Original Justice
By
Brent E. Meranda
Shashwords Edition
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Copyright © 2014 by Brent E. Meranda
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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Grace Robbins received her first summons twenty five years after the Originals awoke from stasis, and two years after they’d attacked her in a riot. She still walked with a limp, and slept with a gun. The last thing she needed was court ordered understanding.
The black and gold seal on the envelope was enough to make her lightheaded, and her hands began shaking. She rolled up her sleeves and allowed the morning sun to warm her skin. Within seconds, her arms darkened into the same deep green as her face and hands, and energy began surging through her veins. She sighed. She’d lose weight next week. Right now she needed this.
She looked once more at the envelope in her hand. Her uncle had gone insane after his summons. Now he lived in a shack on the outskirts of the camps, convinced he was one of them. The last she’d heard, he was dealing in black market nuero-chips. She shook her head. It had taken the justice department to turn him into a criminal.
She tore open the envelope and confirmed her fears. The letter tried to reassure her. The technology was safe now, they claimed. It wasn’t like the old days. And besides, she had a duty. Someone had to do it. It would be okay.
Well, she’d served her time. She’d done her duty. While the Originals slept, she’d fought a war and helped tame a planet. She’d sacrificed. She suffered. She’d starved. And in the end, she’d won. She’d helped build a successful independent colony where previously there’d been only an uninhabitable rock.
Then they woke up. Totally unprepared to camp out in a backyard tent, let alone colonize a planet. Lucky for them, it wasn’t a planet in need of colonization anymore. They’d probably crash landed on purpose, intentionally letting others do the hard work, only to be discovered centuries later safe and sound. Only they weren’t sound, were they? They never had been. They were disease and crime infested. Lazy and stupid. Earth’s rejects.
It wasn’t fair.
“You coming in?” her sister yelled from the front porch.
“When I'm ready!” She stuffed the letter into the envelope, and then limped down the path to their house, pausing only to pull a weed from the garden.
#
Sam smiled as he watched Anna slip through his arms and then sit up on the edge of the bed. The morning light filtered through the open window and reflected off her face, filling the whole room with her warmth. He grabbed her wrist, unwilling to let her leave so easily. “One more kiss.”
She tossed her head and pulled her hair to the side revealing her smooth brown shoulder. Then she leaned in and kissed him. “I gotta go.”
“Five more minutes.”
She ran her hand over her belly. “Someone’s got to earn a living.”
“It’s Sunday,” he said. “Take the day off.”
She frowned, and then yanked her wrist free and reached for a bra. “This ain’t earth.”
It was an old argument. Sam worked too, but he stuck to the camps where they still shut down every seven days to be with family and to thank God they were alive. He couldn't remember if the days were longer or shorter than they were supposed to be, but it didn't matter. A day was a day, and it was the right thing to do. Anna, on the other hand, wanted more. She’d applied for a job outside the camps the same day the law had changed, and now she did her best to act like she didn’t live here anymore.
“So, pretend it is. Would that be so bad?”
“Well it ain't. And you know it ain’t.” She stood, finished fastening her bra, and Sam frowned in disappointment. “And that means this ain't Sunday.”
He watched as she pulled a dress from the closet, twirled it in front of her, and then stepped into it. She'd picked the bright red one he'd bought for her on their anniversary. It was a bold choice, and one he couldn't help agreeing with.
“You're beautiful,” he said.
“Uh, huh.” She squinted at him. “I'm not getting back in that bed.”
He got up and walked up behind her, resting his hands on her hips and kissing the brand on her neck before zipping the back of the dress. “No, I mean it. You're beautiful.”
She shoved him away. “I'm fat.”
He shook his head. “You're pregnant.”
“Well I feel fat.”
He put his arms around her and squeezed. It didn't matter how he said it, his words would never make her see the truth. “How can I convince you?”
A grin snuck past her frown. “Buy me something.” She batted her eyes. “Something pretty.”
Something pretty? What could be prettier than the woman standing in front of him? He’d buy her the world if he could. “Tonight,” he promised.
Her hidden grin erupted into a full blown smile, and she turned, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
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