Life~replayed

My Childhood Heroes

2010-01-29T21:42:00.000+08:00

There I was, sitting in a cinema, cupping my hands over my ultra-sensitive ears while the mega speakers of the cinema blabbered on. Of course such a scene would only be seen when I was much younger. Nevertheless, half way through the movie when I see Jackie Chan whizzing through the street cutting down bad guys as he stood, Jet Li exclaiming firmly in Cantonese to some bad guy and then proceeding on to kick the life out of him or James Bond in his always super-spy, womanizing like action of downing tens of evil henchmen and then jumping off some cliff in an impossible feet, accompanied by a complementing soundtrack.
Obviously from my comments, my childhood heroes are of course: James Bond (Pierce Brosnan then in the Bond movies I watched), Jackie Chan and Jet Li. For some reason, childhood memories of movies are always the most nostalgic but the only bad thing is that, with children, memories come and go with little understanding of such movies. It is only later on during my teenage years that I fully appreciate the movies and their between-the-lines meanings(i.e. The Matrix, Spongebob Squarepants, Lord of The Rings, Star Wars and etc.).
For some reason, Cantonese, my native dialect seems really good to hear with a feeling of incomprehensible joy rising from beneath my tingled heart. That is one of the reasons why I love old Cantonese kung-fu films no matter how terrible qualitied they maybe.
Its also the patriotic films of China being saved(in vain) by a patriot who rises out from the masses amid the onset of corruption and international colition forces of invasion. Although I had never been borned in China, nor had my father been, I am a Chinese and I have originated from a distant homeland I never visited till I was 7. The connection is there and is enough to arise the feelings of belonging and national pride.
As for James Bond films(the older ones from Golden Eye backwards...) also seem to take me on some memory lane back to a time that I had never lived through, especially since I was not even borned then. I remembered that the first James Bond film I watched was Golden Eye when I was three. The reason why I liked the older James Bond films from Godlen Eye backwards was for the fact that they had some kind of Technicolour quality in the silver screen. It is like vintage films when colour was just introduced.
And also the next reason is because I love the cold war parodies that the Bond films made, with like Bond against countless Soviet troops or fighting super villains bent on world domination despite the cloud of an imminent Soviet missile incoming. Its the love of sking down snow, shooting Soviets or evil henchmen off motorskis or skis.
And now that you know I love Technicolour films...you should know that I love almost all action movies of that time. That is one of the little reasons why I grew in love with Star Wars.
Go childhood heroes!
(By the way, Daniel Craig sucks!)
P.S. Just in case you were wondering, I have indeed watched all the James Bond films including the spin-off: Never say, Never Again.

My list of Bonds (the highest numerically listed is my most favourite of course):
1.) Sean Connery
2.)Pierce Brosnan
3.)Timothy Dalton
4.)Roger Moore
5.)George Lazenby
(There will be no Daniel craig in this list)

Life~Replayed
Jiang Haolie

Happy Holidays

2009-12-06T15:28:00.000+08:00

"Enjoy your holidays!" exclaims a classmate as he dashes out the school gate back home to his much awaited computer where he begins a six-hour-long affair on the computer with an engaging video game. And I do very much suppose I had done the exact same thing.

Of course, school holidays, especially the end-of-year holidays are meant to be, as it's called, a holiday. It is supposed to be a time off the stressful holds of life but yet, while we free ourselves from the stressful and usually boring routine of life: waking up early just like everyone does, coming home late drenched with sweat and with a burden of mind-wrenching homework, going to sleep tired and wasted and then waking up early again the very next morning; we begin the next seemingly un-stressful task of early day-long computer gaming sessions and just useless wastage of time.

By the time the full onslaught of the holidays come, around the third week, the fun of waking up late and the greatness of no-homework recedes to just pure boredom. Two weeks of non-stop computer gaming had obviously taken a toll. The eyes are bloodshot and sore. By then, it feels stressful not to do anything at all and just waste our lifes away on some stupid holiday.

Waking up at a pre-lunch time period as always made me feel unhappy and just disarrayed. The entire day is tipped over without order, for the simple fact that I had woken up late. Well, it does in fact make a difference to just wake a few hours earlier and it does also seem to brig about a feeling that I had not wasted my day, despite not doing much. Nevertheless, each day comes and go wasted.

