Monroe

Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty-One. United Nations, Part Two.

Bob rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

He had grown better when it came to dealing with people, but he still wasn't good at it, and he certainly didn't enjoy it.

"Not to be obstinant or deliberately obtuse, but who cares?" Bob asked.

He'd been 'invited' to attend a meeting of some United Nations council or another. It consisted of people from Australia, Great Britain, India, and the United States of America.

It had been convened immediately after Kellan's remarks and was unsurprisingly dedicated to the issue of repatriating reluctant citizens.

"We care, Mr. Whitman," Prime Minister Julwry replied coldly, "because they are our citizens, and we will not allow them to be abducted."

"Kellan said he'll set up meetings," Bob shrugged. "He keeps his word. It's part of that whole Dragon thing, somehow. You do remember that he's a Dragon, right? I mean, he popped over in his Dragon form and dropped the single largest and most powerful ritual I've ever heard of. He could have just as easily killed everyone instead of healing them."

"We are well aware of Mr. Garvades' demonstration of power, as well as its intention to intimidate us into submitting to his demands," Kiara Julwry said flatly.

Bob leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Why is this so hard for you people?" He asked, letting his exasperation slip into his voice. "He's a fucking Dragon. Give him what he wants, and he'll go away. Or, and I have to believe this has occurred to you," he shook his head, "make returning to your country more attractive than staying on Thayland. I can promise you that Earth still has a lot to offer those of us who grew up with modern conveniences such as the internet."

"The issue, at least for Great Britain," Prime Minister Turpin stepped in, "is multifold." He smiled warmly. "The Emperor did raise a rather valid point in regards to our tax code," he admitted. "Our entire legal code is being revised as we come to terms with the System, and I'm afraid the tax code is rather lower on the list when considered against drafting laws to address the abuses man may commit against his fellows with the powers granted by the System."

"Fixing that should be simple enough," Bob replied. "Implement a flat tax on Dungeon earnings, and get rid of the rest."

"Would that it were that simple," the Prime Minister replied. "The Emperor made my point for me, although I'm not sure if he realized it. Thayland consisted of only two nations, and they had infrequent contact with each other at best and no trade. Earth has hundreds of nations, all competing with each other in the global marketplace. Taxes must be carefully managed to ensure that internal industries don't suffer from unfair competition while still allowing our citizens the broadest choice for the best products. With no disrespect intended, Mr. Whitman, our economies are incredibly fragile, and they've suffered tremendous blows already. The instantaneous destruction of our currency was a blow that wiped out hundreds of years of accumulated wealth, while the incidental destruction of infrastructure has hindered the entire world's ability to restore the global market. Combined with the new defacto currency being fungible and obtainable only through personal risk, we've found every day to be a battle against total collapse."

Bob frowned. "I'm not qualified to tell you how to run your governments, but I can't help but think that you're holding on to complications that you don't need anymore. Regardless, I keep coming back around to ask why you care so deeply. You could just extend their visas or something. You don't have enough slots in the Dungeons as it is. Why fight for people to come back when you can't offer them the same opportunities to delve?"

He shook his head. "You have to know that a huge part of their reasons for staying has to be the ability to delve as frequently as they'd like?"

"I'm sure," the Prime Minister of India, Rajiv Singh, smiled gently. "With no disregard for the difficulties faced by other nations, India, more than any other, suffers from a terrible Dungeon to citizen ratio. We are all too well aware of the challenges faced by our more ambitious citizens. This is one of our primary reasons for calling these people home," he explained. "Doing so will allow others to take advantage of the Emperor's offer as well, assuming it still stands."

Bob blinked. "He hasn't said that it doesn't, has he?"

"No, he has not, yet we cannot but expect that if he retains a significant number of our citizens, that his need will lessen," Rajiv continued. "We desperately need to increase the level of our citizens, but we can't do so here on Earth without crippling our collection of crystals, which we, in turn, must have to feed our people. It's a rather vicious cycle and calls to mind the dark times in the nineteen sixties when our nation faced terrible food shortages."

President Garcia coughed politely, receiving a nod from Prime Minister Singh who leaned back into his seat.

"First, let me say that it's good to see you again," Garcia began with a smile. "Mexico, and myself specifically, owes you a debt of gratitude for your efforts to prepare us for the System integration that cannot be repaid. I know that you've been 'off-world,' as they say, for the majority of the time that has passed since the integration, and it's entirely possible that certain facets of life on Earth, post-system, have escaped your notice."

Bob nodded.

"Did you know that rather than suffering from monster waves during the spring and autumnal equinoxes as Thayland does, that Earth instead suffers from shorter, less intense waves thirteen times a year, coinciding with the lunar cycle? There are three or four that are worse than the rest, but every time the Moon reaches its perigee, we suffer from a wave," President Garcia explained.

"I knew that," Bob said with a frown.

"Were you aware that after the integration, there was roughly one-tenth of a person over level ten for each hamlet, village, town, and city in my country?" Garcia asked.

Bob shook his head as Garcia continued.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"We have been forced to consolidate our people, keeping them from their homes and, in many cases, their livelihoods," he explained. "While conventional small arms are sufficient to deal with the monsters typically appearing during a wave, we simply don't have the manpower to deploy adequate forces to defend our homes. We are desperate for our people to reach levels significant enough to make an impact on the waves. After the upheaval of the System's arrival and the actions our government took beforehand to eliminate the threat of the cartels, it was nothing for us to revise our taxes. Still, we have many of our citizens who have been delving on Thayland who are reluctant to return home," Garcia shook his head. "Please, understand that the people who went to Thayland are those most inclined to fight monsters. While we have others who are willing, we aren't able to provide a number of delves sufficient for them to advance quickly enough. We are exploring, as many nations are, but we've yet to find a world we can use to expand our delving capacity."

He leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "There will be a tipping point, eventually, but for now, we need our people back."

Bob wasn't sure if the presence of Taylor Adams, the President of the United States Chief of Staff, was unusual or not. He was leaning toward not, but they'd met before, and she'd offered Monroe the appropriate degree of kitty worship, so he smiled when she leaned forward.

"So," she began, "one of the things that no one is mentioning is just how bad things were when we came back in terms of our infrastructure. Fifty-foot tall monsters cause a lot of incidental damage, and it wasn't just to transmission lines: they wrecked our highway system badly enough that even all-terrain capable vehicles couldn't be relied upon to ensure successful transit. Despite having one of the most powerful military forces in the world, we found ourselves in the same situation as our friends to the south," she nodded to President Garcia. "We were able to get people on top of the Dungeons, but there are tens of millions of acres of farmland that isn't being utilized because we don't have the people to defend those most rural of communities, and," she sighed, "because the System has allowed us to feed ourselves without traditional farming methods, which is more than a bit of a trap, as we find ourselves expending vast quantities of crystals to feed the populace that wouldn't need to be used if we could just go back to farming as we did before."

"Discovering arrays has helped," Prime Minister Singh interjected, "but they enhance traditional farming methods rather than replace them. If you consider what you saw in Dharavi, you'll understand that there simply isn't space for arrays to make a measurable difference. We aren't asking for our people to return, never to be free to leave again," he said reassuringly. "In no small part, thanks to your generosity, we have dozens of vessels searching the multiverse for a secondary world. The United States, Russia, China, and the European Union have already found theirs, and we expect to succeed as well."

"Ok," Bob said slowly. "Those are some very convincing arguments, and if I was a citizen on Thayland being asked to return home, giving up my ability to progress and surrendering my chance of accumulating any wealth, I might be swayed. But," he continued, "I'm not the person you need to convince. You need to convince your citizens."

"You were designated by the then King of Greenwold as his primary contact between himself and the people of Earth," Taylor explained. "He doesn't accept envoys, refuses to allow embassies, and is, in general, effectively impossible to negotiate with by dint of the difficulty of communicating with him. You are, quite literally, our only avenue."

Bob opened his mouth to reply, then closed it.

"Quite," Prime Minister Turpin chuckled. "I'm afraid you've rather become a victim of your own success."

"I can bring him copies of any arguments you'd care to write out," Bob began slowly. "But ultimately, I think that Kellan is very much a libertarian. In a Dragon-y sort of way. From what I understand, he was reluctant to intervene in his subjects' affairs unless it was absolutely necessary. He let people make their own mistakes. Expeditions to found new towns weren't always successful, but they were never restricted." He shook his head. "He's not going to force anyone to leave Thayland, assuming they are productive and law abiding, nor do I believe that he will allow them to be removed by an external force."

Bob smiled grimly. "As he reminded you, he's a dragon, and the last person who tried to steal his people was a tier eleven multiple diety high priest, who was absolutely obliterated for trying. If you want your people to come home, you need to make it worth their while. Offer them future privileges, like free reign on delving on these new worlds you've mentioned, with significant tax breaks."

Kellan smiled languidly as he lounged on his throne. "I'm certain that some of those whose contracts are due to expire will be eager to return home, which will free up a number of slots," he said. "In addition, there are those who would rather stay but have reached a level of power where they feel comfortable," he continued. "They've proven that they can defend themselves and their loved ones during wave and tide and have settled down into a more relaxed lifestyle, delving a few hours a week to ensure they are comfortable while still stockpiling a number of crystals against the uncertainties of the future." He gestured negligently. "They are, of course, welcome to stay, but once their contracts have ended, so will their priority in regards to delving the Dungeons. Those contracts will become available as well."

"How will you determine the priority for who is accepted on those new contracts?" The delegate from Iraq asked.

"The individuals will have to meet the basic criteria," Kellan replied. "Willingness to delve, as per the terms of the contract, willingness to abide by the very simple and basic laws of my planet, and a fluency in either Thayland, or more likely, English."

The delegate frowned. "The restriction of either a truly alien language or English is heavily discriminatory," he said.

Kellan shrugged. "If Bob had been from China, it would be Mandarin. There were so few of us in Greenwold, when compared to your world, that it made no sense to have your people learn our language, so instead, we learned Bob's. English, being one of the major languages on Earth, was a happy coincidence." He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "We could," he said slowly, "amend the contracts to allow for the person accepting them to accept a one hundred mana crystal debt to have English transferred to their minds by way of a psionic ritual," he mused. "That would allow people who never had cause to pick up English to apply for the contracts without prejudice." He looked at the delegate from Iraq. "Would that suffice?"

"Yes, your Majesty," the delegate bowed from the waist, "I believe it would. Iraq has two million souls clamoring for the opportunity to travel to Thayland, and I cannot imagine that any of them would sacrifice that chance over a few crystals spent learning to a speak a language that will only benefit them over the course of their lives."

Kellan nodded as the delegate departed.

He fully intended to collect as many useful people as possible from Earth before they found other empty worlds to colonize. He had been told that they had currently found four such worlds, and were diligently searching for others, with nations who lacked the population to fully subjugate another world banding together with others, agreeing to divide whatever world they found into areas respective to each participant's population.

Kellan didn't begrudge them their ability to colonize other worlds. His responsibility was Thayland, and he was pleased that he'd found the opportunity to gather so many new people into his hoard. He'd already begun to bridge the technological gap between his world and Earth and fully expected that in a few short centuries Thayland would be trading with Earth and its colonies as an equal, with specialty crafts being the primary product. Well, he also expected a healthy number of young people to travel between those known worlds, seeking out new experiences. It was, he thought with a smile, a bright future.

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