That wholly bizarre sight caused every beast near the road to shrink away, hold their breath, and wait patiently for the procession to pass. In nearby homes, sensitive infants began to wail at the noise the group was making, but assuming it to be regular nighttime crying, their parents failed to check outside.
The caravan arrived at the monastery in northeastern Berlin before sunrise. From there, Lila handled things on her own. She had already spoken with the monks, who were early risers, agreeing to pay monthly for the storehouse and telling them she would share a little of the food with them if they wanted. Two monsters stayed behind to guard the supplies—a fact that Lila kept from the monks. If any members of the monastery gave in to temptation and tried to take some of the food, they would meet with a nasty surprise and be scared off.
The Count had taught Lila that prayers and wards against evil spirits didn’t work on monsters. She figured the supplies should be fine with the measures she’d put in place, but when Diana sent over her own people to guard the storehouse, their security would be fully complete.
Lila drew a diagram on a door for easy travel to the storehouse. Now she and the Count could get here instantly from Xandra’s inn.
With everything in place at the storehouse, Lila went to the Eiffel Tower to tell Diana how to access the food and that if anything ever felt off, to contact her immediately by carrier pigeon. They had a bird they’d trained to fly directly to Xandra’s inn.
Lila didn’t say anything about Jörg. She’d planned to explain that he was off on another job if Diana asked, but she didn’t. Her immense joy at having secured food likely caused her to forget about everything else.
Lila also asked the souls around the Eiffel Tower if anyone wanted to work on a farm, either temporarily or more long-term. They would look after livestock during the winter and plow and sow seeds in the fields during the spring. She proposed the idea that instead of relying on prisoner labor, they could work the fields themselves to increase crop yields that little bit more.
All of them had their own day jobs, so the souls showed some reluctance, but Lila explained that they could use the time they spent chatting here.
“We’ve created a way to transfer the time we spend dreaming to time in the real world. If you work in your dreams, the fields will be plowed and livestock raised in real life.”
“What in the world? That sounds like sorcery.”
“That’s one way to think about it. But anything looks like magic if you don’t know how it works. You’ll still get tired like normal from working in your dreams, but everyone will be able to share the rewards.”
Hanja squealed excitedly. “Count me in! It sounds like fun. Where are the fields?”
“Romania.”
The land had belonged to the Count many years ago. He had long since transferred the rights to someone else, but had recently leased a portion of the arable land to grow food, intending to have simulacrums work the same fields his servants once had. The Count had said that good money could be made these days by selling food, so he wanted to give it a go. He’d never mentioned doing it to help Lila or anyone else, but that was just the way he did things.
The Count needed people to operate the simulacrums. He had suggested that using the people of the Eiffel Tower would be easiest, so Lila has raised this idea to everyone. She didn’t think any explanation would help them understand the complicated way it worked, so she’d simply described it as everyone working in their dreams.
“I’ll do it, too,” Bernadette said. “I’m going to quit the brothel soon, so I’ll have plenty of time.”
“Thank you so much!”
“Me, too.” Diana raised a hand. “I want there to be as much food as possible. I’ll do anything that needs doing.”
Volunteers called out one after the next. These women knew the ration system wasn’t working, so they offered to help so that people might have even the slightest bit more to eat.
Within the span of a few minutes, everyone there had pledged to help Lila in some way.
The land the Count had rented in Romania was a wide basin between two low hills. The rolling expanse had a river winding through it, which provided an abundance of water, and the rough ridges of the Carpathian Mountains towered far off on the horizon. Beech groves covered the foothills, attesting to the ideal growing conditions. There were no homes nearby, just a few farmhouses where the simulacrums that cultivated the fields lived, their burgundy-and-orange roofs contrasting with the surrounding greenery to draw the eye.
It should have been the middle of winter, but spring covered the land. Presumably because it was all a dream.
The women from the Eiffel Tower were captivated by the view before them.
“We’re really allowed to use this land?”
“And plough the fields?”
“No one’s going to say anything if we grow wheat and vegetables here?”
Color filled their faces, and their hearts leaped at this new responsibility. They might not understand the magic at work here, but the women knew that growing crops, harvesting them, eating what they wanted, and selling whatever they had left as they saw fit were luxuries that were almost unheard of in wartime.
There was already some harvested produce in the storehouse, though it wasn’t much, and fully-grown crops in one part of the field. Harvesting that would be their first job.
The Count walked up beside Lila, and together they looked out across the land.
“You could call this firma de aur—golden farmland. In the dream world, it will always be sometime between spring and fall here to make their work easier. However, time will still follow that of the real world to ensure that harvests align with the seasons. Cherries won’t grow in the middle of winter, for example. You’ll have to watch out for that.”
“This is incredible!”
“Depending on how it’s used, it has the potential to become even more incredible. Though, well, try using it as a normal farm first.”
“What about livestock?”
“You can raise them here. Would you like me to get you some?”
“Yes, please.”
Some of the farming simulacrums had already appeared in a corner of the field. Their facial features and builds could pass for either male or female. They were all being used by women, but it seemed simulacrums adopted gender-neutral forms.
The Count looked over toward them and called out to a simulacrum walking nearby. “Oh, Camille. You came, too?”
A smile rose on the simulacrum’s well-defined face. It was an artificial expression, but it wasn’t sarcastic or off-putting. “I had time.”
“You don’t need to work the fields here. Why not do some sculpting, since you can’t do it in the hospital?”
“Kneading clay, sowing seeds; it’s all same to me. Right now, farming seems more interesting.”
Camille fixed her gaze on Lila. “You’re quite capable, aren’t you? Though I still think you’re a bit of a strange child.”
“I appreciate that,” the young girl replied.
“The hospital is tedious, so I’m delighted you made a place like this. I’m getting on in years out in the real world. I’m over fifty, already an old woman. But I can still keep working happily here. I’ll remember this for a long time. Thank you.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” Lila said. “You all came to help when I needed it.”
With a casual wave, Camille told Lila she’d see her later, then headed toward the fields.
Lila looked up at the Count. “All we want to be satisfied is decent bread and a place to sleep. Why is it so hard to make such a simple wish come true in the real world?”
“Who knows?” the Count replied. “Humans always seem to have a particularly hard time obtaining the things that matter most to them.”
“We’re going to change that. No matter how long it takes,” Lila declared, rolling up the sleeves of her farmer’s clothes and tying her hair behind her head. “Even if it takes centuries, we’re going to build a world where no one is ever told they don’t exist, that they shouldn’t think, or that they’ll always be under the thumb of someone.”