I wake up late a 10.30. The birds are chirping annoyingly and the sun is up high. It is late to have a breakfast, and too learly to have lunch. All I can do is hold back my hunger and read the newspapers or just go back to sleep, such that my eating hours are also not similarly disordered and disorientated. After nearly two hours of wasted time , my lunch has arrived. Immediately after that, the computer is my world. Previously, I had made a pledge never to play Combat Arms agai, but the boredom was too terrible, not the addictiveness of the game. I had longs ince recovered from the addiction. Soon after two doors of playing leisurely, the addiction had a relaspe. Afer a week of gaming, I could no longer take the wastefulness of time. Half of my holiday assignments had not been accomplished but only a third of the holiday was left unused or not yet wasted.I could not let the nightmare of returning to school with my assignments unfinished turn to reality.

As such, the waves of reality came crashing in, I could no longer stand by and allow my holiday time to go to waste. School holidays were meant to catch up with our rest, to unwind from the stressful routines of normal day life and get our little holiday assignment done such that the holidays are meaningful, not sell ourselves to a more stressful regime of trying to rank up in a sweaty game of a first-person-shooter video game, or just lazing in bed day dreaming of future aspirations.

The holidays are not to go to waste without meaning. And I will not allow that to happen, not when I still have enough will power to counter the urge to just relax and waste the time away. Can I? Oh well...at least I still read novels at a constant if not, greater pace.

Life~Replayed
Jiang Haolie

The Stormtrooper Effect

2009-11-24T13:29:00.000+08:00

The Imperial Stormtroopers in Star Wars, "despite overwhelming numbers, professional military education and training, full armour, military-grade firepower, and noticeable combat effectiveness against non-speaking characters, were incapable of seriously harming or indeed even hitting the film's protagonists."says a Wikipedia article on the Stormtrooper effect.
Well that is exceptionally true, same for almost any form of action films. The evil henchmen is never able to kill or wound the protagonist of the film, despite firing hundreds of shots and sending tens of missed kicks and punches; only to be killed by the protagonist with one bullet, or a precise punch on the neck.
This Stormtrooper Effect is certainly necessary in any film for the fact that the protagonist of the film must survive till the end of the film or until the intended plot is portrayed. Like in the following examples of fictional characters: James Bond, John Rambo, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Aragorn, Bruce Lee, Wedge Antilles, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Neo, etc, etc.
As always, the evil henchmen in the movie and pouring out of their bunkers with loads of weapons and ammunition, spraying thousands of rounds at the protagonist, nevertheless, every shot fired is missed, or nearly hit. But the fact is, none of the bullets in all the cases, will ever hit its intended targets. And in most cases, the evil henchmen, be it droids, ninjas, Agents, expandable soldiers, bodyguards, orcs, guards or even vampires, will be taken down in a simple pulling of a trigger and swipe of a lightsaber or sword.
And this effect, will continue into the foreseeable future of movie-making. It is after all, part of a character shield.

Life~Replayed
Jiang Haolie

The cold inky void

2009-11-17T21:02:00.000+08:00

The cold inky void calls for me. Deeper I swim, ignoring the cold that trembles around me. My goggles blur, leaving only an image of an inky void ahead, nothing but that...

Found this picture online.

2009-11-10T10:44:00.000+08:00

Click to enlarge.

The power of tilt-shift

2009-11-08T22:08:00.000+08:00

I recently found out about tilt-shift photography on photobucket while searching through its database. Like shown in the photo(left), the objects or people seem toy-like, almost like miniatures in a real world setting.
You may doubt the authenticy of this photograph as a real-world photo, but I have to say that it is real. The method to creating such a photograph is either by using a tilt-shift lens for optical type of tilt shift; or for digital editing, you could use a photo editor and blur the surroundings. It would certainly create a splendid fake miniature photo.
But of course, the original photo must first possess some qualities like a not-too-fine and intricate details such that it would be able to look toy-like after editing. Below are more tilt-shift pictures:

