Ruthless: Path of Conquest

In addition to minor familial drama, the morning brought with it its share of neighbor troubles.

When James reached the foot of the stairs, he recognized one of those he’d sheltered with the building he threw up the previous day. An older man with gray hair and a close-cropped beard.

This was the one who was trying to bring up rent for some reason, James remembered. And now that he saw him again, there was some other memory stirring. Unfortunately, it was dim, from sometime before the period when James began to remember almost everything that happened to him in crisp detail. Before the System.

“I’m here to discuss rent,” the man said, speaking hotly. “You said you would talk to people tomorrow. Well, now it’s tomorrow. You aren’t getting out of this, you hear?”

Wow. The way you’re talking to me, it just reminds me that I haven’t killed anyone or anything in front of any of these people. It was impossible for James to imagine anyone from the Rodriguez camp or Damien Rousseau’s faction speaking to him so rudely. It was a little amusing.

“Sir, would you like to go someplace private to discuss whatever your problem is?” James asked in a calm, measured tone of voice. What he thought of sometimes as his customer service voice, for use both when he was serving customers and when he was talking to customer service.

There were several people walking around outside, though not many. It was still early in the day. James guessed the few people who were outside were thinking about feeding their loved ones. Not everyone who had completed Orientation would have acquired the same abundance of resources that James enjoyed.

James didn’t want to have whatever this conversation was going to be in front of other people. He believed you should generally praise people in public and criticize them in private.

“No. No, I would not!” the old man said. “What I have to discuss concerns them too.”

James noticed a few ears perk up, as the people in the vicinity began to pay attention.

So, you have chosen the public humiliation route, James thought. You’re really leaving me no choice.

“Alright then,” he said lightly. “Have it your way. What’s your name?”

The man appeared affronted that James didn’t know who he was. “I’m John Carraway. The landlord. The person to whom you and all the other people living here were paying their rent. I want to know what you’re going to do about this building you’ve erected on my land.” He gestured at the structure James had put up.

“Oh, you used to own this land?” James asked. He thought he understood where this man was going. He wanted to parlay his old land ownership claim into some form of power or influence or even wealth in the new world. It was understandable, but he had no interest in being hamstrung. He’d have to cut this man off before he could get started.

“What do you mean ‘used to’?” Carraway asked, raising his voice. “I still—”

“No, you don’t.” James cut him off.

“I still have the deed!” The old man’s tone was outraged.

“I don’t care,” James said with an almost careless ease. He made sure to project his voice so that everyone eavesdropping could hear him clearly. “I don’t acknowledge your claim. You cannot defend it. There is no court to which you can appeal. Even when we do eventually create a court system, we do not live under the same system of laws under which you established your claim. This land is mine now, by right of conquest.”

“What?!”

“Sir,” James said, sighing slightly. “I sympathize with you. You worked hard all your life to get a piece of land that was all your own. You improved it and built apartments on it, all so you could have a nest egg to live off of. Right?”

“That’s right!”

“Well, sadly, the apartments you built are all gone. And based on the data I’ve gathered, the planet we’re on is actually significantly larger than Earth used to be. There is no piece of land that can be reliably identified as your land. Where we are now is my land. I own it.” He raised a hand to cut off the man, who was opening his mouth to interrupt. “I was a lawyer before this time, sir. There are several possible bases to claim property ownership. It’s especially interesting, as right now, when there is new land that never existed before. In those cases, under Locke’s theory of property rights, the original owner of property is the person who first mixes his labor with it. That was me.” He gestured at the building behind them.

“The evidence is right behind me. I mixed my labor with this land. I have improved it. Unfortunately, whatever existed in the time before me has disappeared. Another basis for property ownership also favors me. I own this land by right of conquest. I have occupied it and can defend it against all comers.” He raised his voice higher, to make it obvious that he wanted to be overheard. “If there’s anyone who believes they can beat me in a fight and take this land from me, they’re welcome to try. Whoever beats me, you’re the new owner.”

The people who were gathered outside looked at each other like they were wondering if this was some sort of strange trap. They’d experienced enough of those in Orientation.

“It’s not a trick,” James said. “One time offer only. Anyone and everyone who wants to try and take me on right now, you can attempt it, and I promise I won’t kill you for trying. I just want all of you to be satisfied that it’s impossible for you. I am the owner of this land now, and you are all my tenants. For the moment, I have no intention of charging you rent—”

James stopped mid-sentence. A bold young man with bulging muscles had charged forward, armed with a thick bone club that looked like a piece of System-created equipment. He looked intent on taking James up on his proposal. His expression was intense. Clearly prepared for violence.

As soon as he was within range to strike, James made a move that no one else could see. He lunged forward and struck his would-be attacker with a backhanded slap to the face. The man recoiled, stumbled backward, collapsed, and then lay unmoving on the ground.

Then James sat back down. Everyone stared at the unconscious man.

“He’s still alive,” James said after a moment. “Don’t worry. I’m a man of my word. In any case, I can pledge that everyone who accepts me as the leader of this new land will be safe from harm while they stay here.” He gave a very bare-bones explanation of the power of the Fisher King. It hadn’t been his intention when he came downstairs to give a real speech, and there weren’t enough people outside to justify it anyway. But he hoped they would spread the word about what he could do—the safety that he could offer with his powers. “I know everything that enters or exits my territory,” he finished. “And monsters will be scared off by my aura overhanging this land.”

