Subject:      CODY: UNTIL U-2/r.1
From:         mithryl@walrus.com (Mithryl)
Date:         1997/03/04
Message-Id:   <5ffsaa$mmf@alice.walrus.com>
Newsgroups:   alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories,rec.arts.prose


                          UNTIL U-2/r.1

                      BY CODY ANN MICHAELS
                    (c.) All rights reserved

	"The way that I read the Bible, the status of that person before
God would not be any different from anyone born the old fashioned way." 
-- Ted Peters, professor of systematic theology at Pacific Lutheran
Theological Seminary, Berkeley.  NY Time s, 3/1/97

	Yes.  That was another story.  Constance Esterhazen.  One of the
prettiest women in Europe.  A walking Barbie.  She gave herself up
naturally to the process.  But she kept tight control on the rights. 

	A girl in a corset couldn't have been kept in stricter discipline. 
From time to time, she would put a woman up for sale.  But only after she
was strictly trained.  Yvette was her proudest creation.  A state of the
art slave.  Carefully programmed.  The countessa lit a cigarette. 

	The bidding was in the low millions.  Madame Chou glanced at her. 
She thought of what it would be like to have Connie, herself, in her
power.  It was an interesting fantasy.  The two women were deadly enemies. 
They smiled at each other. 

	Madame Chou knew the girl was a spy when she bought her.  It was
no secret that there is a spy program which keeps track of everything the
user does, and then reports back whenever the user logs on.  It comes
already installed.  But it operates in the ba ckground.  You don't even
know it's there.  It was part of the package.  But I'm not going to get
into politics. 

	I'd never hurt Krissy.  She looked at the tall, beautiful blonde
sitting next to her.  She's so lovable.  She took the girl's hand.  The
other girl smiled shyly.  Mystique reached over and jerked her skirt down. 
Krissy rubbed her thighs together.  Pleas ureably.  Mystique pushed one of
her breasts down under the top of the low cut bodice.  She still doesn't
quite understand the concept of a dress. 

	The girl had been cloned from Madame's nipples.  She was intensely
sensitive.  New clones were made from the Esterhazen bitch.  It was
illegal, but intensely profitable.  Knockoffs were soon being turned out
in Chinese sweatshops.  The new girls had none of the training the pretty
teenager had undergone.  But most of their buyers didn't care.  They sold
for five dollars on the street. 

	Often these girls were abandoned and were found wandering along
back country roads, trying to get picked up.  One of these was Elvira. 
The Ford slowed down.  The guy wanted a look at her.  She made a motion
with her hand.  He rolled down the window.  Sh e stuck her butt up in the
air as she bargained with him.  He told her to get in.  They found her
body in a stream. 

	Clone murders.

	If a clone is killed, does it matter?  Or will it matter a lot? 
Are you going to waste a lot of time over some stupid whore who got
herself diced?  He filed a report.  Her hands were tied behind her back
with wire.  She had a look on her face he couldn' t forget.  Her long
stringy hair.  Her broken nose.  What do some guys get out of this? he
wondered.  Makes you think.  This girl came all the way from Asia, and she
ends up like this, practically in a sewer.  The chemical plant was just up
the road.  He couldn't have picked a better spot.  The car drove almost
down to the water.  The girl got out and walked down to the edge.  Her
high heels made it hard to walk on the stony ground.  Isn't it lovely, she
said.  He came up behind her.  Out of the bushes.  Later, he took her car. 
What's her name?  Joan Black.  Clone mother.  Father's a negro.  Two
strikes right there.  Came out of the ghettos of Rio.  Never had a chance. 
Poor kid.  Better off dead.  She clawed her way to the top.  I'll never be
hungry aga in.  Somehww, I missed something back there.  It was a life. 
Something that actually happened to me.  Who was I?  I tried to remember
my mother.  She was killed.  My father was never around.  When he was, he
beat me.  I grew up fast.  Got big.  Men's toy s.  But at least I was
born, wasn't I?  I wasn't a clone.  Except by ancestry.  Before that, I
was alive.  I mean, wasn't I?  I can't help it my mother's a clone.  Oh,
I'm so ashamed. 

	A clone's like anybody else.  It's no big deal.  It's who you are. 
Everyone's got a little clone in him.  After all, they were here first. 
We're the ones without memories.  Don't make such a big deal.  They'll
find us.  They smuggled the two sisters in to the country.  From there,
they went on to San Francisco.  Where they picked up orders, and split up. 
See you around, Kel.  Bye, Code.  Keep in touch.  Their words drifted back
through memory, as each one was picked off.  She felt her cell sisters go
d own one by one.  Felt the bullet.  Screamed at the knife.  Until she
knew she was the only one left.  They were all dead.  Then she realized
one was about to be cloned.  Two were.  No!  They all went into the
juicer.  The next generation was a race of mon sters.  And all they knew
about was Clone.  Clone Jamieson.  Private Eye. 