~Hope you like them!~

Life~Replayed

Jiang Haolie

Bus Ride

2009-11-07T17:11:00.001+08:00

It is a typical Friday in Orchard Road. Shoppers and pedestrains are mixed in a wild street of sprawling shopping complexes with dazzling lights and sound. Flashing advertisements and blaring bilboard speakers, along with the hordes of entertaining baskers.
Further down on another street just outside the shopping district, night has fallen serenely, except for the mass of shoppers crowed in a single stuffy bus-stop, away from the lights and sounds. The bus arrives and as if trying to make things worst for the already crowded bus, it is a single decker bus, which in its usual type would be a double decker. And there were double decker buses for a reason - that is to contain the influx of passengers. But apparently, this bus was in no way capable of that.
And there the story goes again like almost every other Friday. The passengers jostle up bus, hoping that they would at least not have to wait for the next one whihc may come in nearly half-an-hour's time. And then, it is literally packed like sardines; the door could hardly close with passengers even standing on the door steps. Finally, the excess passengers were denied entry and the bus took a slow rumble forward.
I would not mind standing, that was not the problem. The problem was that a two frail looking old folk, that seemed that if they did not get a seat soon would collaspe with exhaustion. Two middle-age men (not youthful and energetic youth who could just otherwise gave up their seats) gave up their seats to the old folk. The other youth comfortably seating just looked away, probably in concealed embarrassment but did nothing to redeem themselves. Instead made veiled excuses of feeling tired by making a frowning tired face when glared at by older, clearly tired, standing passengers.
That was how public transport was like, live with it. So I did, biting down my annoyance. On my left hand, I held on to my shopping bags, in the other, I held on precariously to the handrails which hung on pretty flexible cords. The flexible cords made it rather easy to lean forward or even fall onto other passengers - something I did not want to. So with excellent balancing footwork and physics, I made myself stand absolutely still.
Should I lose my balance, I might fall backwards, onto a probably seven-month pregnant woman seating on the seat, I did not want to fall that way. So I would fall forward, as such, I looked forward, was a youth with his entire back covered in terrible filty powdery dust which I recognized as dandruff.
No, I would never, ever want to fall that way. If I fell that way, I would probably take two lives, the baby and the mother; if I fell the other way, I'll be drenched in disgusting and unbearable powder of dandruff. Nevertheless, I could only stand still and not fall.
And that was how I got through my terrible bus ride...
(The picture is just simply a vague exaggeration.)

Life~Replayed
Jiang Haolie

The Fall

2009-11-01T21:02:00.002+08:00

It was then...at the exact moment of my foolishness, I fell, falling over my bike seat, tumblin forward, while the bike when over the concrete curb with the back wheel falling straight down on my legs. I lay there in a daze, wondering what exactly had just happened. I remembered cycling from the swimming complex back home and as I entered the side road that would lead to the drop off point down my tenement block, the tires of my bike came too close to the curb, I skidded for a while, and despite years of cycling to and fro and even being able to cycle with one hand, I fell.
The forceful impact left me shaken. I lay on the ground for a while, in a daze. When I got up, my legs buckled and shivered instinctively, trying to recover from the impact. My mind was swirling, and my stomach groaned. The vigorous swimming I had done earlier had left me in nausea, and the fall just now, made it even worst. I was going to vomit, I knew it. I stumbled forward, lumbering the heavy mass of the bike up from the mangled heap in was in. I straightened it out and got onto the seat. I could not stand for long. The nausea was taking a toll on me. Slowly and painfully, I pedaled onwards to the drop of point. The rug-sack on my back slipped off. I let it fall to the ground. And after attempting to rest my bike against the wall for a few times, I gave up. I just let it fall to the ground again. And in a fit of exhaustion and pain, I collapsed on the bench, letting the nausea get over me.
As I sat there slump, I examined myself for fractures. There were none. But there were wounds. The rough ground I had fallen upon was rough. And because of that, part of the skin on my right palm was scrapped upwards in a sickly yellow dead-skin colour. The part of the right feet before my little toe was bleeding. The skin there had split open, and out came jam-coloured blood. Damn that stupid sharp slipper strap of mine. The blood was dirtied with soil and sand from the road too, a combination that I clearly hated.
All along my lower leg was other superficial cuts and scratches while on my left hand there were bruises.
The nausea was just getting worse, and it would get worst if I did not eat my lunch soon and ease the hunger that I could not feel but I knew was there.
With another burst of determination I struggled to my feet, picked up my bag and my bike, before finally pushing it to the lift lobby. My bones hurt and the wounds screamed of pain. I held on firmly to the handle of the bike. The vomiting sensation grew and soon it was making me disabled. I struggled on with the unbearable pain, enduring the worst, before finally getting everything into the lift. Before I knew it, I was back in my cozy, warm house. Lying on the carpet, too tired and too in pain to even place my bike properly. The muscles strained with spasms. The vomiting sensation subsided finally, but I knew it would come back the moment I stood or even sat upright.
My father who was nagging that I should be wearing a helmet and that he suspected that I was speeding down the road when to my bloody wound and placed a plaster over it. I was too tired and exhausted to protest that i should wash the wound first. Furthermore, I did not like putting on plasters for wounds. That would be something that my father would tease me about, but yet he was putting on a plaster over it. The wound must be pretty bad.
Finally after resting my stomach for a while, I got up for my lunch which I ate slowly and bit-by-bit. The plastered wound was really bloody, I noticed when I took a look at it. The plaster was very much drenched in blood, had I washed my wound first, the water would very much be red...

