Old Debts

"Deckard?"

The trench-coated man turned around, and raised his fedora slightly. "Gaff," he said nodding. He stopped walking and waited for Gaff to reach him.

"How have you been, Deck? I haven't seen you in a while."

"I know you don't actually care how I've been, since you've had people tracking me, and you know the generally crappy level of the life that I lead. Just get down to it, and tell me what you want me to do," Deckard said.

Gaff looked offended. "If that's how you see it." He paused then began, "Schlecht saved your life; I'm here to collect for him now."

"What do you need me for? Isn't that artificial construct good enough?" Deckard turned to leave.

Gaff held his cane in front of Deckard, and stopped him from advancing. "What I have planned is going to make you real again. It's a simple job, but we need you."

Deckard looked at him. "Why?"

"I've been hired by a group that is hoping to end the replicant trade, and shut down Tyrell. You probably haven't heard of them, but they want to do something to announce themselves to the world, something big, and you factor prominently in that plan."

Deckard listened to the details of Gaff's plan, and at the end of the explanation, Deck was in agreement. He had a chance to take down the double who had replaced him, to take down the people who had ruined him, and to finally reclaim the life and reputation he had been exiled from.

"So, you just have to kill him then. It will all be arranged. You're part of a ceremony," Gaff said, as if killing a man was of no consequence.

"Let's do it."

Deckard sat on a city public bench, across from a gaudy noodle bar. He raised his fedora slightly and saw Gaff approach a man at the bar. The man tried to avoid listening to him, but after a brief conversation, the man followed Gaff to his spinner.

Deckard stood up and started to walk back to his apartment. He was starting to feel like himself already.

Date: 2002-11-02 11:35