Evening of June 4th, 2440
With one crisis averted, Matt knew the next was about to begin as a group of reporters descended upon him.
“Lord Marmaduke, Jeff Sykes, Wall Street Journal. Do you have a moment?”
“Sure, Jeff, ask away,” Matt said, snagging a glass of wine and a samosa from passing servers.
“Is the ‘Freehold’ designation a legal fiction, a diplomatic hedge, or a tax shelter?”
“Before the Collapse, it was just an LLC—like a million others. Run lean, pay less tax, dodge as much liability as possible.
We kept the name out of tradition.
But now? It’s a sovereign entity. Same land, same goals. The only real difference is—I’m the only shareholder.”
“Interesting. As the only shareholder, how do your people get redress and recourse?”
“Recourse? They can leave. But they usually don’t.”
“Why not?” Jeff asked, fascinated by what had to be the last old-school libertarian.
“The difference between a ruler and a CEO is that I can’t compel loyalty—I have to earn it. Every day. With food on the table, security on the roads, and a future their kids believe in.
No bureaucracy, no empty promises. Just performance.
If that’s not freedom, it’s at least more honest than pretending a vote every few years changes anything.”
“We’ve been hearing a lot of outsiders talk about the people inside not having any rights. I haven’t heard that from any of your people. In fact, I’ve talked to a lot who said just the opposite.”
“Now that’s where contract law comes in. Every resident, every citizen, has their rights and responsibilities spelled out in writing. Jeff, The Journal signed your visitor visa when you were confirmed as their press agent for this event.
You’ve been here about eight hours. If you’re still here in sixty-four more, you’ll be offered a residency contract.
The terms are non-negotiable. You’ll have a choice: sign—or leave.
If you choose to stay, we’ll work out a rental—with the price based on how useful you are to me. In essence, what you bring to the community determines how much it costs you to live here.”
“Interesting. Any idea what it would cost me in round figures? I think my readers might like to know,” Jeff asked.
“If you’re just a remote worker for The Journal and not bringing anything else to the community—$4,500 NewDollar for a studio apartment.”
“That’s pretty pricey. My wife and I pay $5,800 for a two-bedroom for us and our two boys.”
“It is pricey, and it’s meant to be that way. I don’t need the money, but TANSTAFL is a way of life here.
But now we’re talking about what you bring to the table as a family. What does your wife do?”
“She’s a nurse practitioner.”
“She’s someone the community could use. So we’re talking a house with three or four bedrooms, a decent-sized yard, a good benefits package—and you could keep working for The Journal.
That rent would be a single NewDollar a month, so long as she works where we need her to.
You don’t get a dollar rent and then run off to Columbia to work for someone else.
Commit, or don’t.
If your interest is real, call my office in the morning.”
“I’m certainly intrigued,” Jeff chuckled, knowing the next phone call he made would be a pitch to his wife.
“What about disputes—if someone believes their contract isn’t being honored? Do they have options?”
“They can take it to arbitration. Their choice: three citizens, a randomized jury, the Marmaduke Family Trust, or an outside arbiter from Columbia. The system isn’t perfect, but it’s built to be fast, fair, and local.”
“I’ve heard you say people can leave if they don’t like your rules.”
“Sure can. That might sound flippant to readers in one of the megalopolises, where baseline unemployment hovers around 15% and the safety net depends on overstretched mutual aid—but that’s not the Heartland.
If you don’t like my rules, there are other places you can go that are happy for new faces.
Here, we run year-round full employment. Not because we mandate it, but because we’ve built something people want to stay for: housing, food, safety, dignity.
The only people that really leave this area are young people looking for an easier way of life that the cities like to promote as their major benefit.
I think you know the truth of that myth.”
“Is this a rural versus urban mindset for you?”
“No. I just know the city is not an easier way to live.
You might have greater flexibility in job choices—and if that’s what you need to be happy, that’s fine.
I prefer a place with a lot fewer rules and a whole lot more choices about how I live the rest of my life.”
“That sounds attractive, but I hear you still have trouble recruiting outside labor.”
“If you want to move here and have no skills to speak of—or any desire to learn them—there’s not much for you here.
We offer incentives like dollar rents to bring in outside labor, especially for hard-to-fill roles.
And yet, the youth are still seduced by the promises of an exciting city life.”
“This has been a very informative conversation, Lord Marmaduke. Is there anything you want my readers to know?”
“Just tell them I prefer informality. Titles don’t do the work—people do.
Just call me Matt.”