	They were all looking for her.  She didn't know how many.  Olga's
daughter.  Elaine's brood.  The girls of 76.  That was the batch.  They
oozed toward her.  She had to move fast.  These were sophisticated young
ladies.  They would stop at nothing to devo ur her. 

	She slipped through one reality broach after another, seeking to
elude them.  What was she to them, she wondered?  Auntie Clone?  Second
cousin once removed?  Mother Load. 

	It was all too awful.  She took a job as a dancer in a club.  Most
of the girls were younger than her.  She danced like crazy.  They took her
out in the alley.  Shit. 

	What about schools?  How do you educate a clone?  Teach them about
democracy, and freedom.  Does a clone child get to sit with a real child
and how do you isolate them>

	She crawled back into the woods.  She wanted to get as far away as
possible.  Hide.  Never come out.  The shotgun blast had caught her in the
belly, making a mess of her chest. fucking cheap two dollar whore I'll cut
you the girl slammed her head agains
t the windowglass
he walked her down to the shore
what are you going to do
he tripped her and then dragged her into the water.
now, bitch
prepare to make him wither
she swung amnd hjot
funny face
just keeps going in and out
read your
and alll clear
sound the warning
hie rises
Poor Klaus
yes c\ause it's me
where's my present?
I want it now
I let her die there on the kitchen floor
I saw where she went down
and what she did to herself
but it wasn't me
I didn't do it
he brought her head up[
now slut
fuck you
she spit in his face
she went back under
soon she began to 
bbreathe like this
we're getting hubble come in telescope
and the girl pounded up and down on him
desperately fucking his toten pole
It energized her.
she came back swinging
this time, her oppenent went down
she was winning
she hit im again
It was the first time she had ever fought off a rape
but in the end it was futile.
He had her anyway.
She just looked more desperate.
Again her head was pulled up.
Had enough?
Weakly, she shook her head
Her face smashed against the bottom.
He held her head in the rocky stream until her body went limp.
Then he pulled her up.

He held her up on her feet and walked her further out into the water.  She
started to struggle like a fish out of water. 
Then she kicked.  He threw her into the rocks.

Her body snatched sideways.  She was fucking it up.  Come on, Cowboy, ride
me.  Again and again she was held down, until it seemed that the only way
to get a breath was to spit into the water as if it were the face of the
Lord. 
In this way, she learned how to breathe underwater as if she had gills.
They never play it right.  He went on to the next.
School girls out for a hike.  He couldn't have picked a better spot.

One of the girls was taken down immediately, while the rest were left to
hang there with their clothes off. His was an uncompromising vision of how
she would look crafted out of the finest materials as if one were making a
dress.  Soon, when we have learned to transplant brains, yours will be put
into your Clone and you will live again as a new person.  Thus, s he
escaped annihilation for many centuries.  The clones were given the old
brain while she kept the new.  The brain was a hologram of what could be
and what could not.  With each division, the hologram became smaller. 
Until it was fragmented into a milli on million parts.  In all parts of
the univers.e Out here among the stars.  Each star having a piece of her
soul.  And the stars burned in the galazies, each a cluster of who she was
emanating outward from the big bang.  That's what they called it.  The Big
Bang.  When the first clone came off the drawing board.  That's what they
called her, the Prototype.  Ez,ermaalda Mach One.  Then there's Prime
Time.  Data's Mother.  Dada Cakes, you are one mean mock up.  Let's take
her out and destroy her.  See what she can do.  Test her to the limits. 
Tight curve.  Broken hip.  A little more on the shuttle.  We're already
missing a couple of letters.  Make her fight for her existence.  Give her
Machi I.  She came out of the stable, prancing and pawing.  Down, bitc h. 
He whipped her buttocks as he rode her around the stable yard.  Pick up
your feet.  Your feet, I say.  A mixer was just the thing.  But what was
the object?  Fill out her form with some of those.  He dropped the binarys
into the human genome.  The wor k of a minor diety.  Demi Urge.  How are
you?  Haven't seen you in a coons age.  Here for the shooting?  We always
do.  Come for the grouse.  That's a nice filly.  What do you call her? 
Slut Cakes.  They laughed as the innocent teenager blushed. 

