Chapter 3

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Chapter 3 – The Wayward Son – Richard

Richard was alone in his house watching the news. Tired after long days of working his land, he passed most evenings this way. Pretty sad for a 25 year old guy in his prime. Normally, the news did not show anything profound. Stories on the state of the Supply Lines, policy decisions from Mars, and features on peaceful happenings around both worlds dominated the airwaves. The Martian controlled newscasts put a great amount of effort into showing a peaceful, productive world. He understood the concept of the self-fulfilling prophecy they were trying to create: show peace and peace will follow. But it wasn't all true. There was discord all around. That night, for once, he would see it reflected.

In the middle of a story about a young girl in a nearby city who had inspired her schoolmates to create care packages for the elderly, the screen blanked out. As Richard got up to smack the TV – some technologies, and their fixes, lasted millennia – it flickered back on. Gone was the little girl, Louisa, and her care baskets. She was replaced by a bright red screen accompanied by a siren sound. Interested, Richard sat back down and watched.

"Attention, Earth Residents!" A voiceover began and the red screen switched to an image of Earth. A few seconds passed, presumably to allow anyone watching to gather the rest of the members of their household and give the TV their full attention. Finally, a live broadcast began, led by none other than Roark.

Richard wasn't surprised when he saw Roark's face. He had worked with him on the rig-boats when he was a teenager. His father had mentored them both as his possible successors. A memory struck him then, and as Roark paused on the TV screen, waiting for attention, it played out quickly in his head.

They had been friends at first. Roark was like a big brother to him. He had taken him out to a local tavern that night after a hard day's work.

"You've worked like a real man for the first time today, buddy! It's time you got drunk like one!"

He smiled sheepishly, excited by the idea of being included in Roark's plans. Roark, who could break any rule and never get in trouble just by the power of his smile. "Not sure how you think we're going to accomplish that, we're not of age."

"Awww poor little Richie is scared! You're with me, kid. I know people."

Of course he did. He bristled at being called "Kid", Roark was only four years older, but he wore the years proudly. He knew he would go along with the plan.

They had ended up at Sadie's, a bar run by a real-live Sadie. It was strange to see a business not run by the Martians, but every now and then one would pop up in an industrial area. Likely it wasn't registered, which was why Roark could drink there. That and his smile.

"Gentleman! Watch me get this kid rip-roaring drunk for the first time in his life! It's the Supply Chief's son, little Richie himself, wouldya believe it?!" He had bragged to his friends, asserting himself over Richard despite Richard's obviously more impressive birthright.

But it had been fun. Richard remembered meeting the beautiful girl.

It was strange to see the likes of her in a tavern by the docks, and maybe she hadn't been as beautiful as the alcohol made her seem. Or the years of recalling her memory, clouded by his hatred of Roark. The rejection still stung though.

"You're so cute!" She exclaimed as they danced. Richard didn't know how to dance, but she led him around just the same. "Your dad is the Supply Chief? What's he like?"

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