After seeing Xio and Fors off, Lorne took out his ledger and began working through the backlog.
The integration of the newly acquired factories was still in its early, exploratory stages, leaving a considerable amount of work that required his personal approval as the owner.
A super-reliable cure for boredom.
"If I want to take things any further, I'll probably have to wait for the Captain to sell the first batch of arms."
"Fifteen workers in the Machining Workshop have contracted influenza-" A report from the Parts Processing Factory caught Lorne's attention.
"It looks like conditions in the East Borough are getting worse and worse..." He leaned back in his chair and murmured a sigh.
At the end of the report, the factory manager even discreetly suggested that, to "prevent the outbreak from spreading and affecting production" and "cut costs," they could consider simply firing the sick workers.
"No." He immediately rejected the proposal. He was not a capitalist of this era. He knew perfectly well that, for workers struggling on the edge of survival, losing their jobs was the equivalent of a death sentence.
"But they definitely can't keep working in their current condition. They might even infect the others." Lorne drummed his fingers unconsciously against the desk, caught in a dilemma.
"Have them go home and rest for now. They can come back to work once they recover. We can discreetly give them a small allowance."
Yet he felt no relief after making these arrangements. Workers falling ill was commonplace in this era. He had dealt with fifteen today, but tomorrow it might be fifty, or a hundred. This was no long-term solution.
"Is there some treatment that's both effective and inexpensive?" he murmured, sinking into thought.
Knock, knock, knock!
A series of crisp taps suddenly came from