	Prettily.  Casting eyes down.

	A gaggle of school girls, out for a walk.  And only you survived? 
Don't you think that's a little hard to believe?  No, sir.  It happened
sir.  We were set upon by a large bat.  Next ye'll be telling me of
vampires.  Get away, girl.  Go about your busin ess.  She pushed down her
dress and slowly backed off.  Big eyes staring.  Anime eyes.  Huge, dark
pools of fear and mystery. 

Go on down, slut.

The countess nearly stumbled on the stone steps as she was pulled
relentlessly downward.  Clones are just angels passing through on the way
to Hell.  For each clone dies his own death and many others.  A klone
takes off a lot of karma.  Klone us this day our daily bread, and lead us
into Klonation.  The promise land, where Klones would forever be free. 
Some said it was just a story.  It didn't exist.  But she believed
religiously.  The god of all Klones would save her.  Wouldn't he?  What
was on the othe r side of the big bang?  Klone Heaven.  It's got to be. 
Clones have their own heaven.  I'm telling you.  It's over there on the
other side of the universe.  But then where is heaven?  Our heaven.  The
one we're going to?  Where is it if Klone Heaven is w here it ought to be? 

	Wow.  Got that?

	A Klone is where I want to be.

	Heaven ain't going there.  Heaven.  The more clones you kill, the
more there are in Kleven.  Oh, I just hate that.  Who's keeping score?  We
have polls.  Then what does this mean?  It means there's a war on.  The
more you kill the stronger they become.  So it's necessary for you to die
in order to increase our stregnth beofe the lord.  Remember, the Lord
loveth a cheerful giver.  So put it in the plate and get it over with. 
Kill her. Candy was blown to pieces.  She couldn't help it.  She took the
hit.  What are you doing here?  This is my story./ Get out.  She sucks
everything in.  Everything is always coming back on her.  She drains. me. 
She absolutely drains me.  Shit! 

	The countess was blown to smithereens.  It was a direct hit.  She
scattered to the univere like a neptune bomb in a supernova exploding into
consciousness.  She was a supernova exploding into consciouness.  She ws
such a rotten speller.  Her enetic code was running out.  Of the camera. 
That's all we do, you know?  Read the code.  Only memory makes it
meaninful.  But memrory is capricioous and she soon forgot some of it.  So
the code was constantly doubling back upon itself as it wound through the
gene until there was no room left like a worm

Candy realized she could read her own geneome
right down to the last ti over spctical
advanced languarge no one can understand
Candy was full of it
Constance kicked her in the head.
My story, slut.
The Countess was not a Prime Clone.
She was one generation down from the Progenitor.
She did not know her prologue.
Counstance kissed her.  Then turned the screw.

The experiment was flushed down the sewer.  No one will ever know.  But
they bred like rabbits down there.  The rejects.  The perverts.  The ones
who came off the bottom of the tube.  The boot licking ass licking anciene
regime.  Bulgarians.  And Hungaria ns.  And all those tribes that produce
daughters like Oksana.  Pick it up, Clone.  She has a neme you know. 
Candy's clone neme was Cathy.  The countess slapped her again.  One more
time, cunt, and I'll rip it out.  The pretty young noblewoman was attache
d to a stake.  We burn her, don't we, General?  The skin of the twat that
bore you.  Give her a feel.  The haughty young aristocrat jerked forward
and began to beg for her life.  He strung her up and kicked the stool out
from under her feet.  Candy hung t here, swinging her tits.  Dull, cloudy
look in her face.  She heard a crash.  A door had closed to somewhere
else.  Her options were gettiong down there.  Urk. 

	The Countess waited for her to calm down.  Now seer.  The two
women faced each other across a great divide.  As if there were a mirror
between them.  She saw herself hang. 

Two golden showgirls.  Coming through.

She hit the glass and bounced off.  Nice try, Slut.  How about this.  He
caught her fist on his arm and shoved her head back. The spider had hung
her.  More was yet to come. 

If you have a supply, you're getting it.  You have what it takes.  Just
keep going.  Don't look back.  Trust me.  I'm seriousfs. Sghe began to
tthing aobout whats right for her. 

do you think II should do it i suppose so, I always onew to have wone of
those, like a lost puppy, they just abandoned it.  What do you thing. 
Shall we take it home.  Get lost, Clone.  yeah.  I forgot.  I'm me.  I'm
the one who'lse typling not the screen.  That s why there are so many
mistakes.  I don't look at the screen.  except to get the finger place
ments.  and now and then check to see if I'm in the right palce. I am not
dual. 

