#13 WHAT FUTURE LIES (YA sci-fi)

Seventeen-year-old Christopher Smith never had much of a life, so when a beautiful time-traveler with rainbow-colored eyes kidnaps him, he thinks that's as crazy as it gets.  Not even close.  His kidnapper, a warrior named Isabeau, brings Christopher to a medieval-inspired future where knights ride AI-enhanced hover bikes and impermeable energy barriers protect walled cities from the wastelands outside.

Then Christopher meets the king, who looks just like him.  The king says it's coincidence and that he needs Christopher as an occasional body double.  A bit odd, true, but Christopher's too distracted by this amazing world (and Isabeau) to delve too deep.

But after Christopher's first public appearance goes violently wrong, he falls in with a group of rebels and learns the truth: the world outside is alive and well.  Then comes the biggest bombshell: Christopher's actually an android.  Hidden in the past to avoid detection, Christopher was to be the king's new, undying body when the time was right.

Christopher, however, has other plans, like helping a city forge its own destiny and forging his own with an amazing rainbow-eyed girl.  To do all that (and to avoid being body-snatched) he'll have to seize the role he was made for – by replacing the king.

WHAT FUTURE LIES is complete at 83,500 words. Thank you for your time and consideration.

FIRST 500 WORDS:

My first run-in with Isabeau wasn't exactly "meet cute." More like "meet truly bizarre."

The last bell had rung, and I was walking across the parking lot thinking about my amazing evening plans. Namely, whether I should study for my chemistry test before, during, or after writing that 5-page paper about Macbeth and…there she was. Leaning against my junker of a car, and tapping her fingers rhythmically on the hood. The sun painted the waves in her burnt red hair with streaks of gold.

I cleared my throat. "C-Can I help you?" Lame, I admit, but I didn't have a lot of experience talking to beautiful girls. Or any girls, really.

Her eyes locked onto mine with an electric jolt. They weren't blue or green or hazel or brown or violet – they were all of those at once, encircling her pupils with slivers of color that spiraled into her soul. "What did they call you?"

I did a mental double-check. Yep, I had heard her right. "Excuse me? What did who call me?"

"Your parents." There was the slightest of pauses between the words – barely a hairs-breadth – but I noticed.

"If that's your unique way of asking my name, it's Chris. Well, Christopher. Christopher Smith."

She gunned me down with those mesmerizing eyes. "You don't look like a Christopher Smith."

What a surprise. "Yeah, I get that a lot. My father's American, but my mother's Japanese. I know I take after her side more, but—"

She held up her hand for quiet. "I am well aware that the melting pot culture of twenty-first century America allowed for people of differing ethnic appearances to have names of seemingly divergent derivation. I was referring to the names themselves: Christopher, coming from the Greek name Christophoros, combining Christos or Christ with phero, meaning to bear or carry. Thus, 'bearing Christ.'"

"What do you—?"

"Then you have Smith, deriving from the word smitan, meaning 'to smite,' implying it originally referred to a soldier and not an ironworker as commonly believed. Two names: one denoting hard labor, the other carrying an overture of violence. Neither of these attributes seems to suit you."

I realized my mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut. "O…kay." What do you say to something like that? Yeah, like I'm sure your name is soooo much cooler? Or maybe I'm sorry, did you just insult me using Ancient Greek? I settled for the truly amazing comeback of: "So, what's your name?"

"It doesn't matter, since you won't remember me, but I suppose I should give you something to call me in the meantime." She scrunched up her nose in thought. I tried to ignore how cute it made her look. "You can call me Elizabeth. That's a common name, isn't it?"

"Yeah, sure." My brain caught up with her words. "Wait, why won't you give me your real name? And why won't I remember you?"

"Not important." "Elizabeth" walked around to the passenger side. "So, are you ready to go?"