For the rest of the day, Layla met with several groups of people, learning every detail about how the entire department operated. Impressive didn’t even begin to describe how seamlessly this place ran. There were many different departments within The Wanderers’ enormous system, but feeding everyone was the most important.
“What do you think?” Tarin asked as Layla sat down to eat with her coworkers.
“I’m still in awe, not just of the massive size of your production but your safety protocols that keep people from finding you.”
Jeremy nodded. “It’s not perfect. Occasionally we lose entire fields either to enemy attacks or takeovers, but that’s why we have so many spread out all over the area. This particular site has our largest fields, which we get away with because it’s rare for anyone to come out this far from the city looking for trouble.”
Layla nodded. “Makes sense.”
Tarin swallowed his bite. “The reality is that people are growing crops all over the country, the world really. We all have to eat to stay alive. There’s nothing particular about a piece of farmland that would raise eyebrows, nothing to indicate the land isn’t owned and operated by fascists.”
“Tomorrow we’ll take you to see a few smaller ventures, so you’ll get a broader perspective,” Jeremy added.
“I’d like to see your soybean production at some point.” Soybeans were a staple in a world where meat was harder to come by.
Tarin smiled. “You’ll see some tomorrow.”
“Let’s get some sleep. We’ll leave early in the morning,” Jeremy said as they all stood.
Layla had been assigned a bunk in their guest quarters, and she was looking forward to getting a full night’s rest. Alone. After two weeks of being snuggled between two men every night, she hoped she could relax, spread out, and sleep hard.