Combat Arms, the addiction

2009-10-27T16:07:00.005+08:00

Computer addiction as I said earlier, is a problem faced by me and also by almost every other teenager in this digital era. And the very source of my current computer addiction is of course like that of any other male teenager of my age - the seemingly innocent computer multi-player game, which in my case is Combat Arms.
Before I touch on more about this computer addiction, here's some information about Combat Arms. Combat Arms is a free-to-play first-person-shooter game developed by Nexon in Korea and has spread to other parts of the world of which its different game regions, namely America, Europe and Korea, have been created. It boost multi-player game play and high definition and breath-taking graphics and maps. By far, it surpasses even Counter Strike in terms of graphics, maps, weapons and game modes. Being largely realistic especially with its massive inventory of real-world weapons including an array of game-modes and especially its costless game play, it is a prominent game. Unfortunately, as it is free-to-play, it also invites hordes of hackers and glitchers which has depleted the fun in game play.It seems after all an endless battle between Nexon developers and hackers.
Back to my computer addiction. Though the computer addiction mentioned in my previous blog post is largely exaggerated, it still is appalling. One of my classmates once asked me if I "had a life" when I played only one FPS game, which is rather enough. After all, life does not revolve around a computer.
I was so addicted to this game that I played it through my exam week and due to this, I never even studied for my exams. Like the temptation of the One ring in Lord of the Rings, the computer is similar. Stand steadfast and determined, and you will never succumb to the temptation. Playing computer games is good in fact, and rather good for relieving stress and being socially-equal to most friends. Nevertheless, if you are unable to stand steadfast, the best thing to do, is just uninstall the game, click on the turn-off-computer button and get a real life outside the cyber-world.
Which is exactly what I am intending to do, after nearly passing some of my subjects which I would have otherwise done much better in. This self-imposed ban on computer gaming has officially been declared...
May I succeed in this noble task of mine.

I, Jiang Haolie of Singapore CTSS, hereby declares that he shall cease/quit gaming on the computer, i.e. Combat Arms or Gunz, The Duel, as of the 27th of October 2009. And that, should he succumb to the temptation of gaming, regardless of whatever resistance shown to the temptation, he will be sanctioned personally by himself. By agreeing to this declaration, I am acknowledging that I am hereby declaring the latter under no forms of duress whatsoever and that I am undertaking a task of epic proportions that is very much, near the brink of impossibility.

I hereby declare the undertaking of this noble task.

