Dream
His Master gazed into a tube filled with liquid, looked at a human forming within. At his creation.
And his creation, bathed in his Master's perfect mind, knew his Master's thoughts. The clone would not be rebellious, as his template had been. He would know his place and be content in it, knowing as much as he was shown and no more. He would never search for secrets, or ask the wrong questions, or say Master, this is wrong. You're not well. Let me help you.
There would be no other masters, no sister, no green-eyed creature to steal away his thoughts and passion. There would be no contrary desires at all. There would be only him. He would live directed by the benevolent mind of his creator, and so he would also die, when the time came. The clone would never leave him, not willingly.
Yes, his Master thought. His creation was good.
But - oh, where was the sting of risk, the challenge of teaching someone with their own life and loves to accept his! Despite his fidelity, his devotion, the clone lacked so much of that spark, that promise! Where was the joy in telling him 'You will be mine' for the first time, when this would simply be accepted as truth?
Disappointing. Disappointing. He would have to try to get the boy back. With a wave of his hand, his Master extinguished the light and turned away, withdrawing the perfect, overpowering clarity of his mind.
- and the clone was left alone in darkness.
And his creation, bathed in his Master's perfect mind, knew his Master's thoughts. The clone would not be rebellious, as his template had been. He would know his place and be content in it, knowing as much as he was shown and no more. He would never search for secrets, or ask the wrong questions, or say Master, this is wrong. You're not well. Let me help you.
There would be no other masters, no sister, no green-eyed creature to steal away his thoughts and passion. There would be no contrary desires at all. There would be only him. He would live directed by the benevolent mind of his creator, and so he would also die, when the time came. The clone would never leave him, not willingly.
Yes, his Master thought. His creation was good.
But - oh, where was the sting of risk, the challenge of teaching someone with their own life and loves to accept his! Despite his fidelity, his devotion, the clone lacked so much of that spark, that promise! Where was the joy in telling him 'You will be mine' for the first time, when this would simply be accepted as truth?
Disappointing. Disappointing. He would have to try to get the boy back. With a wave of his hand, his Master extinguished the light and turned away, withdrawing the perfect, overpowering clarity of his mind.
- and the clone was left alone in darkness.