28-06-2003 12:04									#1
	The Man Who Would Be King Got spare money?

My national borders were growing.

They should be; I’d stacked books in the library from floor to ceiling. I had history texts, books on languages and poetry, arts, humor, and references of the classics. I had novels and leaflets and chapbooks and loose papers and notes scribbled on napkins. It didn’t matter the medium, it was the knowledge that counted. Lately I had developed a space for nothing but the sciences. There seemed to be some promise in physics.

I stood on the far north corner of my lands and scanned my new holdings. By my estimation the line of demarcation was now a hundred yards beyond where it was before I built the library. With more improvements I could secure the forest on the other side of the field as well.

The forest would be nice but it was the field I had to have. I could see the exposed iron from the palace turrets and I knew the wonders that metal would bring to my civilization. I had begun a crude road from my palace to the ore but it was very slow going. By noon there was a rough path leading from the back gates to a fence encircling the field.

I went to fetch something to help bypass the fence when I noticed a boy of about 16 approaching. He had stringy black hair, wore a dirty shirt and pants, and it looked like his face was already easing into a lifetime of blank stares. His boots were stained green

“You need your grass mowed, mister?”

I tried to conceal my smile but there was no hope of that. A worker! It was a sign, surely. I was making headway.

“The lawn is fine the way it is,” I said. “How are you at digging roads?”

We negotiated a price and I returned to the palace. The boy seemed perplexed at my offer of gold but warmed considerably when I suggested a pact involving wine. There were grapes aplenty in my lands. Wine was luxury I could afford.

I struggled the next few hours with a design for the temple I wished to construct. I had enough material to build a fine monument but I needed to strike an accord between piety and balance. Mine was a kingdom that welcomed all faiths. Eventually I decided on a simple structure free of symbols or designs. I could always add more candles to make it more reverent.

At three I went to check on the lad’s progress and was surprised to see him nearly finished. He had made short work of the fence and had progressed all the way to the iron deposit. All the work that remained was cosmetic.

I paid him his wine and bade him return the following day to help with the temple. He placed the bottles under his shirt and said a quick “G’bye.” Before leaving he glanced around as if worried we’d be seen.

I went to inspect his work and that was when another approached. For a brief moment I thought another worker had arrived. But it was clear the newcomer was unfriendly if not outright hostile. He was older and thicker and his face was as red as the setting sun.

“Hey, is that your house?” he said, pointing to the palace. He strode toward me through the field as if in a great hurry.

“It is and I am its lord. And you are?”

He stopped a few feet from me. “Name’s Clemons. This is my field here and I was wondering what happened to my grass and my fence.”

This was not a worker at all but a diplomat from another nation. Perhaps he was even a leader such as myself. I offered him a seat at my table and after a moment’s hesitation he agreed to join me. Once inside, he seemed uneasy, perhaps due to the opulence of the grand dining room. It was good to be in a position of power for the coming discussion.

“Kinda dark in here, ain’t in, buddy?” he said.

“I could light some candles if you would like.” I said, but this seemed to confuse him all the more.

“Candles? Aincha got no power?”

I stole a glance at the wall switch. Was he trying to tell me that he had electricity? Or was this a trick to make me think he did?

“No, not yet I don’t. But please, have a seat.” The light from the bay window would be more than enough for us.

He took a seat with his back to the glass. He remained fidgety and looked even more uncomfortably as he declined my offer of wine.

“Very well,” I began. “Let us get down to business. You wish to negotiate the disposition of the lands north of here that have fallen within my realm. What do you offer?”

This seemed to genuinely surprise him. Was he expecting more small talk before we got down to brass tacks?

“Offer? I’m not making an offer. The land ain’t for sale.”

A few seconds passed before I stood up and began pacing the room.

‘I can offer you wine, but you don’t seem interested in that. Gold seems a bit much since by rights I’ve claimed the land in an equitable way. I wish to be a good and fair host so name your price and we’ll barter.”

“Look,” he said, rising from his chair so quickly that it fell back onto the carpet. “I don’t know what the hell is going on but I’m going straight to the cops. That’s vandalism out there, pure and simple.”

