“You’re acting on feeling, not fact. If we do as you suggest, people will die,” Jeanne Wynn said. She stood from her seat and used one hand to slide a laptop across the long table, until it was in front of Mr. John Druck. She fixed the angle of the laptop, then stood back. “These are the travel times for the supply trucks, these—”

She leaned over and struck a key.

“—are the production rates for the farms and the expected yield. When we asked, the agriculture groups were conservative. We asked others and did an independent estimate. Our numbers are less conservative, but we’re still cutting it close. We don’t have enough to feed people, and we don’t have enough to shelter people.”

“The workers need protections,” Sierra Kiley said.

“We do,” Mr. Druck said. He leaned back in his seat.

“Absolutely,” Jeanne said. “Speaking for Mortari, we’re not against labor law. We have some notes on future proposals for you to take home, which you should like.”

“Should I? Will I love it?” Mr. Druck asked.

“Not love. But you’ll like it fine. Everything cascades, Mr. Druck. One thing leads to another. We like a lot of the things that fit into the labor protection and we need to be mindful of some of those cascading factors. Shorter working hours improves health, and health is something that is going to rear its head before we’re done dealing with war and winter.”

“The specter of war, not the reality. Don’t try to scare us, Mrs. Wynn,” Sierra Kiley said.

“It’s a reality,” Jeanne said. “But it’s not what I want to focus on right now. Refugees reaching us from Bet are coming with some severe health issues. The worker surveys you were complaining about last week are giving us information today. People are reporting severe fatigue. It looks like your workers are sick, Mr. Druck. They need to account for that, because it’s not going to get better, they haven’t been getting paid while they’re striking, and the weather is getting colder.”

“Of course your surveys are giving you convenient points of data,” Sierra Kiley said.

“What kind of sick are you talking about?” Mr. Druck asked.

Jeanne reached down to the keyboard and moved the cursor before striking a key.

Mr. Druck stared at the screen.

“Show me?” Sierra asked.

Mr. Druck slid the laptop closer to her.

“Is it the power plants?” Mr. Druck asked.

“No,” Jeanne said. “Believe it or not, most nuclear power plants are remarkably safe. Capes and countermeasures were ready to handle most of them the moment we knew what was going on with Gold Morning. There is a radiation problem in Bet and it’s not from that.”