Fragmented Lives The Parody Pieces Chapter 19: 18 Aftermath, an evangelion fanfic

======================================================================

Fragmented Lives (The Parody Pieces)

"Aftermath"

======================================================================

"Altered Lives (The Parody)" and "Fragmented Lives (The Parody Pieces)" are Copyright (c) 2003 by DBM. This work is an Amateur, Non-Commercial work by an Anime/Manga Fan. This work was created in the Spirit of the Copyright Exemptions regarding Parodies and Satire.

If you like my work, you may keep a copy for your own personal records, but you may NOT post it on any websites/newsgroups, NOR may you include it in any printed publication for sale/public distribution. If printing out a copy for yourself or a friend, you may reformat it (paragraph spacing, page-breaks, font and font size, borders, bold/italic, etc) to fit the paper you use, but please do not change any of the actual words or wording in the document.

Sole web-posting at FanFiction.Net - Author's E-Mail address on File.

======================================================================

Censorship Info and Disclaimer.

NOT Recommended for Children.

Intended for MATURE Audiences.

There are NO 'sex scenes', but, just like the original NGE series, the story will explore the results and side effects of such activities. Along the way, there'll be swearing, violence, drugs, Adult situations, and frank discussions of sex education/family planning information, as well as thoughts and opinions on the morals and ethics of sexual assault, dating, courtship, marriage, alternate sexualities, pregnancy, childbirth, parenthood, Family Values, etc.

======================================================================

Fandom Alerts and Disclaimer.

AU Alert (Alternate Universe).

OOC Alert (Out Of Character).

ACC Alert (Author Created Character).

SI Alert (Self Insert - Author appears in the story as a character).

SPOILER Alert (May 'spoil' surprises in the Manga and Anime TV/Movies).

' ' denotes thoughts.

" " denotes speech.

* * denotes emphasis, or electronic communication.

denotes other method of communication.

--- denotes letters deleted for censorship reasons.

======================================================================

Author's Ramblings - Events following the Final Battle. Still uncompleted, but hopefully still of interest.

======================================================================

Fragment - Aftermath.

Across the nation of Japan, people struggled with the dark truths revealed in the rubble of the NERVIS Base. Hardest hit were refugees from the City, war torn victims who had not only lost their homes, but in many cases their livelihoods, family, and friends as well.

The surviving NERVIS personnel were the hardest hit of all. The glorious cause they had devoted their lives to, had sacrificed so much for, had been revealed as a lie, a massive power grab by a secret conspiracy. Even though they had been unknowing tools and nothing more than mere pawns, they now found themselves an elite group of pariahs, the target of unwarranted hate.

NERVIS staff trying to leave the City ran up against a brick wall of officially imposed 'travel restrictions' on NERVIS personnel. A city-wide version of 'house arrest', NERVIS staff trying to leave the City were turned back. Even the injured were not exempt, and within the City, several 'Staff Only' wards sprang up to cater for the injured.

Law and Order disappeared, as what remained of NERVIS Security lost whatever authority it had along with its credibility. Stores were looted, stripped completely of such luxury goods as tobacco, alcohol, fashion, and Hi-Tech appliances.

Buildings left intact from the rigours of war burnt to the ground in what was supposed to be a time of peace, the fires of their destruction deliberately lit by the dishonest and deranged.

Military curfews were imposed, with 'free fire' zones established in most areas.

The City having died, its corpse having been robbed and gutted, the human locusts that swarmed through everything turned their attentions elsewhere.

Or tried to…

The flood of refugees from the doomed city found itself stymied as Local Authorities and a special UN taskforce took on the job of verifying just who was, or was NOT, NERVIS staff.

The 'Official Investigations' became little more than a 'Witch Hunt', an opportunity for newly self-appointed 'Champions of the People' to rise to power by casting other souls into Hell.

The world, so long deceived, was out for blood, and there was no shortage of souls…

NERVIS had employed most of the people in the City, in one way or another. If a High-ranking scapegoat couldn't be found in a timely manner, then a lesser-ranking one would scream just as well when thrown to the mob…

The fact that no one was now getting out of the city unless they took a thorough Lie Detector test proving their level of involvement, made the entire thing a Life and Death 'Catch-22' situation for those who desperately needed medical help.

Then NERVIS personnel patrolling the city started disappearing…

Some disappearances were a lucky few who managed to sneak through the no-man's land that encircled the city, others disappeared by 'going underground' to live in the remains of teh subterranean base. But by far, the majority of the diappearances were under 'suspicious circumstances'.

Rumours began circulating of 'Lynch mobs', and several assaults made it clear that NERVIS staff were probably safer in the rubble, tahn out in the Society they had been protecting.

The grisly reality of wounded NERVIS staff being murdered in their hospital beds, some butchered beyond recognition, only made the decision to 'voluntarily disappear' more reasonalbe and urgent.

The NERVIS staff hiding in the city, had to cope with a sudden 'lack of supply' from the outside world. The Official reason for the 'Unofficial Embargo' on goods entering the city was supposedly because the city was so dilapidated it had to be totally evacuated, and it made no sense importing goods into a soon-to-be Ghost Town.

The reality was more that the new 'Powers That Be' were trying to starve the last of the rats out of the rubble.

The Clones had been surprised at the reaction of the 'Powers That Be', as opposed to those of the General Public that the Clones had helped personally. Surprise turned to serious concern as reports of NERVIS personnel being 'lynched' proved factual.