I turned to him and leaned over the table. My fingers drummed the surface as I thought.

“So you’ll not negotiate at all, is that it?”

“I think you’re some kind of lunatic, that’s what I think.”

It had come to this. Eventually, I suppose, it always did. I excused myself and walked into the kitchen. I had made every attempt, I told myself. This was not of my doing.

The iron pipe was not as keen as a blade but the result was the same. When it was done I dragged the body to the basement. It was not the best solution but it would have to suffice until the worker returned.

The next day I tried arranging bricks for the temple but the deed from earlier kept me unfocused. If only it could have been some other way. The boy arrived and seemed uneasy with the day’s work. He excused himself and I fear turned traitor.

It took an army to unseat me from my throne. Blue uniforms came from all sides. I was bound and incarcerated and then much later was tried and found guilty. All the while I calculated my kingdom’s growth and knowledge. All the while I absorbed everything I could. I am the face of my nation. I am her king.

When it was done I was placed somewhere dark and cold. There was talk of treatments and potions unknown to me. But all the while I plotted my return.

It is early Saturday morning and the guards are few. I have seen their codes for the doors and now I understand the electronics behind it all. I even plan to have electricity as soon as I build a force to retake the palace. I have used my time wisely and I have learned much.

In a few hours I will take my leave of this place and begin my ascent back to my throne. The days when iron and wine were enough have long passed.

I think tomorrow I will look for uranium.

	28-06-2003 20:10									#2
	Increase Your PM Length

Playing the Modern start game?

It is pretty good, I like it.

	28-06-2003 21:02									#3
	Help yourself to an AD-FREE life

lol brilliant

	29-06-2003 23:44									#4
	Support Apolyton, buy Civilization: The Boardgame

The Son of Man goes forth to war,
A golden crown to gain;
His blood-red banner streams afar -
Who follows in his train?

	30-06-2003 02:06									#5
	Support Apolyton, buy GURPS/ Alpha Centauri

very different to read kinda story, and i do like it.

Jason

	30-06-2003 14:32									#6
	Support Apolyton, buy Galactic Civilizations

Great work

	18-07-2003 09:02									#7
	Increase Your PM Length

Whoops, I really should have said thanks for the kind words. I have a bad habit of posting a story and then crawling back into the basement to write the next one. I will try to frequent here more often

I'm sure I will butcher his name here, but I want to thank steamthunk for this story. He wrote something in the thread for "The Bijou" (more on that later) that got me thinking. I'll have to paraphrase him, but what he said was that he liked stories that were not all about war or preparing for war. I meant to write a response, and I did so in my head, but it never made it to print.

What I wanted to say was how I agree that there are a lot of different story genres that can be molded into a Civ setting. I listed off a few ideas in my response - the one I never actually wrote - and one of those was a story highlighted by a murder.

Now, I'm no repository of Civ story arcana so it's very possible there are fifteen Civ stories on the front page that feature murder. And I also know that murder is not the focus of this story. But just the same I owe steamthunk (I did get the name right, right?) for getting me to think about what other Civ related ideas were still floating around out there.

If it isn't gauche to mention another story in this thread, I'll address "The Bijou." I will finish it but it will have to be revamped. I have always refused to post incomplete stories before and now I know why. I do know exactly what's going to happen but the gettin' there is the rough spot.

I don't know if Bijou gets finished before my next story. I've got two coming as soon as possible, one in a church and one in a bar. As always, the one in the bar is more fun.

	12-07-2005 19:09									#8
	Tired of ads?

I wonder how many Apolytoners we've lost to such mental-difficulties

The game, as we well know, is quite realistic...

	14-07-2005 05:27									#9
	Tired of ads?

Loved the writing! Enjoyed the story!

	15-07-2005 07:12									#10
	Lose 30 kilos (of popups)

This was one of those rare stories that came to me complete. I had moved an old PC and monitor into a spare bedroom in order to have a quiet space to write. As I recall this was the only story that came out of that experiment.