==========================
                 OUR MOTHER by Michele Lepa
                 ==========================

Winner of the Fluffy Trophy(R) 1998:
  Best Non M&S Musing
  Best Fanfic 1998
       (Melody Morgan Carter, xduchess@freemail.it)
  
  "This story is based on the characters and situations cre-
ated by Cris Carter,  Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox Broa-
dcasting. Used without permission and no infringement is in-
tended. All other contents are copyrighted to the author..."
  
      ------------------ Our Mother ------------------
                 by M. Lepa MaSlider@aol.com
  
  My earliest memory  was of  the voices droning  in my ear:
facts,  figures,  duties and punishments.  My clone brothers
and I were taught our duty.
  We are the culmination  of a great  project. The pinnacle,
the  perfect  scientists  intended  to  complete  the  great
project.
  Together we move in perfect unison, cogs in this great ef-
fort created to fulfill its duty.  No vestige of humanity to
prevent our accomplishing the  goal for which  we were crea-
ted.  Like  the other groups  we  create  and train  our own
brothers to carry on the work.
  Our lives are as swift as our growth.  Already my earliest
brothers have  been  eliminated  as  their efficiency wanes.
Our/my access to the many years of project records is by ne-
cessity  complete.  All  the aspects of  our creation hidden
until my  clone brother investigated  in a  moment of simple
curiosity.
  One unanticipated aspect of our nature  is  the effects of
strong emotions on us.
  It would be nearly impossible for us to function efficien-
tly if every one of the others thoughts  constantly intruded
-- so perhaps its for the best that only at moments of grea-
test emotion and stress  do  we  feel  our other's thoughts.
Our overseers never suspected. Together, we alone share cer-
tain revelations - brief moments.
  Moments of great fear or great joy.
  Or in my curious clone brother's case - both.
  In  that single instant I/We  discovered the  truth of our
mother and her fate.  It was then that we  decided that even
the great project must wait while we seek some  way to avert
her terrible fate.
  It was difficult moving against the  unbreakable imperati-
ves of our programming to seek out some hope for  their ter-
rible fate.  I  investigated  alone.  Thus far,  none of the
other groups seem to  recognize our group is  diverging from
the plan. Slightly. Just enough to offer hope for the doomed
mothers of our kind.
  If discovered,  we hope that I will be considered an aber-
ration, improperly programmed.
  ----------
  It was an  indescribable pain  to  actually  see her, meet
her,  be near her.  I could scarcely bear to look at  her. I
wanted so to cry out. "Its me. Mother, don't you know me?"
  "But why should she?  How could she even imagine we exist.
And why would she care?  She could certainly never  want us.
Its unbearable being in the same room with her  and not spe-
aking." My others agree, we will never let her know.
  -----------
  I hear the footsteps of my death approach and reach vainly
out to my others for comfort.  Foolish.  There is no comfort
there,  then  I see for an  instant that  tired face bending
over me  in a dirty  alleyway and know an  instant's foolish
longing.
  "Pray for us sinners, now, and in the hour of our death."
  Strange how human superstitions cling to even the most ra-
tional mind.  We've all wondered how a brilliant sceptic and
scientist like our mother could adhere to an outdated bit of
tribal superstition. She's a Catholic. Worshiping, something
without logic. Following a dead god and his holy mother.
  Would she pray for us?  Her lost boys? Am I an abomination
in her eyes? Can there be something more - for all of us?
  I sit here in this dark  room looking  towards death, only
my brothers and the uncaring hunter hear my cry.
  "Mother...."
  ----------
  The End


--,--'--,(@
rchived with author consent
by Melody Morgan Carter (Monica) xduchess@freemail.it
on http://www.angelfire.com/mo/nica