In response, the Clones had moved Shakey, Mazurka, Aesir and several other NERVIS staff into the armoured Clone Zone where they would be safer. The UN Officials weren't happy about that, and when their demands for Mazurka and company failed, used the threat of 'House Arrest'. The Clones however, were politely adamant that their 'House Guests' would stay as long as they wished.

With the power the Clones had displayed in the Final Battle, no Nation, Government, or Official was willing to argue semantics, hence the current subterfuge of trying to starve them out.

Fat Chance…

Glando had not been made Commander just because he was the Evil B-----D most suited for the job. Glando had been a more than competent administrator, running the base with the proverbial 'Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove' (albeit a hand that often wore 'Brass Knuckles'…). Glando had seen to it that the Base ran properly, and that ALL of the emergency shelters had adequate stocks of food, water, and independent cooking and lighting appliances. The subterranean base had even more supplies stocked away in warehouses, awaiting orders for resupply to the shelters as needed.

At the rate the survivors were consuming supplies, there would still be enough 'leftovers' to keep them alive for more than a year, if rationed properly.

…And in the world of politics, a year was a VERY long time…

To Mazurka Kutsarug, former Operations Director of NERVIS, and now the leader by default of surviving NERVIS personnel, and Officer in Charge of Relief Efforts, it was TOO long…

======================================================================

Fragment - Phoenix.

As the political machinations ran their slow course, the death toll of the wounded in the City rose.

The crisis came to a point when Major Mazurka Kutsarug made a surprise visit to the UN Inspectors compound, her arrival announced by the flurry of questions a small flotilla of news teams fired at her.

"I'm here, you've got an hour," Mazurka gruffly offered, walking over to an unoccupied Lie Detector, "I've got things to do so don't waste my time…"

Attempts to get rid of the Media and take Mazurka into custody abruptly failed when several E.T. Fields flared into existence, taking up strategic positions around the room Mazurka was in.

…Like right in front of the doors and windows, and between the UN Inspectors and everyone else…

Not that the UN Inspectors didn't try to turn things into a P.R. victory for themselves. Their self-aggrandising blatherings backfired badly when Mazurka ignored their crooked questions, and used the Lie Detector to verify some comments the UN Inspectors DIDN'T want anyone else to hear…

By the end of a MOST INTERESTING hour, several of the UN Inspectors had either been arrested, shot while escaping from custody, or else had done the 'Honourable Thing' (and the far less painful and humiliating thing) and shot themselves.

With those that remained, Mazurka was able to thrash out a new deal for the derelict City. It would now act as an autonomous state, independent of the Laws of Japan, and directly under Mazurka's control. Her word would be Law, and would be enforced by NERVIS staff.

All objections to the new soverignty ceased when Mazurka asked the soon to be famous question, "Do you really want us to prove our claim by right of force?"

The sudden appearance of scores of heavily armed Clones and the *ELEVEN* AVES they alone controlled, put paid to any further dissent.

Mazurka's deal brought new life to the City.

The first step, was to end the 'Quarantine', and get Emergency workers in to finish Search and Rescue operations, and Construction crews to do what emergency repairs they could.

The sheer scope of the devastation required massive co-ordination. Construction crews worked alongside Paramedics, sifting through the wreckage. A grim task, usually finding too few survivors, and too many final remains of former citizens.

Clerks worked round the clock keeping what records they could on survivors and injured, the dead and displaced.

Doctors and Nurses worked until they dropped, falling prey to mental and physical exhaustion, the result of abusing Caffeine and other stimulants, in order to stay awake just a little longer and take care of another patient…

The repair of infrastructure was on an 'ad hoc' basis, most buildings were condemned outright and demolished, turned into relatively safe heaps of rubble. Power, Water, Gas, Sewage, these became uncertain commodities, and vast stretches of the City wound up with none of them.

Piece by piece a full picture emerged.

It wasn't pretty.

What parts of the City hadn't been physically damaged, were still affected by the damage done to the essential infrastructure systems of electricity, gas, water, and sewage. Then there were the 'support' services of communication, transportation, food preparation and garbage collection.

There was no way that the damaged City could safely support even a tenth of its pre-battle population. Accepting the grim reality of a potential epidemic spawned by the chaos, there was no choice.

Mazurka ordered a mass evacuation of the 'non-essential' population.

Military transports took refugees to whatever city was able to take them, the drone of engines a constant reminder of the stream of Humanity making it's way out of the damaged city.

It soon became apparent that the City would become a virtual Ghost town, inhabited only by Construction and Aid workers, City Hall clerks, and the remnants of the NERVIS forces.

Not that the bulk of NERVIS personnel could leave the city, even if they wanted to. Mazurka had not been able to get the 'travel restrictions' lifted for any but the injured. She had managed however, to get guarantees that the injured would be kept in 'Secure Isolation' until the particulars of their involvement could be established.

The Third step, involved the painstaking procedure of rebuilding some semblance of a City Heart, an Administration Centre, and one of the outlying Business Districts.

This was not 'economic nepotism' on the part of any of the City Administrators, but a well-thought out plan. The City heart had been built to serve the entire population of the City, but it was now long gone, a gaping hole in the earth's crust marked the spot where steel and glass towers had once soared into the sky.

The placement of the business district was relatively ideal. It was close enough to main roads on the City 'border' to cut down on transport needing to use inner-city roads, and had enough eating establishments and low-rise office buildings to serve as Canteens and improvised sleeping quarters. Being on the fringe had protected it from the latest battle, but luckily, not from former ones and the bulk of the buildings were brand new.

