Multiplicity
Author – A Horse Called Hwin
Archive – Anywhere – if you could tolerate it.
Genres – Qui/Obi, Humor, Parody, Romance, Comedy, Kids/Family, Science Fiction/Fantasy
Rating – PG-13 (for cussing words)
Summary – Better living through cloning. Qui-Gon thought getting himself a clone would save himself from the heavy loads of work, but what he does not know, is the clone is thinking about exactly the same thing…
Warnings – Uh…perhaps none? By the way, this is a slash (Qui/Obi) fiction.
Spoilers – Nope – at least to my knowledge.
Disclaimer – I hereby declare that I am only torturing the characters with my twisted mind and there is no profit made.
Feedback – I could sense the peace and kindness in you, and the Force tells me that you are such a generous person that you won't begrudge me the reviews.
Author's Note – This story was inspired by the movie Multiplicity (1996). The songs used in the story are Can You Feel the Love Tonight from The Lion King and Bella Notte from Lady and the Tramp.
To Boss Aayla, a generous mistress to serve.
Chapter 1
Qui-Gon leaned back into his chair with a deep sigh – he'd been working for eighteen hours today and he felt sore in every part of his body. He'd got a decent place in the Order (a Jedi Master) and an excellent Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, which made him think his life was perfect. Yeah, life was beautiful then.
But that was all in the past. This year Master Yoda and Master Mace Windu seemed to be determined to make his life miserable: they forced him to accept the position of sorting all data into different categories. Qui-Gon still remembered that damned conversation in the Council Chamber clearly as if it just happened yesterday…
"What do you think of your life now, Qui-Gon?" Mace asked sincerely with concern.
"Why are you so concerned now, Mace?"
"Why shouldn't I?" Mace arched an eyebrow, "I am a Council Member."
"Answer Master Windu's question immediately, you will, Qui-Gon." Master Yoda said impatiently.
"Well, of course there's nothing to be complained about." Qui-Gon answered with suspicion.
"You mean…perfect?" Mace rubbed his chin idly.
"Kind of like that." Qui-Gon had a bad feeling about this.
Mace and Master Yoda looked at each other with a smile and nodded to each other. As Qui-Gon was about to ask why they looked so untrustworthy, Mace said seriously to him: "We are pleased to inform you that you've got a new job now, Qui-Gon."
"A new WHAT!" Qui-Gon's eyes widened in horror.
"Your new job is to sort all the data we've received into different categories."
"ALL the data!"
"Precisely." Mace smiled, "Because you're the only applicant we've interviewed so far who claimed his life to be perfect."
"Hold on for a moment." Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes, "Since when did I become an applicant?"
"Signed your name on the DONATE! Help the people who need you! Form, you did." Master Yoda smiled smugly, "And the application agreement form for this position was on the back of your form."
Qui-Gon gasped in revelation, then he gritted his teeth with anger, "So you used my good-heartedness to lure me into this trap?"
"Don't make it sound like we're evil, Qui-Gon." Mace grinned in triumph, "It could be anyone to get that particular form – you're just unfortunate enough to be that person."
"Holy Force!" Qui-Gon exclaimed, "How long will I be stuck with that damned job anyway?"
"Don't worry," Mace waved his hand reassuringly, "It's not long; only for twelve months."
"A YEAR!" Qui-Gon yelled, "What do you think I am, huh? A droid?"
"And may the Force be with you." Mace said, standing up to leave the Council Chamber with Master Yoda.
"Wait! You can't do that to me!" Qui-Gon shouted after them, while Mace and Master Yoda strode out of the Council Chamber, chatting happily and completely, intentionally ignoring Qui-Gon's existence.
"Master, are you all right?"
Qui-Gon woke up from the memory to find his Padawan looking down at him worriedly.
"Well, I'm fine, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand wearily, "Just tired…"
"I wish I could give you a hand, but I don't have the slightest idea of how to sort data. Did you finish your work today?"
"Yeah, I suppose so." Qui-Gon sighed, "I'm gonna be dead soon if I still continue my miserable life like this."
"Well, you can't blame anyone for that." Obi-Wan sighed as well, "I told you to always check the backside of any form before you sign, but you never listened."
"So you're saying this is MY fault?"
"Sort of – uh, wait. Yeah, this is your fault." Obi-Wan sighed again, "Maybe you could find someone to help you on this. You know, an assistant."
"But how am I supposed to find that person? This is the most exhausting and boring job EVER existed in the Jedi history!"
"Too bad, Master. But it's your job, so you'll have to find a way yourself." Then Obi-Wan yawned and led his deep-in-thought Master to the Master bedroom.
"Good night, Master. From the painful and helpless look on your face, I know you're gonna have difficulties on sleeping tonight. So I suggest you to count Banthas."
Qui-Gon snorted, "I thought you already knew counting Banthas is never useful."
"Well, since you're the one who will have problems in sleeping, so it's entirely YOUR choice to decide to count Banthas or not. Sleep tight, Master." Obi-Wan kissed his cheek gently and went to his own bedroom.
Qui-Gon continued his contemplation about finding an assistant. He knew it was almost impossible to find someone to help him, so he must find another way to help himself. To be honest, there was only half month left, so he could stand the exhaustion – he was a Jedi Master after all. But there was something else in his mind that pressed him to finish the work faster than ever.
Then a thought struck him all of a sudden.
"Good day, Qui-Gon." Master Smokieleed Jojoba greeted Qui-Gon with a benign smile, "What can I do for you?"
"Smoky, I know this sounds ridiculous." Qui-Gon hesitated a moment, "Can you…clone people?"
