Hi Guys! This is Isabelle, and first of all, I'd like to say that this is my own original piece of writing, though the idea isn't exactly mine. 3-D printing is a thing that has been around for years, although we sadly haven't been able to make clones yet, I do kind of want to know how it would be like in the future. Not to mention, the world would probably be quite chaotic, with all the criminals running around while innocent clones not jail, but yeah. This will include some swearing, but I'll try my best to limit it, and this is my first time writing, I'll do my very best, and no, this isn't really edited. Thanks to all who read this, and I hope you find it interesting! Constructive criticism appreciate, don't like don't read. Kudos to all!!!
THE STORY OF ALECTO MORSTEN
Beep. Access Denied. A computerised female voice rang out, void of emotions any sort.
Alex sighed. She ran her fingers dejectedly over the soft keys of her notebook, her cup of hot chocolate clasped loosely between fingers as she lounged languidly in her window seat, legs crossed. Not many individuals still used the older models of basic electronics, after the introduction of e-pods, an advancement of technology implanted directly into the brain. Shortly after the massive wave of change caused, many of the biggest tech companies, such as the once renowned Apple, or Samsung were forced out of business. Much like her, some still preferred the ways of older technology to the new softwares and updates coming through every now and then.
Nowadays, even internet cafés such as the one Alex was currently in were hard to find in the buzzing fast-paced city, mostly located outside the hotspots in town. The olden-styled cafés were simply made of personal comfort and relaxation, where citizens could rest and enjoy a few refreshing beverages after a hard day of work. Less and less cafés had foods such as 'Hot Chocolate' or even 'Coconut water' as time progressed, and finding a place like this was no easy feat.
Peculiar as it was, the Daughter of the world-famous Benjamin Morsten, CEO & Owner of the Worlds' largest corporation, MORSTEN Co., famed for producing the latest tech, was a traditionalist at heart. Blame it on her genes, blame it on teenage rebellion urges, but Alecto Ryane Morsten, was not in any way, interested in new technologies, much less inheriting MORSTEN co.in future. She stuck to old-fashioned ways and expressions, and possessed the seeming attitude of someone who had been born in the 2000s. Change was inevitable, but did not mean that it had to be adhered to.
16 year-old Alex Morsten's fingers danced furiously across the keyboard of her device, simultaneously placing multiple commands to attack at once while attempting to override the system's auto-defence system. Soft taps rang out as she once again tried to hack into the Code files buried deep into the companies archives, to no avail. The Code files were recognised as one of the few systems with consistent international-level security. The most brilliant minds were searched out every year to help take care of the files, and the complicated series of coded passwords were changed every month. After all, all confidential matters regarding next to every aspect could be found inside. Tech genius or no, it was practically impossible to scramble the code and hack into the files. The firewalls put up had simply been to strong.
But no. She could not give up now, not after she had found a lead to her past. Not until she got her hands on the files. If anything had information on her past, that would be it. Sacrifices had been made, countless fundamental laws broken, and she had no intention of turning away from the only lead she possessed. At times, it felt as if her only option was to give up. But no. Never in a millennia would she allowed that to happen.
She was the heir of the company which practically ran the files, for heavens sake. Why couldn't she have the right to read the files, especially the ones on her? Confusion clouded her mind and she twisted the ring settled on her middle finger instinctively, seeking comfort. The green jade ring in the form of a dragon was an honoured family heirloom from the Asian ancestry of her maternal side, passed down to her by her late Mother and right before her untimely demise.
Around that time, at the tender age of ten, she had stress-induced anxiety after her mother's death, which triggered a severe case of amnesia when the grief had finally caught up with her, or so she was told. After that incident, she was in temporary coma and MORSTEN Co. Hospitals had been the one taking care of her rehabilitation after awakening. She had woken up with no memories at all, except for basics such as language and some common knowledge.
MORSTEN Co. was not necessarily the one with the widest range of products or the best qualities, but what made it truly renowned and worldwide-famous was the production of XM 2000, the world's very first look in a new perspective of 3-D printing technology. The first generation world-changing machine that finalised 6 years ago could print literally copies of everything ever known to Mankind, up to the extent of pet animals or even human beings - clones.