The conversion of the new City Centre needed to be run on a '24 hours a day' basis. By keeping the construction teams in small, well defined areas, the City Administrators had convinced the UN to 'relax' the trigger-happy curfew rules in surrounding areas. Accordingly, the construction zones were relatively free of any UN presence, although patrols frequently roamed the perimeters.

The plan worked, with the concentrated efforts yielding swift results. Camping stores became 'self-help' centres, their staff finding their expertise in high demand. Love hotels housed the construction workforce, and became Hospital wards for the injured. Restaurants that once pandered to the extravagant whims of the rich and powerful, now acted as canteens and bedrooms. Expensive Hotel suites had their silken bedding exchanged for sleeping bags. Five star chefs now turned out simpler fare, for far more mouths than usually visited the establishments they worked in.

For the most part, the City remained a ruin.

But here and there, it was starting to bloom.

======================================================================

Fragment - Nursing Assistance.

With the war officially over, the Clones no longer needed to protect the shelters. Instead, they used their unique abilities to retrieve people and bodies from collapsed buildings, and to generally assist the Emergency Teams.

The AVE's were especially helpful, being able to rapidly transport equipment, clear debris, and safely demolish damaged buildings.

As the immediate threat to life and limb waned after a day or so, the Clones started helping out in the overworked Hospitals, along with other volunteers.

This was partly an attempt by the Clones to prove they could be OTHER than what they were originally created to be. Not that they told anyone this…

Their efforts earned the respect of all who worked with them. Although not ALL of the respect was for their medical prowess…

It had been a long day for one particular blue-haired Clone, Clone#13, who had been applying her professional attitude, unerring precision, and unearthly skills to the important medical task of cleaning out 'used' bedpans…

With their lack of formal qualifications, it was decided that any volunteers should assist with 'small things', the mundane tasks, freeing up Nurses to take care of the more 'people-skill' intensive duties.

As the Clones were so YOUNG, and Nursing required a 'mature' approach to things, they got the jobs that DIDN'T involve 'people contact'. Older volunteers though, helped patients out with bathing, and toilet/personal hygiene needs.

Clone#13 had done her job without complaint, although there were LOTS of things she would MUCH rather have been doing…

Although she HAD discovered, that her E.T. Field was flexible enough to let her do the job, without actually 'touching' the bedpans. This 'little' discovery was a source of comfort to those other Clones yet to do the task…

She was musing over how well her powers could be applied for such 'mundane' things, when she heard a female Nurse cry out for help.

Clone#13 responded quickly, fearing a 'life and death' medical emergency, only to find the Nurse had encountered a male patient with 'Octopus Syndrome', that is, he seemed to have MORE than the usual number of hands, most of which were 'groping' the nurse…

Mazurka's attempts to educate the Clones about the 'facts of life', HAD included 'cautionary tales' about how SOME men might act towards them… She'd been afraid the 'innocent' Clones might be 'taken advantage of', and had advised that CERTAIN sorts of behaviour were NOT to be tolerated. THIS was one such situation…

"Leave her alone!" commanded the Clone, her voice slipping into 'Mazurka-Mode'.

The lecher, startled by this intrusion into his fantasies, let go of the Nurse, thinking he'd been caught by someone with authority.

Unfortunately, the Clone was dressed in a school uniform. This was ANOTHER of the lecher's fantasies, and he accosted her instead.

"Hey Chicky-Babe! Why don'cha come over here and have a 'good time' with ME?" he near-incoherently leered at her.

Clone#13 evaluated his comments, actions, and facial expression, and concluded he was an 'adult-sized' version of some other creeps the Clones had previously met. "Are you left or right handed?" she asked in a soft voice.

The lecher, not currently thinking with his brain, replied "Right-handed."

The Clone immediately walked over to him.

The Lecher smiled, and reached out with both arms thinking his 'pickup line' and OBVIOUSLY irresistible MANLY 'charm' had worked on the pretty schoolgirl.

He kept smiling as the Clone took hold of his 'welcoming' left arm.

He stopped smiling when the Clone deliberately broke the 'Ulna' bone in it.

He screamed in pain, and swore at the Clone, hitting her, trying to make her let him go. He only bruised his fist on her E.T. Field reinforced body.

Clone#13 pointedly ignored his abusive tirade, until the lecher had calmed down enough to make coherent, although arrogant, verbal threats, attempting to intimidate her through 'word-games'.

Then she calmly broke the 'Radius' bone in the same forearm.

Whimpering in pain and fear, the lecher tried to get away from the silent Clone and her unblinking crimson stare, but couldn't as she held his broken arm in a grip of steel.

The Nurse just stood there with a shocked, yet approving, look on her face.

"I believe," began Clone#13 in TOO-quiet tones, "That you are suffering from 'Octopus Syndrome'."

She paused, remembering what Mazurka had said about this condition, before continuing, "This condition IS treatable, either through 'Attitude Adjustment' sessions, or 'Surgical Removal'. It is up to YOU, which treatment you receive."

"This LADY," stressed the Clone, inclining her head towards the Nurse, "Will refer you to specialists in your choice of treatment. Unless, this ONE session has cured you. In which case, you may leave."

She let go of the lecher, who ran away, holding his broken arm and sobbing.

"Th-Thank you," stammered the awed Nurse.

The Clone merely inclined her head in response, before walking off. She stopped after going a few feet, then turned to the Nurse and said, "If it happens again, let one of us know. We'll take care of it."

