“What about you, Rittan?” August asked. “Any suggestions?”

“Food and water must remain free for all people who join our community,” Rittan said, nodding.

That garnered a bit of attention and some confusion as well. Given that only Rittan had been present for that specific conversation and that the only person present who had any experience with a society that made people pay for good, it was clear enough who the rule was addressing.

“I have no problem with that,” August admitted. “Keep in mind that if we get low on food at some point in the future, we may have to ration it as a way to keep us all from starving.”

“I understand completely,” Rittan said, nodding. “August, do you have any other suggestions?”

“That’s all I can think of that’s immediately useful for us,” August said, “If anyone has an idea in the future, just bring it up, and we can vote on it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Boko said.

“Then let’s get started,” Haiko said, smiling. “I will list each of the rules we’ve suggested, so please raise your hands if you agree with it or keep them lowered if you do not. If there are any contentions, we will address them at the end of the vote.”

Haiko went through each of the suggestions one after another, and each of them cast a vote. It seemed almost a formality, though, because they were all in agreement over all of them, the previous discussion having ironed out most of the concerns. Once they’d finished the last of them, Haiko cleared her throat.

“No killing, no harming, no imprisonment, no rape or sexual assault, no stealing or breaking of personal belongings, no invading a person’s private space,” Haiko said, one after another. “No forcing anyone to do anything they don’t choose to do, no cost for food or water—those are the rules we have agreed to bind ourselves to.”

As far as rules went, they were pretty straightforward, and while they weren’t exhaustive, they should cover most of the things that could come up. Anything further than that, they could always bring to another vote.

“We should probably write them down somewhere, so all new arrivals can see them,” Boko said, leaning back onto his hands. “Can’t be that hard to cut up some planks and carve them into a sign, right?”

“That’s a good idea,” August said, nodding. “Something to look into tomorrow.”

“I’m more interested in the punishment,” Kalter said, eyeing them. “What happens when someone breaks the rules? Are we going to start killing our own?”

“Outside of self-defence, killing anyone is over the line,” August said, shaking his head. “We should be able to do better than execute people.”

“I suppose that would depend entirely upon the circumstances and the level of harm caused,” Haiko murmured, holding her chin. “If execution is off the table completely, then that leaves us with temporary exile, permanent exile or inflicting some other kind of unpleasant punishment upon them.”

“We’re on an island filled with monsters, which means permanent exile will directly result in death,” Rittan said, hesitant. “It’s execution with more steps.”

“Knowingly making a choice to kill, torture or rape another person should be enough to have you excised from the community, at least,” Boko said, speaking up. “If you are aware of the rules, you agree to the rules, and then you deliberately break the rules anyway—you should be willing to accept the punishment.”

“I believe Boko’s reasoning is correct,” Haiko admitted, “If you are aware of the consequences of your actions, and you still make a choice to break the rule, you should be accepting of what comes after.”

“What if the rules are unjust?” Kalter said, narrowing her eyes. “What if they’re unfairly applied?”

“You wouldn’t have voted for the rules if you thought they were unjust,” Haiko asked, voice gentle. “Are you worried they might become unjust in time?”

Kalter didn’t say anything, but it was clear enough that she was concerned. August couldn’t exactly blame her, considering she’d spent her life trying to break free of unjust rules that had been unfairly applied.

“If at any point we want to revisit the rules we’ve established, we should have everyone take another vote again,” August said, speaking up. “That way, we can make sure they accurately reflect our community as a whole, rather than just the five of us. If anyone thinks the rules are being applied unfairly, we can always take a vote on that as well.”

“That—fine,” Kalter said, at least partly appeased. “What if breaking the rules is unintentional? Breaking someone’s belongings by mistake, accidentally hurting someone or walking into a private area without knowing?”

August glanced over at her at the inclusion of accidentally hurting someone and wondered if she’d attempted to bury it amongst the other examples on purpose or if she simply hadn’t recognized her own personal stake there.

“Accidents should be treated differently because they don’t carry the intent to do harm,” August said, lifting his head. “Without that intent, then it should be within our power to forgive each other for their mistakes.”

“Of course, if someone develops a history of repeating those same accidents, makes a false claim or attempts to conceal their intention to harm for personal gain,” Haiko said, speaking up again. “Then we should definitely look into the situation further, but I suppose that much is obvious to all of us.”

“How do we decide if they’re lying?” Rittan wondered. “As we discussed earlier, there is no PDI here to record everything.”

“We do an investigation into the incident, get both sides of the story, find out as much information as we can before making a decision,” August said, and then because he could already see the follow-up question. “If either party can’t work things out themselves, we can make the final decision as a community or elect a few people who are the most reasonable to make the ruling.”