Jiang Haolie
27/10/2009

[This is computer generated declaration and does not require a signature]

Life~Replayed

Jiang Haolie

Computer addiction

2009-10-11T17:38:00.004+08:00

With spasms, my fingers continue clicking the mouse, on the monitor, the bullets are flying wildly, the images come blankly to me. Beads of sweat drip down my forehead. My heart pounds like an overloaded machine. Adrenalin surges through my veins, my mind goes blank and I am once again engulfed by the crackle of gunfire emitted from my speaker.
I am submerged into the cyber world again, the only thing through my mind is the killing of another opponent. My bloodshot eyes see no more than the projected images in the monitor, I am blind to all else. My muscles and numb from sitting in the same position for hours, my backside hurts, my lips are dry with thirst, my face pale as death, my stomach aches for the much needed food that I lacked since hours ago.
The soiled clothes seemed to wrap me in a suffocating coat of annoying sweat. The first effects of claustrophobia strikes me, I shiver and tremble helplessly, the lagging computer screen further irritates me. I smash the mouse down on the table in a fit of unrestrained anger.
I drop back onto the hard stool, settling down in deep breaths. Consciousness slowly comes back to me. The sun had long since passed beyond the horizon and there I still sat, in the solitary darkness of my room. I awoke from my semi-consciousness, feeling the hunger in my famished stomach, the shivering of my weak and tired fingers, my eyes are bloodshot and sore. I stumble out of my room, falling to my knee, taking in the irresistible aroma of food.
I am the computer addict...

Life~Replayed
Jiang Haolie

Fight of the Mass Noebok

2009-10-10T15:27:00.004+08:00

This is a possible sneak preview of the online story which will be released after The Qiu Connection. The story is still not named for security purposes that I feel is necessary after all the stolen previews at the Qiu Connection blog.
Here it goes:

With the Noebok in his iron-strong hands, Alpha directed all his remaining energy into it, bringing out forks of bursting lighting from the front of the Noebok. Beta, his opponent suffered the full blow of the lighting flying across the hallway, smashing back-first into an unforgiving wall and slumping to the ground.
With some dying electricity sparkling around him, he got up, grimacing. He reached to his back, drawing out his Noebok and with deadly precision, returned a salvo of forked lightning. Alpha held his Noebok in a shield-like gesture, saved from the electrocutive forks of the lightning thanks to the Noebok that absorbed the lightning, harnessing it into an orb of pure darkness, with dark energy from Alpha surging through it, coercing the orb into a climatic sizzle of power before releasing it mercilessly.
A ear-piercing boom followed the "invisible fist" that struck Beta. Fire engulfed his robes as he landed forcefully on the ground. The mystical power of the Mas gathered him up, providing him with a surge of invigorating power.
He leaped to his feat, only to be struck down by another firm but less-powerful "fist". Reaching for to the Mas for more strength, he burst forward, Noebok blazing in his hands, striking down relentlessly on Alpha. A steady, glowing blade emitted forward from the Noebok, like some sort of sword, the Noebok itself, being the hilt of the sword.
Raw power called for in him, and he surged forward, striking down repeatedly on Alpha without mercy. Bringing out the full unrestrained wrath of his vicious attacks. The dark side grew in him, the light of the light side receded into oblivion.
He gave no chance of counter-attack.
Without warning, Alpha struck back, his Noebok blade cutting straight across the left knee of Beta. Beta slumped to the ground with a piercing scream of pain, his attacks stalled. Alpha stood before him, the Noebok blade within striking distance of his neck but yet restrained himself.
Beta kneeled on the ground, with one leg, and two hands to support him. He awaited death. Fear of it dawned upon him. "Tell it to me! And you shall live..."
Beta looked up into the virtue-filled eyes of Alpha. In one final act of defiance, he gather his saliva and spit, missing Alpha entirely.
Without further hassle, Alpha severed the head off. It rolled away and a moment later, the disdain torso bowed forward, before dropping to the ground as if paying final respect to its slayer.

