Time flowed steadily as the super-large starch factory neared completion and entered its pre-production phase.
As a colossal facility integrating the production lines of hundreds of individual starch plants, it was capable of producing over 200 million tons of starch daily.
This was just barely enough to satisfy the basic rations of the 50 billion people living on the planet Badab.
Naturally, a factory of this scale required an immense influx of raw materials.
Carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen sources all required specialized planning; otherwise, the voracious appetite of this massive industrial beast could never be sated.
Consequently, the 200 million laborers were not disbanded.
Instead, with the addition of a second wave of four million Auxilia for support, recruitment was expanded with the goal of increasing the workforce to two billion to continue the construction of various large-scale engineering projects.
After roughly six months of observation, Huron discovered that the system’s civilian factories operated by covertly coordinating the thoughts and actions of everyone involved to maximize efficiency, rather than conjuring resources out of thin air.
Building on this, he simultaneously launched three other major projects: a super-sized water purification and recycling system, an integrated air circulation and purification system, and a large-scale plasma reactor.
He assigned three civilian factories to each project to accelerate progress and minimize industrial accidents.
Shortly after these three projects commenced, the third wave of eight million Auxilia completed their training and were ready for deployment.
With sufficient manpower and the starch factory—along with 30 billion units of vitamin supplements—ready to win over the hearts of the people, Huron intended to further tighten his control over the Underhive.
The first step was a comprehensive census.
While the Underhive was not as utterly lawless as the Sump, the nobility had little actual control over it, let alone the capacity to conduct a detailed population count.
The population of the entire Paratos Hive, and even the planet Badab as a whole, was largely based on estimates.
The actual numbers were likely much higher—a common state of affairs within the Imperium of Man.
Paratos officially held 20 billion people, and since the Underhive housed the vast majority of them, a conservative estimate placed the Underhive population at over 16 billion.
In reality, it might even exceed 20 billion.
Population was the foundation of the future.
Within the Badab system alone, there were several habitable planets with extremely low levels of development, housing only a few hundred million people each.
To Huron, this was an immense waste of potential.
Aside from clarifying population figures, the census served to clearly define the boundaries of the Sump, allowing for the formulation of subsequent containment and cleanup plans.
As for how to distinguish between the Underhive and the Sump…
Any area that refused to cooperate with the census orders, or actively obstructed them, would naturally be designated as part of the Sump.
With the order issued, millions of Auxilia descended into the Underhive.
Aided by local gangs, they began registering the Underhive residents hidden in every dark corner.
To increase credibility and prevent common diseases from attracting the attention of Nurgle’s daemons, Huron ordered the distribution of one unit of vitamins and five kilograms of starch to every person, provided they appeared in person for registration.
With the precedent set by six months of starch factory construction—and especially with those 200 million increasingly robust, healthy-looking laborers boasting about their good fortune every day—a significant portion of the Underhive population chose to trust the authorities and participated eagerly.
However, a large segment still resisted registration.
They found the idea of “free food from the sky” impossible to believe, while others refused for a myriad of personal reasons.
Even if these holdouts accounted for only one percent of the population, that still meant hundreds of millions of people.
But for the current Huron, there was plenty of manpower to handle these difficult cases.
If they still refused to register, they would be treated as Sump-dwellers and dealt with under future martial law.
Underhive, Carter District.
A team of registrars, led by a local gang leader, arrived at a sealed, abandoned conduit.
“My lord, this should be the last household,” the gang leader said, stepping up to the conduit wall and knocking.
He shouted as he hammered on the metal, “Liam, open up!
The authorities are looking for you!”
A gap opened in the barricade of weathered ceramite.
A striking, handsome face appeared in the opening.
The man looked around, noticing the dignified-looking registrars standing behind the gang leader.
His eyes lit up, and he hurriedly pulled back the ceramite slab.
“My lord, are you here for a visit?
I guarantee…”
“No,” the lead registrar interrupted, though he had been momentarily taken aback by the man’s beauty.
“We are here for the population census of the Underhive.
Everyone behind you must be registered as well.”
As a registrar who had received three doses of gene-enhancement stims, his hearing was sharp enough to detect subtle movements in the passage behind Liam.
It sounded like…
children?
Liam’s face stiffened for a moment before he regained his soft, seductive expression.
