The Lonely Earth - Earth ISOT into Magitek fantasy

Chapter 16: Workmen

"We will require more crews, you know?" Bosser remarked to Macron, his gaze fixed on the expanding procession of vehicles that filled the ever-growing depot. Ammunition, equipment, and supplies piled up in the nearby storehouses, reflecting the rapid expansion of the nation's military capabilities. The French Senate and the National Assembly had taken swift action, voting to bolster the armed forces upon receiving the initial details of the looming threat facing France. Fortunately, the specter of military procurement, which had once appeared as a looming nightmare, seemed to be gradually receding.

"It takes a year to train a skilled crew to operate these tanks effectively," Bosser continued, fully aware of the complexities involved in molding novice recruits into proficient tank operators. He understood that the war factory's staggering output required an equally swift response on the personnel front.

Macron, standing beside Bosser, observed the impressive display of technological prowess with a mix of admiration and concern. His thoughts were deeply immersed in the challenges that lay ahead. 

"Forget the crews for a moment; have you seen the labyrinthine licensing hoops I had to navigate for this deal?" Macron's frustration was palpable as he spoke. "And the negotiations with the communists, you wouldn't believe the messages I've had to entertain." Dealing with the UCA and its allies had been an arduous task, and Macron felt like a newcomer in a foreign school, where the rules outside of Earth were entirely different, and he suspected that everyone was quietly mocking him behind his back.

The complexities of diplomacy with unfamiliar powers weighed on him heavily. The intricate dance of international negotiations often felt like threading a needle in the dark. The UCA's demands and protocols had proven to be a formidable challenge, and Macron couldn't shake the sensation that, somewhere, a Gearman overseeing the war factory's construction was figuratively giving him bunny ears in one of the photographs. It was a disconcerting feeling, one that gnawed at his sense of control and authority.

"They did offer us the most cost-effective assistance," Bosser interjected, seeking to balance the scales with practicality. The reality was that France needed this alliance to bolster its military capabilities in the face of looming threats.

"I have reservations about their frequent interactions with unions and radicals," Macron shared, his tone measured and reflective. "We can't afford internal divisions, especially with the looming threat of a major war. I suspect there might be hidden agendas, perhaps even talk of overthrowing the government. I'll arrange a meeting with Teraga and Verdacora soon; we need to understand their intentions." His words carried a sense of caution, rooted in the desire to maintain stability.

He paused briefly, choosing his words carefully. "And I won't tolerate the prospect of a future French Robespierre funded by Elves, Faeries, or..." Macron hesitated, his gaze shifting briefly. "Metal men," he added, though it was clear that the Gearmen weighed heavily on his mind.

"We are facing a massive economic transformation, Mister President," Jean-Pierre Bosser began, his voice laced with a deep concern that mirrored the gravity of the situation. He spoke candidly to President Macron, aware that the implications of this seeping technological revolution stretched far beyond the confines of a mere factory floor. "This technology will render more than just factory workers obsolete. Our businessmen, who once navigated their way in a pond, now find themselves as small fish in a vast ocean where sharks are lurking."

Macron absorbed these words with a heavy heart, his brow furrowing as he contemplated the profound changes that were sweeping across society. He understood that the world was hurtling towards an uncertain future, and he was keenly aware of his role in shaping it.

"What do you propose, then?" Macron asked, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "A universal basic income? But let's be realistic for a moment. Even if we assume that people won't become idle, can you imagine the uproar if I were to make any cuts to their handouts? Tens of millions of people with all the time in the world would be very, very angry. I'd be on the guillotine within weeks!" Macron's words were laden with the weight of political reality, and he met Bosser's gaze with unwavering resolve.