Life~Replayed
Jiang Haolie

Star Wars: The Virtue

2009-10-07T17:17:00.005+08:00

To many people across the world, the Star Wars saga is just another science fiction movie based on the creativity of George Lucas and kept alive by its over-a-million-strong fans across the globe.
Never did anyone know that the low grade Star Wars episode IV would even be one of the greatest blockbusters of decade when it appeared in the cinemas. Many sci-fi fans preferred the more down-to-Earth Star Trek and many also never expected Star Wars to be an instant hit. And it did just that, so much so as to be filmed in five more motion pictures which would finish the saga and followed up by over a hundred Star Wars novels written by dedicated authors, thousands of intricately designed merchandise from Lego sets to figurines, from starfighter models to action figures costing over a hundred dollars and supporting the various Star Wars organizations with eternal cash flow.
Though the Star Wars quality has improved tremendously and the increasingly growing fan clubs like Hyperspace and the 501st Legion, many fans love the Star Wars for reasons that are largely shallow. Some stating that they are fans simply because of the action, otherwise simply because of the handsome actors.
I love Star Wars. I love Star Wars so much that I do not even own a single piece of Star Wars merchandise, so much so that i do not even possess a Star Wars DVD, but what i have is Star Wars wallpapers, screen savers and ringtones.
Star Wars to me is an inspiration, a form of escapism and yet a startling and innovative rethink of reality. The Force is strong with me and for that, I love Star Wars for its in-dept creation of an entirely unprecedented sort of philosophy never seen in any other movie of its time. It speaks of a never-ending struggle between evil and good, the typical plot but with a tinge of extraordinary creativity that makes this sure-fail plot a sure-win one.
George Lucas was greatly influenced by Buddhism and thus, inspired from Buddhism created the Force. Of course spirituality and philosophy of Star Wars is not the only pressing reason why i am heavily-obsessed with it.
There is still the breath-taking art or Star Wars where dedicated and talented concept artist like Ralph McQuarrie whose breath-taking sketchs and paintings that simply takes your breath away. The concepts kept Star Wars alive, with ever-changing concepts by a council or artist who bring forth their ideas, take from each others ideas, and finally put together a character or object with everything it is supposed to personify. It is just so magnificient to see the minute changes between the different concept sketches of, example, Darth Vader, that when put all together is so entirely different and so much more personified between the final and the original sketch. That is what makes Star Wars alive.
Next of course is the ever growing multitude of Star Wars novels that fit flawlessly into the Star Wars storyline and time-line. The novels are continually written by many different authors and when finally published, their works never contradict with the other novels and films. This mass of novels is like novels of on another world, written by different authors about the same fictional world but with different and intriguing plots. Some may be romance, others action. Star Wars in itself is like a sea of history and knowledge that the authors just fish out and use and manipulate to fit into their story. Some authors even create thier own character that in the character's later life is featured in another novel written by another author. It is this sense of unity and passion that makes Star Wars alive.
Finally, Star Wars and its massive databanks of characters and ships, weapons and planets, are in fact metaphors of real world historical people, events or weapons. Interesting it may seem that even names of characters are taken from real-world people to furhter personify the character, whether a strong character or a charismatic one.
And that too completes my reasons why I am madly in love with Star Wars.
Star Wars is eternal. It is kept forever alive by concept artist, authors and fans. Star Wars is the very vessel of Science Fiction, brought alive by George Lucas, given to thw world to enhance and to revolutionize until what it is today - the vessel of Science Fiction, the visionary of the future and the inspiration to all the budding authors, artist, scientist, futurist leaders or the world and the ordinary folk who individually are extraordinary people!
Long Live Star Wars!

Life~Replayed
Jiang Haolie

The Broken Bone

2009-05-17T10:50:00.004+08:00

The X-Ray film flips in plastic-like motion, radiating playful sounds of it bending. On the the X-ray film, a rough anatomy of a skeleton is shown, distinguished in white from the black background. The collar bone is fractured.
I sat on the leather sofa, patiently awaiting the doctor's verdict, hoping that it was not a dislocation. Dislocations by all means was scary and rather disturbing. The doctors will 'pop' your bones back into place with the aid of a light anesthesia. I shuddered my head at the thought of it. I feel the bone jutting out. I let off a silently mouthed howl. The pain was unbearable but thankfully, it lasted no more than a split seconds. But each left scars of disturbing feelings in my mind.
Pain, it was a word with many definitions, with many varying degrees of intensity, as such i shall call it rather, more-or-less, slight, intense pain.
The doctor came out all smiles. It was confirmed a fracture. A full fracture, straight across the collar bone. It had to be supported by a sling.
Sleep would be difficult, typing will be more difficult, getting off a bed was even much more difficult.
I hear the bone squeaking...

