The humans had forgotten their interplanetary divisions ever since the Gringlons and themselves had discovered each other. After learning the languages in 2025, Earth had united all the nations and started having a single administration. This continued every five years. Since 2025, Ranjana Kumar had been unbeaten as the President of Earth. In the election of 2040, Jeremy Randall had competed, and no one had given it a second thought at the time. Then, Randall proposed the synthesis of a huge program called Mission Roddenberry, honouring the creator of Star Trek in this mission to “seek out new life, and new civilizations”. A whole lot of people liked this idea, compared to Kumar’s stupid “colonize the Gringlons” idea. No one understood why she was going with such a stupid campaign. Her campaigns until now were nothing but awesome! So, naturally, they voted for Randall.
On the Twenty-Second of February, 2040, Jeremy Randall was sworn in as President of Earth. Everyone was ready to hear the start of Mission Roddenberry. Harry McCall, a citizen of London, turned on his T.V. screen showed thunderous applause as Mr. Randall sat in his chair. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” said Randall, “I’m sure all of you are waiting to hear me start Mission Roddenberry. But no. There will be no Mission Roddenberry.”
Harry was astonished. What the hell was he doing? What happened to “The continuing mission to explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no one had gone before”? What was Randall’s deal?
“Instead,” continued the President, “The legislative committee and I have decided to start a new festival. We don’t know what to call it yet, but here are the premises: No rules apply on 26th February every year. Everything you can think of is legal. This new law is effective immediately. Thank you.”
No thunderous applause followed him out. No reporters followed him out. Everybody was too dumbstruck to contemplate what just happened. Harry McCall had lost all hope in humanity instantly. He didn’t necessarily have a dark mind, but he had a clear one. Even if crime was legal, he found it unethical. Harry switched off the T.V. in disgust and grabbed his phone. There was only one thing any man worth his salt would do. He called Kalyani.
Kalyani Sharma was an Indian born, down-to-earth Londoner, who was surprised at the status of the woman. It had not improved since 2015, and now this weird law? The rapists were going to be everywhere. Her phone started ringing. It was definitely Harry, suggesting that he should accompany her wherever she went tomorrow. She picked up her phone and assured Harry that she would be fine, and decided that it would be best to carry a small club around with her. Unfortunately, she didn’t have anything near as awesome as that, so she settled for her bottle of pepper spray. She did have a cricket bat, but that would be a little to bulky to carry. She put the spray in her bag and decided to retire for the day. She sat down at her desk and opened up her writer’s log. She pressed the record button and spoke, “Captain’s Personal Log, date: 25th February, 2040. We’re pretty much screwed, yo.”
Harry McCall woke up to a loud thud in his house. As a reflex, he jumped out of bed and picked up his cricket bat. He was still in his pajamas, but he didn’t care. There was a person in his house.
Harry heard the loud, clumsy footsteps come towards the bedroom. He anticipated the burglar’s location. He heard the burglar right outside the door, and pushed it open with all his might. The door crashed into the burglar’s face. Harry closed the door behind him and brought his bat crashing down onto the burglar’s face. He noticed the gun in the burglar’s hand and reached for it. The burglar was too fast, and pointed the gun at Harry. The gun was then knocked out of his hand by Harry’s bat’s handle, as it came shooting up. Harry jabbed the bat into the burglar’s stomach. The trespasser doubled over in pain and received the face of Harry’s bat straight in his nose. Harry went around the burglar and jabbed the handle into the back of his opponent’s knees. The burglar was now kneeling, and Harry, in a savage blow, brought the bat into the back of the burglar’s head. The burglar let out a roar of pain and crumpled to the ground.
Harry quickly knelt to his opponent’s side and grabbed his wrist. He felt nothing. The burglar was dead. Harry had killed a man with a cricket bat. He dropped said bat to the ground and slumped into the floor, horrified at what he’d done. He had no provocation. The man had only broken into his house, and he died for it. It was legal to kill today, but was it worth it? He hadn’t wanted to kill him. Just drive him away. Heck, the man hadn’t even attempted to kill Harry! Harry had killed him nonetheless. There he sat, crying. He cried until his pajamas were soaked with tears. He just sat twas not thinking of Harry at that time. She had more pressing matters to think about. Likehere, with a dead man in front of him, and a cricket bat at his side, stained with blood. What would his parents think of him? Moreover, what would Kalyani think of him?
Kalyani wondered how she was going to get to work. It was going to be rough. There would definitely be rapists on the loose, and she had walked there every single time. She hadn’t even thought of buying a car. She could get anything she wanted by calling a taxi or walking. Why would she want her own car? Now, her own car sounded like an awesome idea.
She would have to conquer her fears. She would have to bring back years of self-defense classes that her school had made her go through. She had to bring out her pepper spray, and hope that nothing happened on the way to her office.
As soon as she walked out of the apartment complex she stayed in, she saw a man and a woman going at each other in a fist fight. She was happy to see that the woman was dominating the man, and then immediately scolded herself for thinking this was in any way a good thing. Diplomatic resolution of disputes had always been her ‘thing’, and there was no one who could beat her in an argument.
It wasn’t even a dark, dingy alley where those three creeps cornered her. Heck, it wasn’t even a corner! It was a footpath. They came in, yelling, “Heyyy, there, purrdy!” and Kalyani wanted to puke. She tightened her grip on the strap of her bag, and continued walking. One of them blocked her path, making her bump into him. “Get out of my way, half-wit,” said Kalyani, looking straight into the creep’s eyes. “Before I beat your face so that even your mother wouldn’t be able to recognize it.”
“Ooooh!” said a different creep, coming in behind her. She slipped her hand into her bag and closed her fingers around the spray. She turned around and said, “I’m only going to say this once. Back. Off.”
“Or what?” said the creep, showing her a toothless smile, “You’ll stop talking to me?”
“I’ll break whatever teeth you have left.”
“Oooh!” said the third creep.
“Is that all you guys can ever do?”
That’s when the creep made his biggest mistake.
He pushed Kalyani into the compound wall, and she got angry. She took her hand out of her bag with the pepper spray in it, and punched the rapist in front of her in the stomach. She sprayed pepper in the eyes of the advancing creep to her right, and sent her foot crashing into the third guy’s crotch. She sprayed the pepper into his eyes. She dropped her bag and advanced at the first guy, punching him twice in the face, and spraying the pepper into his eyes as well. He stumbled over to the edge of the footpath, trying to clear his eyes. He tripped and fell into the road, and a racing car ran over him, splattering blood everywhere. She walked over to the guy on her left, grabbed his ear and twisted it with her left hand, and punched him with her right. He fell to the ground, unconscious. She turned to see the last rapist wildly grabbing at her. She walked over, and gave him and uppercut under the chin. She grabbed his ear, twisted it, and whispered into his other one, “Don’t ever – ever – underestimate a woman.”
She pushed him away, punched his stomach, and brought her knee up to his nose as he doubled over in pain. He flipped over and fell on his back. Kalyani grabbed her bag and ran as fast as she could, wiping the tears from her eyes. She had just killed a man. She made him fall into the road and get run over by a car. She had committed murder. What would her parents think of her? Moreover, what would Harry think of her?