Everything, up to the creases on the forehead when you smiled, the peculiar different length of eyebrows you had, everything about the clones were exact replicas; splitting images. Every DNA strand in your body had duplicated in two. The very existence of an artificial being, too similar to you to even be called a twin. The attitude, pet peeves and even favourite foods were undeniably mirrored into their programmed mind.
Without knowing what to look for, it was near impossible to differentiate whether the person standing next to you was a clone as of half the passers-by walking along the road would be. Just introduced into society for six years, and suddenly, the numbers of existing clones shot up from mere single digits to over a hundred million. With a staggering number of 2 billion machines sold in less than half a year and matching approvals and excelling reviews, clones were suddenly the new trend, the new rad and chic popularity all around the world. The idea of a second 'you' seemed to have been incredibly popular among the society, and was generally welcomed with open arms.
"Miss," a low voice suddenly pierced the air. " Your Father has called for a meeting with you." Alex looked up from her computer to find the large, looming body of her bodyguard shadowing her. " Alright, James, tell him I'm coming right away." She responded, closing up her laptop and shrugging on her jacket as she started towards the vehicle parked neatly along the road, chauffeur waiting patiently for her to get in. That was one of the only perks of being unusually rich, along with the terrifying notion of running a company in future. "Your Father has informed that he will be late as there has been a delay of events." James informed quietly whilst they were riding in the limousine. Alex nodded, used to such circumstances.
Once she got back to the mansion, Alex raced up the auto-rotation stairs, steps whirring to life, propelling her towards her fathers office, thirty-ninth floor. She peeked through the door, jaw-dropping at the scene in front of her. By heavens sakes! Of all things possible, the files I've been valiantly trying to hack into for months are coincidentally right in front of me now, completely up for grabs? Right on the glowing screen of the laptop, was the insides of the Code files.
Positively radiant, she jumped at the chance to find the files. She searched the page for the file under her name with renewed vigour, clicking agitatedly at the still-loading screen. The files of Alecto Ryane Morsten. Jackpot! She barely refrained from screaming in excitement as she began reading the information provided neatly on the web page. But the first words displayed stopped her firmly in her tracks.
ALEX RYANE MORSTEN
Status: Deceased (Car crash, along with Mother, Carline Souva)
Death Day: 10th May 2203
The day six years ago, when she first woke up with the memory loss lapse. As she read on, it became apparent. Hope-filled eyes just a moment ago turned dull and lifeless now. Clones. Of course. Just what she needed. Everything she knew was a lie. Chocking back a sob, she suppressed a mirth-filled laugh, void of any amusement. That's the reason I'm so different from anyone, huh?
BLOODY FUCKING MARY-SUES PIXIE DUST AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, THE QUEEN AND HOLY EARLY GREY TEA, WHY IN FLYING MINT BUNNIES DOES THE WORLD HAVE TO GIVE ME FRAPPE RIGHT NOW? Clone or no, I am still the heir of one of the richest companies in the holy ducking world, and I will not take bull-faeces from anyone. Since this is on my Father's computer he must know something, eh? He will tell me or I will sass and bug him until he does. Bugger it all, why does helvete need to mess with me right now? She fumed, dead set on getting some answers. With all the questions in her mind, it was a wonder she wasn't going insane and tearing her hair off right this moment. That Ulluk Te Patha, we were never that close, how dare he be an all-knowing little tea cake? Fuck you, dear daddy'O s. Once her little emo moment and mental rage fit was finished, intent on finding the bâtard who had kept some secrets that should not have been, well, secrets.
I had to resort to swear in multiple languages, and insert some pretty nonsensical stuff and forms of fury into my work to fit your ideals, eh? Haters, go on and die in a ditch. I don't really particularly care how.
For anyone's information
helvete- hell in Hindi
Ulluk Te Patha- Son of a female dog in Hindi
Bâtard- bastard in French