The Galactic Civil Streaming Catechization

2009-05-16T11:55:00.005+08:00

Beads of cold sweat streamed down Vostin's face. With a shuddering left palm, he wiped it off and tried his very best to focus on the questions that barraged him in the monitor screen, but all in vain. The examination cubicles that each examinees sat in was never constructed with the thought of privacy; pin-sized cameras that filled the cubicles never failed to take each square centimetre of the cubicle without blind spots, so as to prevent cheating; sensors beamed at every inch of the examinees, observing his every bodily function or feelings, if need be, the examiner androids could even pick up thought signals in the brain. There was no privacy, not even in your mind.
Vostin's lack of privacy was nothing compared to that of the non-human or off-world examinees, which Vostin decided not to think about. Non-humans were second class in the galaxy, they were the majority of the sentient species and were despised greatly by the humans, they had no proper rights.
Vostin tried again to concentrate on the examination questions which now he was just randomly guessing with sweaty finger tips guiding the mouse cursor. Every sentient living thing or object were subjected to the examination on their coming of age of which in human terms was fourteen Earth years old.
And Vostin's age was way above that. He was forced to take the examinations only after non-corrupted law enforcers and police androids stormed his apartment. He had been living comfortably under the corruptive power of his father before that but after he had when missing on a flight to some star system, he lost everything. And Vostin might also lose his caste standing should he not achieve the proper level of points in his examination and that was what that was tearing at him for the past two months. This examination held at stake everything for all examinees, and it was an extreme meritocratic scheme put up by the android governors.
Many hated it, humans and non-humans alike, but they still had to take the end verdicts and settle into their more poor or more lavished caste societies. Currently though, Vostin was hyperventilating. Stress and fatigue was tugging at him. His vision blurred and his hand was numb. The seconds to the end of the examinations ticked by and he still had fourteen questions left.
Ten seconds.
Who is the current third leftist reform governor?
Who started the Great War of Earth?
Five seconds.
What was the aftermath of the asteroid bombing of Earth IV in the Eastern Solar Conflict?
Name the five non-human races involved in the Second Spice Conflict?
What is the largest export of New Mars?
The bell rang, the screen when blanked, leaving only the expressionless words, "Thank You!" on the screen. The locked cubicle unlatched and Vostin walked out, white in his face and shivering with fear, absolutely silent.
He imagined himself as a cleaner, or better, a blue collar worker, he could not do so. It was a disgrace to his family name. His family had been one of straight aces for generations, and he was the first in generations to break it.
He knew that at the second his results were out, law enforcement androids would confiscate objects and privileges that were not for his appointed caste, that would include his apartment, and even his toothbrush or if he had a wife, his wife too. But she had a choice to choose between following her husband to his new caste or just stay in her current caste. Females were more ambitious and work-related these days, and they usually stayed in their own caste without as much as even missing their spouses.
Vostin slumped against the elevator doors. By the time the results were out, he could do so much as step near the elevator doors. He knew he would be a factory worker. He could not take the disgrace. His heart sunk in despair. He wanted to end it all. End the suffering. End the pain. He stepped out of the docked elevator into the observatory bowl at the very top level of the examination centre. From there, he saw a three-hundred and sixty view of the capital. Skyscrapers leaped in to the sky, crowing the sky above to hundreds of floors high. Massive anti-gravity system (AGS) floating billboards filled the space between skyscrapers while grid-like structures of AGS traffic flow among the towers, hundreds of feet from the ground. Orbital reflective mirrors blocked out the sun, casting the capital in twilight. Lights beamed through the millions of windows that scattered throughout the boundless metropolitan. It was a city of steel, glass and concrete.
Vostin looked down at the street below. The pedestrians seemed no more than molecules from that height. Vostin stepped out of the observatory and he was immediately sucked away into the air by strong solar winds. And he plummeted downwards faster than he thought he was. Tears welled up in his eyes as the ground got nearer and bigger towards him. And he hit the ground.
The impact blew a crater on the tiled pavements, the blood splattered for metres and the bone could not be distinguished from flesh. The city-goers around the crater fainted or vomited and then fainted from the gruesome sight.
Away into the night, the sound of sirens on AGS police vehicles echoing against the cold world of steel,glass and concrete, a neon AGS billboard stated down the names of the people who were promoted to higher castes...and Vostin's name was on it...