The Nurse nodded dumbly in reply.

Of course, the story got around… Mazurka heard about it, and quite naturally, wanted 'more details' from the Clones. "I thought the creep said he was RIGHT-handed," asked Mazurka, "So why did you break his LEFT arm?"

"Because," the Clone Mazurka was with replied, "The loss of ability in his left arm would not stop him going to the toilet by himself. The Nurses are very busy, and do NOT have time to assist with small things."

Mazurka laughed, not knowing if the Clone was aware of the humorous double meaning of her comment.

After that, the Clones became well-known and popular helpers at the Hospital. They were always recognisable, due to their habit of wearing School Uniforms.

This was due to Mazurka's advice. She had told them it would make them highly visible, and would help protect local schoolgirls by making their uniforms a 'warning' sign to any OTHER lechers.

Two days after the incident, another blue-haired Clone was 'jumped' by a masked knife-wielding thug. He was unusual, in that his left arm was in a cast.

He tried to intimidate her with cold steel, and an arrogant attitude, and when that didn't produce the desired result of fear-filled respect, he attacked.

"Why are you attacking me?" asked the Clone in a calm voice, as she fluidly weaved and dodged his amateurish knife swings.

"Because you broke my arm you 8!+#, and I'm going to make you pay for it!"

The Clone finally recognised him, he was the 'Octopus Syndrome' patient.

"You had a choice of therapies," she stated, "It appears the first didn't work."

She ducked under his swinging arm, and closed in, using her E.T. Field reinforced arms, and inhuman strength to 'Block and Lock' both his knife arm, and the club-like cast on his other.

Her knee, reinforced by an internal E.T. Field, shot up into his groin.

It connected… HARD… **VERY** HARD…

The would-be thug dropped his knife, and fell gasping to the ground, his eyes rolling up into his head, as his hands clutched at his 'shattered pride'…

"We'll try 'Surgical Removal' this time," commented the Clone.

Shakey was there when one of the Clones told Mazurka about it. He grimaced, feeling sympathetic pains, and muttered, "That MUSTA hurt…"

Thinking he was talking to her, the Clone replied, "No. I didn't feel a thing."

This time, Mazurka laughed until she cried.

======================================================================

Fragment - Other Dreams.

In his room somewhere in the Clone Zone, Shakey Atari slept fitfully as his traumatised mind kept replaying the scenes of death and destruction he'd been an unwilling part of.

He wasn't the only one having nightmares…

The Clones themselves were having difficulties from the Final Battle, but for a much different reason…

Clone #137 laid down on her makeshift bed on the Loading Dock. The hours of maintaining an E.T. Field around the Clone Zone had left her feeling tired and drained. It was with a feeling akin to gratitude that she had wolfed down some food and gone straight to bed, hoping for a few hours of rest.

Her breathing slowed as her muscles relaxed into unconsciousness, her chest rising and falling in the gentle rhythm of oblivion. Some part of #137's mind found itself floating in the domain of the Clones' Group Mind, a place speckled with the life experiences of the other Clones.

And tonight, something more…

There was a difference in the Group Mind, instead of the comfortably subdued chorus of the other Clones murmuring in the background, there were discordant notes, elusive things that slid and hid amongst the dark spaces between the bright stars of the Clones' minds.

What? the Group Mind asked itself as it became aware of the intruders, These are not… of ourselves…?

Turning its own resources inwards on itself, the Group Mind was soon able to contain the strays, and subject them to analysis.

The Group Mind was suddenly flooded with images of multicoloured skies with numerous suns…

The Artefact? the Group Mind concluded, These are memories from it? Memories from the Aliens who created it?

Intrigued, the Group Mind paid rapt attention to the information it was now remembering.

Images of impossibly angled architecture, unknown constellations and star fields, strange alien worlds, and stranger beings passed into the Group mind…

As did things much closer to home…

A vision of a standard prefabricated NERVIS Base Living Quarters swam into view.

As did the image of Commander Glando Atari, dressed in a tuxedo and struggling to do up his bow tie…

??Commander?? the Group Mind was puzzled, Why are YOU here?

The answer came as the memory of Glando spoke.

"Dear, can you please tie this for me?" Glando asked sheepishly, "I seem to be all thumbs tonight…"

A feeling of amusement swept over the Group Mind, although it couldn't see anything particularly humorous in the scene.

Arms wearing elegant lace gloves appeared and swiftly completed Glando's tie.

"You know dear," Glando whispered mischieviously, "We don't have to go out to enjoy ourselves?" He smiled, a genuine, warm-hearted smile accented by the way his whole face shifted to match it.

"Perhaps," the memory of a strangely familiar feminine voice purred, "But we've both been cooped up down here too long… We NEED a break…"

"If you're set on going out for a night on the town…" Glando replied, "I'll be happy to go along…" Glando's face suddenly came closer.

The Group Mind felt several strange and powerful emotions as they remembered being cradled in Glando's arms, the way his eyes gazed soulfully into theirs… Then vision failed as Glando leaned in for a passionate kiss…

"Oh You!" the feminine voice gasped afterwards with a feeling of delight, "I want more than a 'night on the town'… I want YOU! Even if it's just for this one night, I want you ALL to myself… Is your cell phone switched off…"

"Ah… But," Glando protested, "What if there's an emergency? How will…"

"Oh for…" a feeling of murderous exasperation swept over the Group Mind, "It's only one night! Surely they can handle things without you for ONE night? I mean, you DID leave the Professor in charge, DIDN'T you?"

