Carlos woke with the warm sun gently hitting his face and a flutter of anticipation in his stomach. Today was the last day of January, the day to see all the profit they had earned during the month. With the sale of steel, the earnings would be exorbitant. It was a shame the merchants couldn't meet the iron demand—because of this, the converter and its workers spent most days idle. Even so, just two batches had solved all the quilombo's economic problems. The profit from steel surpassed all the months of work with clothing.

  Heavy industry really gives a much higher return… But lowering the price of steel will make weapons cheaper for our enemies… Then again, by the time they can produce them, we'll already have cannons and repeating weapons.

  Arriving at the town hall, he poured himself some fragrant tea from one of the bottles and grabbed a still-warm loaf of bread, made in the quilombo with wheat cultivated thanks to Tassi's magic. He spread some sweet jam on it and went to his office as Chief of the mocambo. Inside, Aqua, the finance minister, was already waiting for him.

  "Good morning, Aqua. Bright and early today, huh?" he greeted, sitting down at the desk.

  She smiled, her eyes shining.

  "Of course! I'm also excited about this month's profits."

  Carlos settled his food in front of him and began eating while Aqua presented the report.

  "Basically, we made a profit of almost 25 million réis! As for expenses, just on iron imports, we reached 9 million—and we used almost all the quilombo's iron. With this, we'll be swimming in money, especially now that you included your expenses before sending the share to Zala… Or so I'd like to say, but I imagine you want to raise everyone's salary, don't you?"

  Carlos finished the bread, still chewing, and smiled.

  "You're finally understanding me!"

  "We'll increase salaries, benefits, and food expenses for the farmers by… let's see…"

  He pulled out a sheet and started scribbling, doing the math.

  "Let's multiply everything by twenty-five. The minimum wage goes to 5 thousand réis. This way, we'll finally be paying a decent amount, comparable to the big cities. Now no one can say we exploit the quilombo's population."

  He continued writing, concentrated.

  "Of course, the prices of everything will also rise. But this way, if anyone wants to leave here, they can save money easily. And furthermore: we'll start attracting immigrants. Soon, we'll need many more workers."

  "Nia is starting the milling machine and other machines to produce steam engines—that alone is a new factory. I'm also working on the repeating weapons and increasing the production of chemical products on an industrial scale. We'll need people in the weapons factories, ammunition factories… Not to mention the other projects that use the steam engines."

  Aqua listened attentively before commenting:

  "You really are an enemy of letting money sit idle."

  "Ha ha ha! Money saved is money not invested! But that's for later. Right now… let's build a decent road to the trade point with the Holy City. For that, we need 2,000 more workers. There are still a thousand idle people in the quilombo who might be interested. The rest are farmers or older folks, attached to the old way of life. We'll employ as many as possible, and I'll speak with Chief Maria to see if there's anyone in her mocambo who wants to work for me. After all, the road will pass nearby."

  Aqua smiled, picking up the pen.

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  "Sounds like a good plan…" she scribbled some numbers—"Considering the salary increases and import expenses, we'll have almost 1 million réis left. And, deducting expenses, we'll have 685,550 réis to send to Zala."

  Carlos gave a satisfied smile.

  "Now that's a fair trade. But don't forget to include a detailed sheet of all expenses, to avoid complaints."

  Aqua gathered the papers but made a worried face.

  "Just a warning: with the increase in profits and expenses, the work here has increased too much. I need more assistants who know how to read and do math."

  Carlos sighed.

  "Almost all the literate people are already working here, and the school will take a while to train people. I ask for a little patience—I'll think of some solution."

  Hearing this, Aqua also sighed and stood up.

  "Alright, Chief."

  She left, leaving Carlos alone.

  How to solve this… I wonder if more people would be willing to move to the quilombo? The economy in Brazil isn't good at this time—recent war, sugar prices falling… Specter has spies. If I ask him to spread the word that life in the quilombo is good and the base salary is five thousand réis… It might work. And that already serves as a filter—no racist or slave owner would come live in a quilombo.

  The next day, in the mocambo, Jorginho joined nearly a thousand people in the lines at the town hall to receive their salary. There were several lines: one for masons, another for industry, and a last one—where he was—for those who worked in "services." He didn't quite understand why selling ice cream was a service, but he knew that if he got in the wrong line, the staff would make him go to the end of the correct one.

  This time, however, he noticed something different: everyone ahead of him seemed euphoric when receiving their pay, much more than usual.

  Jorginho grew curious, until his turn came. The one paying was one of the town hall assistants.

  "I'm Jorginho."

  The assistant, awkwardly, scanned the list, murmuring:

  "Jorginho… Jorginho… Ah, found it! Eight thousand réis salary."

  Jorginho's eyes widened.

  "Eight thousand réis?! I think there's a mistake, sir."

  The assistant, used to the reaction, wasn't fazed.

  "Chief Carlos increased everyone's salary by twenty-five times! The minimum is now 5 thousand réis, plus a thousand for knowing how to read, plus a thousand for writing, and plus a thousand for using the ice and iron gems. Total, it came to 8 thousand!"

  Jorginho was flabbergasted. Trembling, he took the small bag of money another assistant handed him.

  This is more than I earned as a merchant in an entire month!

  He was about to leave when the assistant called him:

  "Wait, I forgot one detail! You have a daughter, right? To maintain this salary, she will have to go to the new school to learn to read and write. Classes start on the 5th!"

  Jorginho nodded.

  I already enrolled her. Being a merchant's daughter, it's good for her to follow my path… Although I'd rather have her helping at the ice cream parlor, but the Chief is against it.

  Thoughtful, he left slowly, but soon quickened his pace. He headed to the first open shop he saw, excited to buy new clothes for his wife.

  But as soon as he entered, he realized: everything had increased in price. And it wasn't just there—it was everywhere! Discouraged, he returned home and put the money away. His wife wasn't there—she had gotten a job at the town hall. His daughter was with a mocambo caregiver but would soon start school.

  After putting the money away, he went to the ice cream parlor so Nala could also receive her salary.

  Since it was payday, many people came to buy ice cream—and everyone was surprised by the new prices. The same thing happened at the restaurant. Even so, Jorginho had done the math in the little free time he had: even with the price hikes, in relative terms, they were still earning more.

  At the end of the tiring day, he arrived home and found his wife slumped over the table, exhausted.

  "Jorginhoooo! I can't take it anymore! The work at the town hall is enormous. I arrived at the worst time—I had to help pay everyone! And then people came to complain about the price increases, as if it were our fault! It's not even the Chief's fault; everything here was being sold below market price. Even with the increase, with our salary higher than in big cities, food and restaurants are still cheaper here."

  Jorginho approached and began gently massaging her shoulders.

  "Mmm… thank you…" she sighed, relaxing. "You know, it's been a while since we've really seen each other… How about we try for another child?"

  She turned around, touching his hand.

  But they were interrupted by the door opening: it was Carlinha, who had just arrived.