The former had only become true today, when James pumped out his second infusion of Mana with Dominion; it seemed his Fisher King powers took a lot of energy to become effective. And the latter wasn’t a guarantee, but it was close enough to one. It would be even truer once the wolf pack arrived to patrol the borders.

“So, what, we’ll be paying you rent, is that it?” the former landlord asked. He sounded despondent but resigned.

“No,” James said. “At some point in the future, we may need to institute taxes, but I’ll try not to let things come to that. For now, I’d like to see us all try to serve the community according to our strengths. The System has given us a currency with System credits. We can buy supplies we need with that, but mostly, I’d like to see us producing a civilization with the abilities we have. This isn’t the last phase of your life that you were expecting. It’s something more dynamic than that. You’re not going to fade away into old age. You’re going to be a part of the generation that rebuilds civilization after we got wiped out. Get excited!”

There were some murmurs of support from the people outside. These people needed more than this from him, James knew. They had suffered great losses in recent weeks. Many of them would have seen family members and friends die in Orientation. It would take time for them to form a community. And strong leadership would be key. But if he was going to make speeches, he wanted to do it when as many people as possible were present. Not waste it on a handful.

Great public speakers draw energy from crowds. And James decided at this moment that he wanted a crowd in front of him, to hear him speaking. He wanted that to help him kickstart the foundation of his new country and the reconstruction of the elements they would want to keep from the old.

“Three days,” James said, before the people could disperse. “I’m going to take the next two days to make sure all of us can meet our basic survival needs. Food, water, adequate shelter, plumbing. Then on the third day, we’ll have an assembly to address our plans for the future. Anyone who thinks they can help with any of the survival stuff should come talk to me directly. And you all should pass on what I’ve said to your friends and family members, or any neighbor you run into.”

People nodded. About half of them started to walk away, while three stayed back, huddling together in a discussion among themselves about what James had said. He didn’t listen in too closely, because he was still dealing with the former landlord.

“What am I supposed to do?” Carraway whined quietly, his voice low. “This place was my whole retirement plan.”

James looked at him with a degree of sympathy and tried to be kind in his response. “Look, no one’s retirements are going to be working out as they had planned,” he said. “You remember when Social Security started running low a decade ago?”

The old man nodded.

“Well, think about it,” James said. “The Internet is still down for everyone on Earth as far as we know. Cell towers down, buildings demolished, monsters roaming the land. Was that money in people’s bank accounts really going to do any good now? Or the land that they owned?”

“Well, no.”

“So you’re just in the same boat as everyone else now,” James said.

“It’s just so unfair,” Carraway said in a defeated tone.

“It is,” James agreed. “People who worked hard should be rewarded for it. But fairness is a human concept. We can’t expect this System that’s running things now to follow our concept of fairness. Stick with me, though. I’ll do my best to help you find the place where you fit in. I’ve often felt that our society dooms people to premature death by creating this idea of retirement. Hard-working people with years of wisdom and experience suddenly turning to inactivity. Lying around on a beach or something and living off of their savings. That’s not exactly healthy. Maybe it will ultimately benefit you that the old world ended. You might find a new source of purpose and energy in this new world. It’s a primitive place, with no electricity, but there’s also endless opportunity. A blank slate.”

James wasn’t sure he entirely believed what he was saying about retirement, but he’d heard it before and thought it was plausible enough. Most importantly, he felt sure that it was what Carraway needed to hear. And the rest of his little pep talk was rehearsal for the larger speech he was planning to give his community in three days time.

Carraway seemed to take some solace in it. “I suppose you might be right,” he said. The hard lines in his face relaxed a little. “I’ll think about ways I can be of use in this new environment. Maybe it’s like that Billy Joel song, ‘Vienna.’ You know it?”

“Um, vaguely,” James said, shrugging. “Actually, probably not. I think I know, maybe, one song by him.”

The old man shook his head. “The younger generation have no taste in music.”

I’m not that young, James thought. But Carraway was walking away, and he seemed to have a little more energy about him now. James decided not to spoil the man’s improved mood by indirectly calling him old.

“Hey, can we talk to you for just a minute?” James turned his head. One of the people from the huddled group of men was addressing him. He was wearing camouflage pants and a plain white t-shirt, and his dirty blonde hair was cut in a mullet. The two men on either side of him were dressed more apocalypse-appropriate, in basic System gear. James instantly knew that they were a Heavy Warrior and a Light Warrior respectively. The former was an East Asian man, with short hair and a small mustache, and the other man was Caucasian, with his dark hair in a ponytail.

“Sure, happy to talk,” James said. “What are your names?”

“I’m Sam Masterson. These are my buddies Dave Matsumoto and Paul Mann.” James immediately noted that they must have all been in Orientation together. “We were wondering if we might help with the survival stuff.”

James smiled. They’re already treating me as the go-to guy. No objections so far. Excellent. “Happy to have your help. I’m James Robard. What exactly were you thinking?”

“We thought maybe we could all go hunting,” Sam said, returning James’s smile.