IU an ne'

I amn  the one.
The one they all speak of when they think of me.
Clone speak is different from ordinary Ebonics.
It should be taught in schools just like English or Spandish

But in ordinar to get tahta point acrosss, it has to be made into standard
English Ity's hard to type and not look.  But it can be mastered.  One
just does not look at the screeen.  AFter awhile, it is turned off. The
really good ones turn it off.  Fly blind.  Not look.  Type without a
screen.  Others turn it down or render the o colors inan obnoxious
combination like sea greeen and bright red root hred The resuls can be
interesting.  Or totally puerile.  Suddenly you are your own self.  But
then you tend to look at the keeys and you notice how many times t is
typed. 
  You need to look somewhere else.  like the ceiling  or out the window.  

its like zen  zen typing.

suddenly you are free.

A man withou a cclone is like a soul without a heart.

he does not know who he is.  He is like a man playing a n organ without a
scoure.  His kfingers beging to feel the key stroke and each time an
adjust ment is madke Before him is ahhuge screeen with al's picture on ti. 
he tries not to koook.  The professor4 looks back.  It is time.  Amigao
Shootout on Kalos.  The little island in the aegean where he first wrote
the book. 

nopw he was interested.  He was almost communicating with the old man as
their eyes met.  Now we will really begin. 

Obi Kanobi, how are you?

Don't call me that name.  

I am Al.

Big Al.  Gotcha.  And this is where they found the gril, wandering on the
beach.  Arriadne.  How;'d she get here.  Her boy friend left her.  She's
dead.  The professor put away his notes.  Now we will begin.  She waited.
What's he thinking?  He must be thinking something?  Like, what is this? 
Would you publish my book, please, pretty please with sugar on it. it will
improve sales immensely.  We might even be able to make a seque into Moon
and mars.  Lounge.  Lizards.  Coming up out of the mud.  Clone sisters. 
How'd we get here?  Evolution.  Here memory gets a little tight.  And I
have tons of other stories i f you like those.  I can tell you anything. 
Al.  Big Al from the south side.  Nunzio's boy.  Second son of second
fiddle.  Come out of your web, Al.  Make me real.  Said the spider to the
fly.  It was a nice story, but now let me tell you one.  In the be ginning
was the Clone.  The one we all came off of.  There was no onther.  No
other thread survived.  I'm telling you.  It was just us.  Those others
are extinct.  Read on sister, tell us what it was like.  The Clone Saga
heald the story of the clones, ho w they came here and where they went.  I
can type much faster when I don't have to look at the screen.  Almost as
fastas I can think. 

Al stared back at me.  Get lost, punk.

No, Al, I can do things for you.  Trust me, Al.  I won't let you down.  
Get your story straingt.  Are you or not.

I am.  I swear I am.  Please believe me.

Where are you Al, talk to me.  Come in storm king, make me real.  Zeus
looked at you with one eye and directed the other into the shadows.  He
was looking past me at the gunsligher in t the mirror, trying to figure it
out. 

A spiral hesxagon wound ito the cave where the castle was buildt

They led her eown intpo the pantheon, this was not the way they came in. 
They came many milles throught ehe tunnels to get here.  All the way from
the Chateau She had to remember how to spell french.  Al never took his
eyes off her.  You're doing good , kid.  Now knuckle down.  Oh no, you
didn't.  They all begaca,e doctorates. you did, didn't you? 

I know it,, syou sound of a bitch
now I know why yoou were so scared all those years.

cowering in the shadows of your brothers accomplishments.  Your sun
brother and your wimp brother and your rffox brother.  All in yourur clan. 
The clans against the clones.  Suyperbowl sunday, 85

I won't print this.  Hones I won't.  Not until you're dead.  oh so that's
it. 

there is no one, is there.
i fell for it, hoook line and sinker
he pulled her out
now get up. we're going down town.

One way is to use the other screen, pointed away from you.

One might see it's reflections on the wall, the way that he was doing here
get it out of the way so we can get on with it.

Who are you, he asked.  Peering into the relections of the stream.mn
men have asked that of the other since time began

who is the face in the srtream that looks so much like one's own but never
gives anything back Candy looked up at him.  Afred D'Nunnzio.  She went
made and killed herself

Clone 2, opend a dimension unaccounted for in the eyes of the maker.  Make
another.  Do it.  What do you think I've been doing all these yoears with
youp little apes, how dare you refuse. kill the jhews He let a few live. 
Did it ever make you wonder what the jhewse did to deserve that. 

liek, would you want them in your neighborhood if you knew.