"Yes dear," Glando meekly admitted.

"Good! I'll just get my purse and we can go…"

The scene changed, swivelling towards a large chest of drawers with several items on top. A tissue box, items of make-up, hair spray, a silk purse…

And a large mirror, in which the Group Mind saw a fleeting glimpse of a face similar to theirs, but one that was years older and adorned with brown hair.

The Commander's wife? the Group Mind realised, as things fell into place, But… how can memories of either of them be in the Artefact? Unless…?

These are not memories from the Artefact! the Group Mind decided, But are from Unit Won… The AVE the Commander's Wife died in!

The Group Mind sifted through the second-hand memories it had apparently acquired from Unit Won, trying to find more from the mother of Shakey.

The vision of a stately white hotel loomed up, along with several tastefully worded, yet somehow lewdly garish neon signs…

'The Velvet Trampoline' Rabu Hoteru? the Group Mind mentally blinked in surprise, Why would Shakey's mother remember going to a 'Love Hotel'?

"Dear? Really!" Glando's voice sounded embarrassed, "We've got quarters…"

"Huh," the voice of Shakey's mother snorted disdainfully, "They're hardly what I'd call 'romantic'… Besides, they're on the Base… And tonight, I DON'T want to be reminded about that place…"

Vague memories followed of booking in at the main reception, and taking a short elevator ride to an upper floor.

A discretely nondescript white door opened onto a well appointed hotel room, one with deep plush carpet, thick curtains, wide screen Television with Video player, bar fridge, sound system…

And a king-size four-poster bed with satin sheets and mirrored ceiling above it…

??? wondered the Group Mind, Why put a mirror on the ceiling?

The Group Mind soon found out… Along with a **WHOLE LOT** of 'other stuff'…

======================================================================

Fragment - Heirlooms or Heritage?

The aftermath of the Final Battle would play out for weeks to come as shocked survivors came to grips with the reality of what they had endured. Many would never recover, being too 'shell-shocked' by their experiences.

Some bore a constant reminder of the battle in their crippling injuries. Others had hollow absences in their lives that had once been filled by people they'd lost. Then there were those who had to live with people who had changed from what they were, familiar strangers they had to get to know all over again…

The Rave Clone stood silently, as still as a statue as she watched Shakey lie unconscious in his bed. The muffled sound of slipper-less footsteps approaching from behind interrupted the solitary vigil.

"Problem?" Mazurka whispered, her anxious gaze sweeping Shakey's bedroom.

"…i… am not sure…" the Rave Clone hesitantly replied.

"What's wrong?" Mazurka asked with real worry in her voice, "Is he having nightmares again?"

"…no…" the Clone responded, "…his medication has him 'out cold', as you say…"

"Then what…?"

"Mazurka," the Clone said in a low voice, "…i… WE… need to talk…"

"All right," Mazurka agreed, the stressing of the 'we' in the Clone's words clear indication that the Clones had something on their mind, "Kitchen?"

"Yes…"

The two retreated to the kitchen, the Clone making sure Shakey's bedroom door was securely shut. Mazurka seated herself at the kitchen table, while the Clone made a pot of tea for them.

'Something's definitely wrong,' Mazurka decided as she noticed the Clones subdued attitude, 'Something that involves Shakey…'

Mazurka shelved her thoughts as the Clone brought over a tea service, and poured two steaming cups of dark tea.

"Thank you," Mazurka murmured as she accepted the hospitality.

The Clone poured herself a cup and sat looking at it.

"What's wrong with Shakey?" Mazurka politely demanded, "Does he need a doctor?"

"His health is not the matter we need to talk about," the Clone replied, "Although the matter does concern him…"

Mazurka sat and waited for the Clone to continue.

"You know how we in the tank were educated," the Clone said softly.

"Memory downloads," Mazurka nodded in agreement.

"When we merged with the AVE's in the Battle…" the Clone hesitated, "…we had an unexpected memory download…"

Mazurka tensed at the unexpected news.

"Shakey's AVE, Unit Won…" the Clone paused, "…contained memories from his mother in its neural network…"

"And?" Mazurka asked, her nonchalant tone mismatching her body language.

The Clone's eyes stayed glued to her teacup as a deep blush spread across her face, "…we know how Shakey was made…"

A shiver ran over Mazurka at the Clone's choice of words. Knowledge of the Clones' true origins prompting the sick suspicion, 'Made? Like they were?'

"What do you mean?" Mazurka's voice was thick with worry, "W-was he made… like you were? Designed in a laboratory?"

"No… He was made as other True Human Beings are…"

Mazurka's troubled heart beat in relief.

"It is just…" the Clone clarified, "…we now… remember… the procedures his parents used when making him… In great detail…"

"…ahhh…" Mazurka was well and truly speechless.

It was one thing for a Guardian to instruct her teenage charges about matters referring to the 'Birds and the Bees'. It was another thing to find out that the charges in question had actually 'seen' it happen. But to find out that they 'knew' about the procedure **IN DETAIL** as second-hand memories they'd gotten from the dead mother of the boy they were emotionally attracted to…

Mazurka closed her eyes and leaned her head into her hands, her confusion not helped by the headache she felt building.

"We also remember," the Clone continued, "…other things…"

"What?" croaked Mazurka, dreading the worst, especially since Glando, the Evil B-----D who'd run NERVIS, had been Shakey's father.