Smokieleed stared at him for a moment, and then slowly nodded his wrinkled head, "Yeah, I can, though not as perfect and optional as the Kaminoan products. But why did you ask?"
Qui-Gon swallowed, "Because…I…kind of need a…clone." He finished the sentence difficultly.
Smokieleed gaped at him for a longer moment, then finally said, "Might I know the reason?"
"Because if I don't get one as soon as possible, Smoky, you'll only see a Qui-Gon ghost floating around here soon." Qui-Gon said plaintively.
"All right." Smokieleed sighed, "But I have to warn you: the clones I make are not like the Kaminoan ones – we can't decide their characters or make them more or less docile or change their growing speed. I can only make a clone that has exactly the same age of yours and we won't know what his personality would be like until he is done. Is that okay with you?"
"Of course!" Qui-Gon said in relief, "Smoky, you're really my savior!"
"Wait till you see your clone, then decide if you should thank me, Qui-Gon." Smokieleed said anxiously, "Give me thirty minutes, and you'll have your clone."
"How fast!" Qui-Gon said in exhilaration.
Smokieleed gestured Qui-Gon to follow him into his No. 2 Secret Lab and told Qui-Gon to stand on a metal board of a complex machine. Then he powered up the machine and blue rays shone from the mechanism around Qui-Gon and right through him. Qui-Gon saw the screen near him begin to display the structure of his brain. But then Smokieleed blocked his view as he started working on the machine.
Thirty minutes later, a human figure began to form on the table in the center of the laboratory – from head to toes, gradually. And a man that looked exactly like Qui-Gon was lying on the table, asleep.
Qui-Gon looked at his clone in amazement and stepped down from the metal board he'd been standing on, "You're really something, Smoky."
Smokieleed shrugged and covered a blanket on the sleeping clone, then said in weariness: "Now we'd better pray that your clone doesn't have a terrible personality, Qui-Gon."
As he was saying, the clone woke and sat up in confusion: "Huh?"
"Holy Force…" Qui-Gon studied his clone for a while, marveling at the resemblance between them.
"All right, pal," Smokieleed said to the bewildered clone, "You're here because you're a clone I've just made and I'll call you Qui-Gon #1. And this guy here," he pointed at Qui-Gon, "is the original, Qui-Gon Jinn. Got it?"
"I suppose so." Qui-Gon #1 frowned, "But why did you want a clone, sir?" he looked at Qui-Gon in confusion.
"First of all, you can call me Qui-Gon."
"Okay, Qui-Gon."
"That's more I like it. So I need you because I've got too much work to do and I really need someone to help me."
"Okay. What should I do?"
"Not so fast, #1." Qui-Gon sighed in relief and savored the moment of happiness, "You know my name?"
"Qui-Gon Jinn."
"Good. Then you will need to pretend to be me when you're doing my job, got it?"
"Yep."
"Now, I will teach you how to be me and there are also several rules we must follow."
Obi-Wan was having some nice, warm tea on the couch after he finally terminated the filthy fly that had been living with them for the last whole week. He absorbed the aroma of the tea in contentment as the door opened. He looked up to greet his Master, but what he saw were two Masters.
Obi-Wan's jaw fell and he only caught his cup in time before it fell off his hands.
"Ma-Master?" he stared at the two Qui-Gons before him in turn, not sure what happened. He knew that one on the left was his Master – from his typical facial expression, but who was that man beside him?
"Easy now, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon said reassuringly, "Let me introduce you to each other." He gestured to #1, "Obi-Wan, this is Qui-Gon #1." He gestured to Obi-Wan, "#1, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my Padawan."
"Qui-Gon #1?" Obi-Wan's eyes widened in disbelief, "He's your CLONE!"
"Sure." Qui-Gon nodded smilingly, "You said I ought to find myself an assistant, so here he is. And he's going to take over ALL of my work! I'm free at last!"
"But what will YOU do?"
"I've been working for eleven and a half months now, so it's break time! I'll enjoy my finally-normal life now…" Qui-Gon looked at the ceiling dreamily.
"But does he know how to do your job?" asked Obi-Wan, pulling his daydreaming Master back to reality.
"No worries, Padawan. I've got it all set."
"Still one problem."
"What's that?"
"Where will he live?"
"Oh…" Qui-Gon suddenly realized the problem, "Uh…I think…" he turned to #1, "Do you mind sleeping on the couch?"
"Not at all, Qui-Gon." #1 said cheerfully, "It's good to see you have such nice quarters and a good apprentice."
"Yeah, I think so, too…" Qui-Gon smiled at Obi-Wan with affection and pride, which made the Padawan blush a bit. In general, Qui-Gon would slide an arm around Obi-Wan's waist and kiss his forehead – or maybe his lips, tenderly. But he didn't feel comfortable of doing that in front of his clone – he didn't tell #1 that he and his Padawan were in love.
After Qui-Gon settled #1 on the couch and gave him a cup of tea to relax himself, he went into the kitchen with Obi-Wan after him.
"He seems to have a different personality from yours, Master." Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, giving a glance to the living room.
"I noticed that, too." Qui-Gon grinned, "And that personality is called 'Mr. Nice Guy'."
"But you're really going to leave all the work to #1?" Obi-Wan said in concern.
"Well, only the sorting data part." Qui-Gon turned to look at his Padawan, "I still need to train you myself – the only difference will be that I will have MORE time to give you your lessons."
"Oh…" Obi-Wan shuddered at the thought, "I hope those lessons are not still about feeling the Living Force from a cockroach."
"Of course not. This time we'll feel the Living Force from an earthworm."
To be continued...
So...what do you think about it? Like it? Hate it? Or even wanna stone it to death? Anything will do!