I am Sixteen, Going on Seventeen...

Thanks, Anna, for getting that one stuck in my head. :D

Okay. Back on original subject, I was deleting random crap off of my SciSem drive, and was going through this folder with stupidly-named files on it. As it turns out, those files are Word Documents that I'd forgotten about over time, and had written a long time back.

Anyway, most of them are ridiculous, not that this one isn't, but this one was when I was in a creative-sy mood, and decided to write some futuristic SciFi.

But I was so proud of myself. I don't actually sound COMPLETELY retarded in this story. :D

So, basically, getting to the point, here's the prologue. It needs edited in a major way, but it's pretty okay, and at least the virst sentence has my heart.

Dawn hit the earth with harsh brilliancy; a bright red sun glaring out over the dry land, bringing with it the tormenting heat. This was the hottest time of day, when below freezing could jump to heat-stroke temperatures or more, keeping most people inside air-conditioned houses or by Trill Lake, the closest man-made lake of the twenty-second century with a darkened dome, close to the freezing depths of crystalline liquid that filtered through it every day.

From my point of view, all was still dark.

To watch the sun right now, or ever in any case, was blinding and harmful to the eyes. The handful of people that stood outside with me now all had Blinders on, created with special technology that made us fit and able to work in the morning by sensing where the sun was. They made us view everything in night-vision with infrared mode until it reached a certain point in the sky that was deemed safe. Historians said the sun was getting brighter with age, which was obviously true from previous records.

The six of us, clad in form-fitting jackets, hoods up, jeans, and our Blinders, all made with our job in mind, stood silently, looking at nothing. There was no sun rise in our world, though I’d seen safety footage of it from the chip that was wired into a cuff on my wrist, along with a hundred or more other tools. One of them included an alarm, which was currently going off in my head as the unseeable first light flooded the area.

I could feel it seeping through my jeans, and almost smiled before I remembered the other Ayrizon standing around me.

“Hey, does anyone else see something at the Galine house?” a metallic tone said, ringing in my ears. I turned as one of the figures beside me, indiscernible amongst the rest, was motioning towards a new house on the corner. It had been nothing less than a plan three weeks ago, was built less than two, and inhabited only yesterday by a family, Lear and Kelia Galine, by my records, who were new to the state.

A red, green, and yellow form was opening the door slowly, peeking out at the blinding glory of morning. They’d never heard of the warnings.

“Hey! You over there!” The metallic voice rang again, but it wasn’t through my head this time. The speaker took off towards the disobeying figure, and as his hood blew back, I could tell that it was Trey, our captain. He was wearing a voice filter, something we all had to wear, that made your voice impossible to recognize by others, hence the muffled voice. Supposedly, it would protect us from being recognized outside of the job, or when we were retired, but no one really thought about why we had to wear it any more, only that we had to, by commanding law.

“Ryvinn!” Trey yelled into the system, reminding me that I wasn’t exactly a spectator. I pressed against the side of my neck and an analyzing screen came up and scouted out the splash of color.

It beeped, the results flashing on-screen. “It’s Callie Galine, age three, of the Galine household.” I recited into the system. “U-lay?”

“U-lay” He replied without a trace of breathlessness, the Ayrizon sign for ‘understood’.

I turned on my light-rate program, and saw that the sum was almost to the brightest point: the middle. It wasn’t a huge problem if it had just begun to rise, or if it was almost out of the danger zone, but nowadays, the sun rose quickly and time was of the essence in any public-emergency that happened in those crucial minutes.

Thrity yards into the run, Trey collapsed.

This had never happened, as far as I knew, and though we yelled for him in the system, he didn’t respond.

No one moved, though there was only two minutes until the sun would blind the child for life. In training, we’d been told not to, by any means, unless a comrade was severely injured and your captain gave you the order.

Just our luck, our captain happened to be laying in the dirt, lifeless.

A metallic buzz hummed in my head. People were worried. The group had no clue what to do. Trey could be dead.

A minute and a half.

Someone swore.

Making a mindless and potentially dangerous decision, I began to run as fast as I possibly could. Callie stood on the cement porch, smiling at the sun, sheilding her eyes with her hands. In a moment, her make-shift sheild wouldn’t work. In a moment, she would lose all of her sight.

“What in Gahela’s name do you think you’re doing?!” Someone yelled from the sideline along with a steady uproar of protest from the other three.

I switched my system off, something else that was a strict line to never cross in the Academy, and kept running, my footfalls resounding through my body.

At forty-five seconds left, I was really wishing I was a fifteen year old who’d excelled in book-smarts instead of government agency secrets.

But no.

At thirty seconds, I glanced behind me. The other Ayrizon were just black smudges. It kept getting hotter.

Less than ten seconds later, I came to Trey, but jumped over him and kept running. He was trained to survive, no matter what, but that little girl had absolutely no clue what she was doing and I was the only one who could help her now.

As I ran the last thrity yards, my whole carreer flashed before me. It was kind of like dying, I guess, because in a way, I was ‘seeing the light’ of my job. I knew I would be kicked out, but I hadn’t realized until now, in my three years as a Ayrizon, that I’d been picking myself over the victim every time. I remembered training, my instructors showing me the rules I’d just mutilated, picking me to say the ten credited laws out loud; all leading up ot my certification and the official title of a true Ayrizon.

At two seconds, Callie and I smashed into the wooden floor of her house. Everything went darker than night-black, and I passed out from over-heating and dehydration.

:D

Pretty much, it's about a society in which you really don't need an education to work, and you work young. The government has official authority over everything. Rivynn (who's name I've used before. Again - NOT really creative most of the time) kind of has involvement, and both her and a couple of her partners help bring down the Ayrizons and all of the rules that society has to follow because of them.

Blah.
Okay.
I'm done.

Love,
Lauren.