"…giving birth to him…" the Clone replied in a small voice, "…caring for him… washing him… nursing him… taking him to pre-school…"

"…well…" Mazurka said as much as she felt capable of.

"But," the Clone continued, "We realise… these memories are not ours… They are not… us… in them… We are NOT his mother… We did NOT give birth to him… We did NOT nurse him… We did NOT have sex with his father…"

Mazurka choked at the last comment. The malevolent vermin in the Gutter Media had lost no time in vilifying Glando, and were leaving no vile accusation against the dead man unused in their quest for ratings and increased sales.

"…ah… about that last bit…" Mazurka barely got out, "…I DON'T think you should tell anyone you know what sex with Shakey's father was like… Even though it's only a memory you got from Shakey's mother… People REALLY won't understand…"

"We had already decided that…" the embarrassed Clone said, "But…" She lapsed into a red-faced silence, the tilt of her head making her blue fringe hide her crimson eyes, "…we don't know how to think about him now…"

"What do you mean?" Mazurka gently prompted.

"Shakey… his Father… They are similar in our minds… We are… confused…"

Mazurka swallowed hard, 'Oh great… I've got THIS to deal with and no beer…'

"We know…" the Clone murmured, "…how Shakey's Father treated his wife, Shakey's mother. When we look at Shakey… We see what his father may have been like at that age. When we look in the mirror… We see in ourselves… a resemblance to Shakey's mother… and we wonder… will Shakey ever want to treat us like that…"

"Listen to me!" Mazurka exclaimed, "Shakey is NOT his Father! He's a sweet boy who'll grow up into a fine man with the right guidance and care!"

"Yes," agreed the Clone, "Just like his father was…"

"…J-Juh…????" Mazurka stuttered in shock before collapsing back into her chair.

"Yes," the Clone insisted, looking at Mazurka, "The Commander was a… good family man. Then his wife died and grief twisted him into the man you knew. Many people only knew the changed version, and they judged him as only ever having been that sort of person. We Clones know different. We were raised by him. He cared for us, as much as he did for his own son…"

Mazurka gaped, all her opinions of Glando wavering as the conviction in the Clone's words hit her.

"So… what are you going to do?" Mazurka eventually asked.

"…we do not know…" the Clone admitted, "…we do not know how Shakey would react to our new knowledge of him… Of his father and mother, of their… interactions…"

"Well…" Mazurka's mouth worked overtime as her mind grasped at straws, "What do you really want in your lives?"

"We want to be loved," the Clone replied promptly, "We want to have the sort of… appreciation… Shakey's mother had from his father…"

Mazurka's mind was glad of the Clone's choice of words, 'At least they're not intending to drag Shakey into the sack… Or ARE they??'

"Uhhh, Rave?" Mazurka's voice cracked slightly as she tried to find the right words, "You may… remember… the 'physical side' of his parent's relationship…"

"…oh yes…" admitted the blushing Clone with a Womanly Smile.

"…B-but," Mazurka stuttered, finding the Clone's unexpected response NOT in the least bit helpful, "…you're both only 15 and… and you shouldn't DO that yet…"

The Clone blinked, "Do what? Consummate a physical relationship with Shakey?"

Mazurka's brilliant mental engine spluttered and died from lack of beer. She merely nodded, her own face growing uncomfortably warm.

"Do not worry," smiled the Clone, "We know people should wait until they are adults before participating in such activities. We know that emotional maturity is needed, just as much as physical maturity is. We Clones know that we are not ready yet, in either capacity. Nor for that matter is Shakey…"

Mazurka gave a relieved sigh as she flopped facedown on the table, 'Where's a beer when I **NEED** one…?'

"Mazurka?" the Clone asked timidly, "Although we should wait before doing such things… Is it… allowable… for us to think about such things… at our age?"

"Rave…" Mazurka groaned, as she saw that things were NOT getting any better, "There's a WORLD of difference between THINKING about something and actually DOING it! Thinking about something does not affect the real world, unless the thoughts are put into action. However…"

"However…" Mazurka repeated, "A person's thoughts can cause… problems… A person may spend so much time with their thoughts, that they neglect the 'real' world around them. They may try to meet all of their relationship needs with an internal Fantasy, rather than with an external Reality. This can be dangerous, as they are unable to cope when Reality eventually intrudes on their Fantasy…"

The Clone nodded, "Like some of the victims of the Final Battle… The ones that thought bad things would only happen to other people…"

"That's not what I was trying to say…" Mazurka sighed, "A person can dwell on a particular thought or way of thinking until they expect reality to be exactly as they imagine it should be… Regardless of how well-informed anyone is, Reality is not static, things change constantly. Sometimes drastically, sometimes subtly… Eventually, we all have to change our perspectives…"

"We understand," said the Clone, "Adequate Tactical analysis and management of any situation, requires a constant stream of current information…"

Mazurka ignored the Clone's SWAT-speak, "Thoughts can become 'a vicious cycle', if they are reinforced through some sort of feedback… For example… pleasure is a common reinforcement agency… Especially if the pleasure is… self-induced…"

"One sort of self-induced pleasure," a red-faced Mazurka coughed and looked away from the Clone at the table, "Is orgasm from masturbation… The stimulating of one's own erogenous zones until climax is achieved, can quickly reinforce ANY Fantasy used in the act, to the point that the Fantasy becomes the main focus of a person's life… And what's worse, it can reinforce all sorts of dangerous, or abusive ways of thinking about how to treat others…"

"You said…" Mazurka said airily, still not looking at the Clone, "That you remember what Shakey's mother… felt… in her relationship with Glando? Do you remember the emotional pleasure in her relationship, as well as the physical pleasure? Can you distinguish between them?"