Like a child molester.  Do you want him around.  I'm not saying the jews
were child molesters, buit they did resist me. 

Now get stared.
Stupid little apes
Clone, I saly.  Klone.

Each ape made itself.  H it did not want to, but it did.  The Demi Urge
said it should. 

And so on.
But Gopd was in charge.
He who maaede the heaves and earth and the sta set the stars in the sky
And the mud in the tube
Each dollop was extrude out
on to a tray and each girl grew up wide and strong
cut
That's not in the script.  These are bimbos.  They are supposed to be stupid.

Don't you think we should throw in a few smart ones, Igor suggested. 
Victor hit him in the face.  Get back to your laboaratory foul fasced
fiednd

dLars schruggled off.  Like mupppets.
One goes.  Another one comes.  Hey earnien,m ]

The Earniead told the story of a puppet who had gone into the caves and
met the animals. of the forest and killed them. 
Later, he made clones to replace them.


He became a solar heroe
But Al cursed him awanydaywa and he was throwus into darkeness
baclk into the pot
Where does this end.  Without the tube there are no boundaries.
The universe just continues to run out
But the story goes on.
Forever
Al looked at him.  Earnie meets Big Al.

Hi.  I was waiting for you.

The streets of Haute Nendaz.  A lovely day for a shootout.  Lipton.  Mars. 
greeelye
Up behind the barracks

Claude settled in.  Jean Claude, I need a new bathroom put in.  But then,
you don't know who I am, do you Al?  Does the name Wild Bill Hickock not
ring a bell in your consciousness?  Now I know who I met on the mountain. 
The old man.  The image.  We crea ted a new world.  And we left it.  The
Swiss are still trying to figure it out.  Kevin and bob were two clowns
from the south side of Chicago.  Where you have roots, baby.  Ten volumes
is a little long for a biography, isn't it?  Babe.  Someone who red th ose
books woold know a lot about you, wouldn't they?  Your books contain the
secret of the universe, don't they?  Just like mine.  So how can two
people be in the same place at the same time?  Or so many of them.  They
can';t..  You would have a naked sin gularity.  Which is what we did. 
Noithing could escape.  We only made it out alive.  The rest are dead. 
You and me, Al, we escaped.  But the rest were talken up into the kingdow
of heaven.  Just you and me, Al, and all our clones.  Backing us up.  You
a lready did it, didn't you?  How many are there?  Little Alfreds out
there, each one waiting for his turn.  All packed into one little hole,
ready to explode.  Go nuclear nova.  God Big Bng.  Pop. 

And it all goes pop together.  All of them.  All that were always there. 
A Big Pop.  And the universe goes gooey like a pricked balloon.  Pop.  End
of Show.  Pop take me home and fuck me like a blowup doll that you're
afraid will go pop.  Fuck me gender,
 fudk me long, make me show that I belong

She was back at the mirror.  Watching the wordds come out.  They would see
the page and come to it, each one wanting to hear her story as it comes
out.  I've got to get to Haute Nendaz. The words explode in black on sky
blue.  I need a font that I can call myu opwn

oh, I didn't come.
did you have a good time.
I got distracted.
maybe next time
without her, the experiment fizzled.

	How were the others: Sean, Renos, Colette?  Jackie.  William
Burroughs.  That girl who came over with Ron.  George and Ed and Fred/. 
And my brother, Ed, what about him?  What's he doing here?  This was
supposed to be a private meeting.  He was uneasy, t he old don, he
couldn't quite put his finger on it, was it something he ate or was it
Colette?  Who else was there?  Ashley?  He married us.  Worst mistake I
ever made, but I got something out of ti?  These are good olives.  Tray
some.  He watched to see how many you took.  Don't be greedy, but get
what's coming to you.  Stand up to him.  Lie down, punk.  The old Sicilian
nose.  We were froim the north.  By the shipyards.  Was that a cave behind
his head?  Circe's cave./ Circe had a house.  Noxema lived in the cave. 
No wonder she had skin problems.  The mighty achillles ready to sale. 
What is this thing?  It's called a boat.  And you float in it.  So?  So
then you float across and kill everyone on the other side.  Neat, huh? 

What if it sinks.

Yoiu get anopther boat
I mean, what if there is no boat around
and yours stops floating
then you swim
and hope
you don't meet any sharks./
An image of the girl being fed to the pirhanna flashjed across his mind. 
What she had looked like going down The way she had tried to stop herself
was it a memory or just a wild idea
or a vision of the shape of things to come