Chapter 13: THE RULES
The meeting was called for sunset.
Twenty-three people crammed into the main hall. More than we'd ever had in one place at one time. The space felt alive—breathing, shifting, waiting.
I stood at the front with my notebook. The rules I'd written last night felt inadequate now. Nine simple statements that were supposed to govern people's lives. People who'd trusted me enough to be here.
Ruth stood to my left—security, officially now. Miles to my right—medical authority. Danny kept a small flame going in his palm for light. Sofia sat with eyes half-closed, monitoring the room's emotional state.
"Everyone here?" I asked.
Tom did a quick count. "Twenty-three. All accounted for."
Derek—I'd finally learned his name properly—sat in the back with his arms crossed. Watching. Always watching. The kids clustered together. Emma sat away from everyone, hugging her knees. The six newest arrivals looked confused about why they were here.
"Okay." I opened my notebook. "We've been operating on informal rules. Everyone contributes, don't hurt each other, that kind of thing. But we're twenty-three people now. We'll be more soon. We need something formal. Something we all agree to."
"Who says we agree?" Derek called out.
"That's why we're voting," I said. "I wrote a first draft. We'll discuss it. Amend it. Then vote. If it doesn't pass, we try again. No one's forcing anyone to accept anything."
That seemed to satisfy him. Barely.
I read the nine rules aloud. The room was silent except for Danny's fire crackling.
When I finished, I looked up. "Questions? Concerns? Changes?"
Silence for maybe ten seconds. Then everyone started talking at once.
"—violence needs stronger penalties—"
"—what about accidents, my power—"
"—who decides disputes—"
"—children shouldn't have to contribute the same—"
I held up my hand. Waited. They quieted.
"One at a time. Ruth, you first."
She stood. "Rule two. 'Violence prohibited.' Not strong enough. Should be: 'Violence results in exile.' Zero tolerance."
Murmurs of agreement. Also disagreement.
"What about self-defense?" one of the new arrivals asked—a woman I still didn't know well.
"Defending yourself isn't violence," Ruth said. "It's survival."
"But who decides the difference?" Derek challenged. "You?"
"The community," I interjected. "That's what rule six is for. Disputes go to leadership. Leadership can be challenged. We can vote on specific cases."
"So you're judge and jury," Derek said.
"Right now, yes. Until we establish a better system. Which we will, once we're stable."
He didn't like it but sat back.
Sofia spoke next, quiet but clear. "Rule four. 'Resources shared equally.' What about people who can't work? Medical issues, mental health, disabilities. They still eat the same?"
Good question. I'd written the rule thinking everyone was capable. But Sofia was right—some people couldn't contribute equally.
"Amendment," I said. "Resources shared according to need. Contribution expected according to ability. Not everyone can do the same work."
Sofia nodded. "Better."
The debate continued. Two hours. Every rule questioned, defended, amended. The kids wanted exemption from some work requirements—granted with age limits. The new arrivals wanted clarity on probation period—we set it at two weeks. Someone wanted the right to challenge leadership decisions—we added an appeals process.
I wrote frantically, tracking changes. My original nine rules became twelve. Then fifteen. We consolidated back to eleven.
Finally, we had something that looked right.
"Final version," I said. "Everyone understand what we're voting on?"
Nods around the room.
"Show of hands. Who supports these rules?"
Hands went up. I counted. Thirteen. Fourteen. Nineteen. Twenty-one.
Two people didn't raise their hands. Derek was one. Emma was the other—but she looked too scared to vote either way.
"Twenty-one in favor," I said. "Two abstentions. No opposition. The rules pass."
Applause. Not enthusiastic—people were tired and hungry and this had taken forever. But genuine.
Ruth had prepared a steel plate earlier. We'd scratched the final rules into it. Now we mounted it by the entrance using bolts James drove into the wall with his bare fists.
New Haven's first laws. Permanent. Public. Real.
People dispersed to their sleeping areas. The meeting was over. We'd done it—established governance through consensus.
I was collecting my notes when Derek approached.
"I still think you're crazy," he said.
I waited.
"But fair." He extended his hand. "You listened. Changed things when people had good points. That's—that's not what I expected."
I shook his hand. "What did you expect?"
"Dictator. Tyrant. Someone who wanted power and used desperate mutants to get it."
"I don't want power. I want this to work."
"Yeah." He looked at the mounted rules. "I'm starting to believe that."
He walked away. I stood there holding my notebook with fifteen pages of crossed-out rules and amendments and arguments.
Ruth found me still standing there.
"You let them change your rules," she said.
"They're our rules now. That's the point."
"Politicians." But she was almost smiling.
"I prefer 'community organizer.'"
"Same thing."
She headed toward her security rounds. I walked to the water purification system—my nightly check. Everything still worked. Fifty gallons a day. More than enough for twenty-three people.
Tomorrow we'd get the trash pickup from Hendricks. That would extend our food another three days. The gardens were growing—I could see sprouts. Three weeks, maybe less. We'd make it.
The System pulsed.
[GOVERNANCE MILESTONE: FORMAL RULES ESTABLISHED]
[COHESION +10]
[LOYALTY BOOST: AVERAGE +5 ACROSS POPULATION]
[NEW QUEST AVAILABLE: ESTABLISH COUNCIL SYSTEM]
[REWARD: 500 EXP, UNLOCK DEMOCRATIC FUNCTIONS]
A council. Eventually. But not yet. We needed more time to see who emerged as natural leaders beyond the obvious choices.
I checked the rules plate before heading to bed. Eleven rules. Forged through debate, agreed by vote, mounted for all to see.
Tomorrow we'd build more. Always more.
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