"Yes…" admitted the Clone, "Although it not always easy. There were times when the two were… intertwined…"

"SOME people…" Mazurka tried not to think about the imagery in the Clone's words, "…confuse their emotional needs with their physical needs… They think physical pleasure is a substitute for emotional satisfaction… That physical pleasure is all they need… That is wrong… DEAD Wrong! A person NEEDS emotional satisfaction in their life… It's part of what any successful relationship is built on."

Mazurka pressed on, "People who only seek after their own physical self-pleasure, or think that is all they need, often end up engaging in activities that adversely affect themselves and those around them…"

"I do not understand," The Clone said, "If self-pleasure does not involve other people, how can it adversely affect them?"

Mazurka sighed and rubbed her temples, "Because eventually, the person will realise there is something lacking in their life, namely the emotional part, and will go looking for it… And because they'll be ill-equipped for reality, they'll probably act in ways that end up offending those they try to 'interact' with at the very least, or even cause actual harm… This is ESPECIALLY true if their idea of 'relationships' have been fuelled by abusive, or unrealistic fantasies… Such as 'rape', 'dominance', or finding the 'perfect' partner…"

"What…" the Clone's face had a worried look to it, "…are acceptable fantasies?"

Mazurka chuckled ruefully, "That's open to debate! If you were to ask a million different people, you'd get at least a million answers, ranging from the sexually repressed 'none at all', to the sexually liberated 'anything goes'… And THAT'S just the answers the people would feel easy enough about to give in public, let alone what their secret personal opinions are…"

"What is your… personal opinion?" the Clone asked timidly.

"…ah… well… personally speaking," Mazurka's blush deepened and her voice lowered to a whisper, "Keep this information just between us, you understand?"

The Clone nodded.

"Well…" Mazurka shrugged "I believe in the old saying, 'Do as you will, but do no harm…' That is, as long as none of those involved are being forced, or hurt, or taken advantage of, just relax and enjoy… whatever…"

"I see," the Clone nodded, "Like in all those 'Black Lace Romance Novels' you have?"

Mazurka coughed, her cheeks going a deeper shade of red, "Yes… well… If you have to have fantasies, why not have ones where people are loving and tender to each other, and treat each other with kindness and respect?""

"But," the Clone continued, a concerned look on her face, "Is it appropriate for people as young as we are… to have such fantasies?"

Mazurka gave a heavy sigh, "Rave… If your adolescence has developed your mind and body to the point where you want, or feel a need… to think about such things… then it's best to have a 'safety valve' for any… urges you may have… If you don't, you'll sexually repress yourself, and your urges may build up to the point where they'll make you do, or go along with, something you'll later regret!"

"Trust me on this," Mazurka asserted, noting the Clones' sceptical look, "It's something that has happened all too often with males. I've lost count of the number of times I've heard of Priests, who aren't SUPPOSED to have a sex life, sexually abusing children… Then there's the various types of Rapist in the world… Some are just sad little nobodies, who wouldn't hurt a fly until they get drunk, and all of a sudden can't tell reality from fantasy anymore…"

"But I am not male," said the Clone, stating the obvious.

"Makes no difference," Mazurka said dismissively, "Many children who've attended schools run by overly 'religious' women will often tell of being beaten for 'being naughty'… And I'm NOT talking about a mere slap on the bum either! I'm talking about being hit with metal rulers and sticks until the child is bruised and bleeding… The injuries sometimes getting infected and needing medical attention…"

"Do women do such things to children?" the Clone asked in disbelief.

"Oh YES!," Mazurka sneered, "Not only which, but they'll have the gall to say they're only teaching the child 'manners' or 'respect', rather than admitting they really get a secret Sado-Masochistic thrill from inflicting pain and terror on helpless children…"

"Then… we are not alone…" the Clone muttered, a strange look on her face.

"Huh?" Mazurka asked suspiciously, a strange dread growing in her, "What do you mean, you're 'not alone'? Has something like that happened to you?"

"Not… exactly," the Clone hesitantly admitted, "When the First and Second Rave were young, their carers regularly gave them electric shocks that caused intense pain… To teach them respect… and the consequences of disobeying orders…"

"Oh, Rave…" Mazurka gasped as a sick feeling twisted within her, "Do… do you want to talk about it…"

"It does not matter," the Clone shrugged, "It was long ago…"

"It DOES matter!" Mazurka insisted, "The physical abuse of children is something that can seriously affect the child's mental and emotional development…"

As soon as she said it, Mazurka realised, '…emotional development? Rave rarely showed much emotion… Was that why? They tortured her feelings out of her?'

"So that is why the Commander objected…" mused the Clone.

"WHAT?!" Mazurka was aghast, "He only OBJECTED? That…" Mazurka's next bit of verbal communication added considerably to the Clones list of swear words…

"He stopped them, for a time," the Clone clarified, feeling relatively sure that her interpretation of Mazurka's colourful terms required her to defend Glando, "But STEELY overruled him. The Commander was most unhappy when he found out what was being done. To do more than he had, could have seen him… removed…"

Mazurka squirmed uneasily in her seat, 'Should I press for details? No, it's best if an abused child empowers themselves by speaking about their abuse, when they want to… when they feel up to it…'

"That is just one reason why we respected the Commander so much," the Clone added with a smile, "We knew that he truly cared for us… Far more than those who were supposed to care for us did…"

"Are…" Mazurka hated herself, but she felt it had to be said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," replied the Clone with a beatific smile, "We are very sure…"

Mazurka sat, her thoughts in a turmoil, 'Maybe Glando wasn't the Evil B-----D I always thought he was… Perhaps he did… have a human side… But still…'

"Promise me this," Mazurka said slowly, looking the Clone directly in her crimson eyes, "If you ever want to… talk… about what happened… That you'll tell someone… That you won't bottle it up inside you… Promise me!"

