive planning.
Works with some universities, breeders, conservation groups.”
Lena’s attention sharpened.
Rare breeds.
Conservation.
Genetics.
Exactly the kind of person who might look at Lena’s question very differently from a livestock dealer.
“Call her.”
Ruth snorted.
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“Can she come today?”
“Lena.”
“What?”
“People have jobs.”
“So does Marcus.
Look what happened to him.”
Ruth laughed.
Lena didn’t.
Ruth’s expression slowly changed.
“You really want me to call her.”
“Yes.”
“And tell her what?”
Lena looked over the animals.
Healthy.
Fed.
Breeding-capable.
A good foundation.
But if the System thought redundancy mattered enough to make it an objective, Lena wasn’t going to ignore it now that she had the ability to fix it.
“Tell her I need help building livestock populations that don’t depend on us being able to replace them later.”
Ruth nodded slowly.
“How much do you want me to tell her?”
“Enough to get her here.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the answer I’ve got.”
Ruth gave her a look.
“She’ll want to know why there’s suddenly a deadline.”
“Then tell her there is one.”
“And when she asks why?”
Lena hesitated.
“Tell her I’ll explain when she gets here.”
Ruth sighed.
“She’s going to love that.”
“Will you call her?”
Ruth pulled out her phone.
“You’re paying her.”
“Obviously.”
“Whatever she charges.”
“Obviously.”
“And if she tells you that you need another fifty animals-”
“Marcus!”
Ruth grabbed Lena’s arm before she could turn.
“No.”
Lena looked at her.
Ruth looked back.
“First we talk to Harper.”
“Fine.”
“Then we decide what we actually need.”
“Fine.”
“Then we figure out where we’re putting them.”
Lena sighed.
“Fine.”
Only then did Ruth release her.
Lena looked back at the unfinished objective.
INCOMPLETE
Not for long.