The Title

by David Caldwell

When Shiva Starts to Dance: Part 06.

The past and a future

Deckard had no idea how long he had been asleep. Michael wasn't in the apartment when he awoke. Pulling a blanket around himself he went in search of the bathroom. Having showered and shaved and wrapped himself in the blanket again he moved about the apartment.

As he walked into the room where he and Michael had talked he noticed an ESPER consul on a table. He sat down in front of the machine and spoke a number of words that he thought Michael might possibly have used as an entry code. Having failed to get a response from the computer he tried his own old access code, which also got no response. He stood up and turned around, his eyes coming to rest on the brass statue. He sat down and pushed the entry sequence and then said the name Shiva. The machine responded, requesting instructions. Not hoping for any success he asked the computer to access the Rep Detect Unit's Central system. Within 30 seconds the System mainframe appeared on the screen.

An hour at least must have passed and Deckard was now moving through the central files of the Tyrell Corporation, which again to Deckard's surprise had been surprisingly easy to gain access to.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better," Deckard spun around. Michael was standing in the doorway holding a number of packages. "Have you found the information you were looking for?"

Deckard turned back to the screen. "What's going on? Why am I able to get access to this information so easily?"

Michael placed the packages on a table and sat down beside Deckard. "You are finding it easy to access these files because it is completely unimportant to their owners that you do. There is no more Tyrell or any other major Corporation on Earth; there is no more real City Government; there are no more Blade Runners and only a minimal Police Force.

The party has moved Off-World and only the unwanted guests are left here. Over the last five years, after the realisation was made that life here was fast reaching a literally untenable point, the directors of the five major corporations got together and developed a plan for the relocation Off-World of all their operations. Naturally a critical mass of consumers was necessary for the continuation of their operations so a process of immigrant recruitment was embarked upon."

Michael stood and paced about the room, seeming to examine various pieces.

"Where did Replicants fit into this plan? They were necessary at the beginning to send out to the frontiers, subdue the hostiles, Terra-form the environments and build the colonies and as in my case to keep out the uninvited guests. Of course now that this is largely achieved and the final break with Earth is about to occur we're now no longer necessary. Replicants are being sent back to Earth to reach their four years and meekly expire."

Deckard looked into the handsome face and tried to take in what he was being told.

"That's why no one ever came after Rachael and I, we didn't matter anymore, nothing on Earth matters anymore."

At that point the light flickered and went out, the hum of the computer went silent.
Michael reached out in the darkness and took Deckard's hand.

"The power and other services have all been allowed to run down. It should come back on line in a while, but sooner rather than later its going off and not coming back on. Once those that are left realise what's happening things will get difficult. There are things we need to get done before that happens. For now we should get into bed and keep you warm. Without the central heating it's going to get very cold in here. It won't affect me but you 4's haven't got the internal temperature control that 6's have."

Deckard stopped. "You said …, you know I'm …, how?"
Michael placed his hand on Deckard's shoulder. "Yes you are one of us. I searched the Tyrell files but found nothing, then I searched police financial records and found the invoice for you from Tyrell."

Deckard was stunned hardly able to speak. He whispered, "Incept date? What was my incept date? How long…?"

Michael kissed Deckard, placing his hands on either side of his head. He withdrew his lips and looking hard into Deckard's eyes said, "You have as long as you want to have. Barring accidents you will live a long, long time, we both will"
"But how, the four years.." Michael placed his fingers on Deckard's lips.
"Remember that drip line I had in you after you passed out?" Deckard nodded looking down at the dressing on his arm. "I'd been flooding your system with nanites designed to seek, destroy and replace those programmed to instigate the system breakdown after four years."

"Where…designed by whom?"
"A Tyrell Tech called J.F. Sebastian, he'd been working on it for some time before ironically he was killed by Roy Batty. I accessed his home files, which surprisingly the Tyrell Corp had neglected to take. I suppose they had been to distracted by Dr. Tyrell's death and preparing for moving day to think about it. I used most of my earnings to get another Tyrell tech that happened to have a congenital heart condition and needed credits to buy his way Off-World, to continue Sebastian's work. It was he who helped me piece together the bigger story about what was going on."

The temperature in the apartment had plummeted once the power had gone out. Deckard's teeth were chattering. Michael put his arm around the other man's shoulders and led him to the bed. He helped Deckard to lie down then removed his clothes and slid in beside him. The tiger lay sprawled at the foot of the bed.

Deckard's mind was jerking across his thoughts like a damaged scanner. He was a replicant, but he was not going to stop. The Earth had become a sinking ship which had been abandoned by all that could. If he had only known about Michael and the nanites, Rachael could still be alive. If Roy could be reproduced could Rachael? He had to stop thinking for a while.

He pulled Michael's body towards him wrapping one leg around his saviour. Michael's cock was hard and pressed against Deckard, whose own engorged organ was thrust between Michael's thighs. Their hands moved over each other's back and flanks and their lips met in a moist, tender collision.

Occasionally the tiger Kali would look up at the two of them twisted and melded together into a wet, pumping, panting, many limbed sculpture, her two eyes momentarily reflecting as two red orbs.

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