“My lord, you must be joking.
It’s just me here.
This gentleman can testify to that.”
He looked toward the gang leader.
The gang leader turned pale.
“Don’t—don’t call me ‘gentleman.’ But my lord, it’s true, there’s only Liam here.
Uh, me and the other ‘customers’ can swear to it.
It’s been years, and no one else has ever been seen here.”
The registrar raised an eyebrow.
Originally, he had assumed this man was a pimp controlling a stable of girls, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case.
“This is a joint order from the Emperor’s Angels and the Planetary Governor,” the registrar said, pulling out a data-slate and opening the registration form.
“No one may refuse.
Call them all out for registration, one by one.
Everyone who registers receives five kilograms of starch and one vitamin tablet.”
“Otherwise, the people coming next time won’t be as easy to talk to as we are.”
“My lord, I…” As an Underhive resident, Liam had heard plenty of horror stories about the Highspire nobility.
This was exactly why he didn’t want the children to come out; God-Emperor knew how these people would treat them.
“Ahem,” the gang leader interjected.
“Liam, these lords are servants of the Angels.
They serve the Angels themselves; they can be trusted.
You know the workers who went to build the starch factory recently?”
Liam nodded.
Those workers had been frequenting his business lately, spending more lavishly than ever before.
They all looked healthy and possessed a certain unidentifiable spirit.
“Those people were just ordinary Underhive scum.
You know what they looked like before,” the gang leader said, smacking his lips.
“The Angel truly is giving out starch and vitamins.”
Liam remained silent for a moment before calling into the passage, “Ramsey, bring everyone out.”
The sound of rustling came from the dark tunnel.
Soon, a pale older boy led a group of equally pale children out of the darkness.
“Big brother, who are they?” Ramsey, the leader of the children, asked warily.
One of his arms was missing, and he gripped a crude, homemade cleaver in his remaining hand.
“It’s alright.
They’re here to give out food.
Everyone, go and register.
Answer whatever they ask,” Liam said with a reassuring smile.
“Name, age, can you read or write…” Ramsey led the children as they answered the registrars’ questions.
The lead registrar turned his attention back to Liam.
“Also, a word of warning.
In a year at most, the new Badab Code will be announced.
The work you do now will fall under the ‘strict crackdown’ category.
Find another line of work as soon as possible.
The new Code won’t prosecute past actions for your trade.”
Liam’s expression shifted.
“My lord, I…
what else could I do?”
“Work,” the registrar said matter-of-factly.
“The entire Hive is undergoing massive construction, and it will soon expand to the whole planet.
We need people everywhere.
Can you write?
Can you do math?”
“I…
a little,” Liam answered instinctively, then gave a bitter smile.
“My lord, my body…
I can’t carry heavy loads.”
“If you can’t be a porter, do something else.” The registrar pulled a flyer from his pack.
“If you can read, go to the registrar training sessions, or do clerical work at a construction site.”
“If you perform well, you might even be selected for the Chapter Auxilia.
Then you won’t need this trade to support these kids.
For now, the Chapter can take these children in—food, housing, and education provided.”
The registrar felt no prejudice toward Liam.
When he had been an Underhider himself, he had frequented such establishments.
In the Underhive, this was considered a “moral” form of entertainment, certainly better than huffing chemicals or murdering neighbors.
Furthermore, the fact that this man was supporting such a large group of children commanded a level of respect the registrar himself wasn’t sure he could match.
Currently, the Auxilia placed a high value on such character traits.
As long as this man didn’t lose his mind later, he would eventually become a member of the Auxilia.
After the registration was complete, the registrar gave Liam a final piece of advice before leaving: “Think about it.
In five days, go to the Carter Gang’s headquarters to collect the food.
We’ve already converted that place into a plaza.”
A little girl hugged Liam’s leg, drooling slightly.
“Brother Liam, that man said they’d give us food.
Is it true?”
Liam forced a smile.
“It’s true.
In a few more days, we’ll have it.”
No one questioned how someone as delicate and lovely as Liam managed to protect himself and all these children in the brutal Underhive.
It was because he was a Theta-grade psyker.
Even without actively manifesting his powers, he could make others more focused, distract them from other thoughts, and instill a sense of physical and mental well-being.
The registration team, influenced by this subtle aura, had simply overlooked the anomaly.