Fair Play Book Review Novels & Stories

Julianne still would not have to walk. How was that fair? Seeing Julianne’s smug expression, I understood. These two were trying to exploit a loophole in the system. If they succeeded, my life would become significantly more difficult. However, the government had promoted the Children’s Fairness System for a reason. It possessed strong adaptive and analytical capabilities. [Scan complete. Julianne Dawson’s health index: 85. Zinnia Dawson’s health index: 71. System verdict: Zinnia Dawson takes the car.]

"I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain." A slow smile spread across Ghost's face, the blue light momentarily illuminating a glint of admiration in his eyes. A flicker of a plan seemed to spark in his gaze. Anya, a new recruit in the fight for freedom, knew this was just the beginning. The rebellion had a new weapon, a former slave with a thirst for vengeance and a stolen blade at her side. The fight for New Shanghai had just begun. Author: Gideon Fiadzomor Copyright protected

Her palms were cool and dry. "Valentina. Sweetheart." The endearment sounded like a word she'd learned phonetically. "I know you spent fifteen years in a bad situation. That wasn't your fault, and it wasn't ours. But Brittany is innocent in all of this. You're home now, and as parents, we need to keep the scales balanced." She squeezed my fingers once, then released. "Binding the family to the Fairness System ensures we won't favor you over her. You understand, don't you?"

he said. "Because you're in it," she agreed. "And because the chapter is about something you did — choosing the complete truth when the partial one was still available. I needed you to know I wrote about that. That it's in the book now." He was quiet for a moment. "Is it honest?" he asked. "Everything in the book is honest," she said. "Is it fair?" She thought about this seriously. "It is as fair as honesty about difficult things can be," she said. "Which means it names what was done and what it cost. And it also names what was chosen when the alternative was available. Both things are in there. The full picture."

So Proserpina moves on to the next row, then the next one, and the next one, on and on until she was literally kneeling like a child on the floor when she finally comes across a book third to the last on the bottom row in between a skinny book and leather bound one; the book was silver-gray, small and light in her hands and the cover seemed to have some sort of glossy material in it as it twinkled when she turned it here and there… ‘Kind of a child’s storybook,’ she noted. The book was almost as big as her palm and seemed to have pages as what one would expect from a novelette. She carefully opens it up to the first page–not wanting to have a repeat of another destroyed book because a destro

“And I just…sat there.” “Wait, you didn’t defend him?” Allya’s whisper had an edge of surprise. I bit my lip, my stomach churning. I can still remember the look of disappointment, like he wanted me to defend him, but I just…froze. “I wanted to. But, everything was happening so fast, and then they were yelling at each other, and by the time I found my voice, he was already gone.” As if taking a page out of my life, Professor Aquila brought up something called the prisoner’s dilemma. How two parties could either cooperate or betray each other, and how the optimal outcomerequired trust.

"One wrong move, and you'll find their dead corpses in your bed! Watch what you do, Ellie!" "Mom! Does it have to come to this?" Nelly speaks. "In a game, you use all the means possible to win, including cheating, and killing your opponent if possible. And since the dead doesn't compete, you emerge with the victory." "But where is the fairness in that?" I ask. "Nothing is fair in this world. Bo.li.eve, that! Now get out of my sight, Ellie, because your sight irritates my demons so much!" She states.

“This book isn’t for you.” “But I like the story.” “‘Like’ isn’t part of your life curriculum,” she said coldly. “Ace, this is a weak book. One that tries to make justice sound like a matter of emotion. And the world doesn’t work that way.” “It’s just fiction, Mama. For fun.” “Fiction won’t make you anybody.” Her eyes went ice cold. “We don’t read books that justify rebellion against the law. Especially ones that humanize criminals.” “But it’s not—”

She paused and let the room sit with it. "You can feel it," she said. "You know it in your body when you have been treated fairly and you know it in your body when you have not. And that feeling, that sense of justice or injustice, is what every rule we have ever written was trying to protect. Rules did not create fairness. The feeling of fairness created rules." I noted this argument. It was a version of what I had anticipated. I had my rebuttal ready.