The Clone tilted her head silently, and seemed to appraise Mazurka's offer, then with a slight nod she said, "We promise Mazurka. As you think it so important, may we discuss it with you later?"

"YES!" Mazurka immediately agreed, "But I gotta tell you… It may take more resources than I have… I may have to get other people… Trained Professional type people… to help explain things and get it all sorted out… Is that okay?"

"Yes," confirmed the Clone, "Why should it not be?"

Mazurka sighed, 'Even with a secret THAT private and personal, they still agree immediately to my bringing others in on it…'

"Okay then," Mazurka said, trying to plaster a smile on her face, "When you feel up to it, we'll… talk about it… in depth… And see how it goes from there…"

"So?" asked the Clone, "What about the other matter? Should we be having thoughts about males and… consummating physical relationships with them?"

"Sure," Mazurka decided to play it straight, "At your age most girls have already started thinking about such things. If not because they're evaluating potential partners, then for the sake of their own emotional development. Many will fantasize about how things MIGHT be, with the man of their dreams… As well as just who that lucky man might be…"

"Did you?" the Clone asked in Rave's trademark innocent voice.

"Ah-hurm," coughed Mazurka, turning red again, "Yes I did, but I WON'T go into the specifics… That's getting a bit too… personal…"

"Do you know what Fantasies Shakey has?" the Clone asked

"I… wouldn't know that…" Mazurka winced as she slipped into Security-speak…

"Oh," the Clone said.

"Rave dear," Mazurka sighed, "That sort of information is definitely a very personal thing to ask someone. No-one really needs to know such things anyway, unless they're doing some sort of Psychological Evaluation… Besides, it's not what Fantasies a person has, it's how they treat others in the Real World…"

Mazurka's expression suddenly went grim, "As I said, you should take care in what fantasies you do have, in case they become something that prevents you finding happiness in the Real World… As you go through life, you WILL meet people who don't seem to worry about how other people feel…"

"This may simply be due to a lack of social experience, or it may be something worse… Either way, you must ALWAYS tell the other person if they're not treating you right, or if they're doing you any sort of harm or upset! And you should take the time to ASK the other person how they feel about things as well. Many people will suffer in silence, not knowing that the other person has mistaken their silence as consent, or approval of the actions in question…"

"I understand," the Clone stated, "If the other person wants to talk, I should listen. If I believe the relationship has problems, I should talk things over with the other person, and together we can try and make things better."

"Yeah," Mazurka cautiously agreed, "Most of the time that's the way to go… However, some of the people who are 'problem' cases may get too embarrassed to talk about things, or they may ignore you and continue what they were doing."

"Why would they continue to engage in actions they know upset another?"

"Because," Mazurka gesticulated with both hands for emphasis, "They may be hooked on some sort of 'power trip' or 'control' Fantasy. They see the fact that they can upset another person, as being evidence of their own power over others… That they've got some sort of control over people and events around them… That they aren't as helpless as they think they really are…"

"So, a person who wishes to exercise control over another is somehow… deranged?"

"Depends," Mazurka stressed, "On what sort of control we're talking about. If it's something that helps people around them, like being an Ambulance Officer or Fireman, it's seen as a socially beneficial trait. It it's something that makes them want to hurt people, or deny them their rights, then it's seen as being antisocial, and a mental illness…"

"Can…" the Clone hesitated, "Can an antisocial person… change?"

Mazurka shrugged, "Again, it depends… Any sort of change in a person, is influenced by either internal will, or external forces. Sometimes the internal will is as a result of external forces, sometimes it's just because the person decided for themselves that a change was needed. Regardless, even IF a person WANTS to change themselves, they'll have a tough enough job changing, as old habits are hard to break. No amount of external force can change a person against their will. It may convince them to act differently for a while, but once the external force dissipates, then the old personality usually re-emerges… Power trips are not a bad thing in themselves, just their adverse effects are… Everyone needs to feel important at some stage in their life…"

"Yes…" the Clone agreed, as she thought of how Shakey made them feel.

"Some people though…" Mazurka paused, "…need to feel important more often than others, as part of a psychological 'compensation' for feelings of inadequacy. This is an extremely complex topic, and would require a College degree and in-depth analysis of a particular person, to fully understand THAT person. However, as a general rule of thumb, if people treat you bad, TALK to them about it. If they refuse to talk it over, or continue to treat you bad, say goodbye and get out! That's the safest plan! Don't waste time with people who don't value your opinion enough to listen to you, let alone those who need to change and don't!"

"Would…" the Clone's voice was quietly hesitant, "Would Shakey walk away from us… if we were not able to change enough to pass as… as normal people?"

"No," Mazurka smiled as she relaxed, "I don't think you need worry about that… You're already 'normal people' to Shakey, no matter what you really are… He won't walk out on you over that. But… he might try harder to help you change…"

The Clones smiled warmly at the thought.

======================================================================

The END of this Fragment of "Altered Lives (The Parody)"

======================================================================