Running the Blade

Norish Wrikman found himself atop the Rosen Association Building. What he was doing here, he didn't know. It wasn't often that the local Bounty Hunters got called in for social reasons, after all. Most of the people here didn't like the people who did his work... destroying what the people here created. But, someone here had made a call to the local department requesting that a so called Blade Runner be sent immediately, with the equipment necessary to administer the Voigt-Kampff test.

So, here he stood, waiting. Farther out, in the city proper, the last refined fuels left were buring, belching smoke and soot into the air. What had in years previous been called pollution now helped to keep the radioactive dust from settling by bonding it with more inert substances. The lesser of two evils. At least it was mildly decorative.

At last, someone came to greet him. She was young... maybe twenty, with spiky blond hair and an embarrassed blush on her face. She wore a white blouse and a navy blue skirt, with a matching blue jacket slung over her shoulders. She stopped before him and gave a quick bow/nod of the head.

"My apologies for being late, Mr. Wrikman." she said in a faintly Russian accent, "We've been a bit of a fix of late, what with the Chairman's death and all. Please, follow me." Turning tail, she led off into the building.

The main office was shockingly grandiose, a gothic effect created by the stone pillars and high vaulted quasi-stained glass windows. Clashing with this stood a pair of massive fans, which seemed to serve nothing other than giving the room an utterly dominating effect over those within it. The girl, who had not yet introduced herself, noticed his expression as he surveyed the room.

"Terrible, isn't it?" she said, somewhat rhetorically, "The Rosens had such a bizarre sense of decor. Thanks goodness we're having it redecorated after..." the girl paused, smiling at him. "After you give me the test."

"Excuse me?" Norish asked, turning away from the electric owl, "Why do you want to take the test?" The girl grinned, extending her hand.

"My name is Nikira Yachavich." she stated chirpily, "And I'm the new Chairman of Rosen Association, Head Director of Cyber-Neural Research." He shook her hand. "Or rather, I will be once you've given me the Voigt-Kampff test and signed a paper stating that I am human."

As he released her hand, she reached into her desk and produced an official document. As he read over it, she pointed to the line where he was to sign. "Looks good to me." Norish said, shrugging, "Give me a minute to set up my equipment."

"Take your time." she said, wandering to the other side of the room, a set of wall paper samples in one hand.

"You need to place this pad on your face," he told her a moment later, "And look into this light. It'll monitor your reactions while I ask you the questions." She nodded and left her samples on a table before sitting down. Once she was settled in, he began. "I'm going to give you some situations. Tell me how you would respond to them. And remember to pay attention, as response time is a factor."

"Got it." she said, her gray eyes sparkling regardless of the light being shined into one of them.

Norish shuffled his papers, then selected an easy question to begin with. "You are given a calf-skin wallet for you bir-"

"Not REAL calf-skin, I hope!" the girl protested, the little needle on flicking from green to red. Wrikman noted the response.

"You are watching an old movie on TV," he continued, "a movie from before the war. It shows a banquet in progress; the guests are enjoying raw oysters." The needles moved, but fell just short of red. "The entree consists of boiled dog, stuffed with rice."

"Uh..." she said, the needle brushing red before it fell back, "Wasn't that a scene from an Indiana Jones movie?" The girl paused, shaking her head. "No wait, that was boiled monkey brain. Ugh!" The needles hit red again. Norish chuckled slightly as he marked his paper.

"You're sitting watching TV and suddenly you discover a wasp crawling on your wrist." he read.

"I'd flick my wrist to get it off." she replied, "And if it came back, I'd shoo it away." The needles didn't move.

"You meet a little boy and he shows you his butterfly collection--"

"Oh!" she interrupted, the needles pegging, "That is such a barbaric hobby! And illegal!" Norish watched the needles. Response time above normal...

"In a magazine you come across a full-page color picture of a nude girl." Wrikman said. The needles stayed put. "Your husband likes the picture."

"Pfft..." she murmured, smiling slightly. The needles didn't move.

"The girl is lying face down on a large and beautiful bearskin rug."

"Not real, right?" Nikira asked, the needles flickering slightly in concern, "A vat grown reproduction? I had one of those when I was little... it was so soft... I used to..." The facial needle pegged red as Nikira blushed visibly. "To do what the girl in the photo did... alone in my room."

Norish paused, then started looking for the next question. "Never mind." he told her. Any response now would be too little too late. "You're dating a man and he asks you to visit his apartment. While you're there he offers you a drink. As you stand holding your glass you see into the bedroom; it's attractively decorated with bullfight posters--"

"In his dreams, maybe." she huffed, the needles hitting red, "What kind of barbarian would have Bullfighting posters in his room?" She paused, the reading dropping slowly. "The same kind that'd have an insect collection, I suppose. Freaks."

"You become pregnant by a man who has promised to marry you." Norish continued, "The man goes off with another woman, your best friend."

"Bastards..." Nikira muttered, smiling knowingly.

"You get an abortion and--"

"Hold on!" Nikira snapped, the meters hitting red again, "This may be a test, but that's bullshit. I'd never get an abortion. I don't need a fucking man to bring up my baby."

"Sorry," Norish replied, inspight of himself. "We're almost done here. I just need one more question from my briefcase."

Time for the kicker, Wrikman thought as he hoisted her case up onto the table. "Nice isn't it?" he asked conversationally, "Department issue." He patted the syntha-leather case lovingly. "Its Babyhide. One hundred percent ge--"

"Bullshit," Nikira huffed, "you're just trying to fluster me."

Norish Wrikman, however, was more intent on the meters. Her reaction time was perfect. Dispight her denial, the readings had hit red, and hit deep.

"Congratulations, Ms. Yachavich-"

"Mrs." she corrected. "My husband works here also."

"Mrs. Yachavich," Norish corrected, "You've tested out as human." With a nod, he leaned over and signed her paper, smiling as he handed it back to her.

The girl smiled oddly at the paper, then slid it into a folder and put it away in her desk. "Thank you, Mr. Wrikman," she said, flashing him an odd smile, "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that."

"You're very welcome." he said, standing. As he moved to collect his equipment, Nikira wandered over to watch.

"I don't suppose you've ever heard of the Genesis3 model Android, have you?" she inquired, once again flipping through her wall paper samples. At the mention of the Andy, he paused. Norish didn't recognize the make.

"Its our newest product, so I suppose you wouldn't have." she continued, "Its a brand new concept in Replicant technology... Empathy development."

"Empathy Development?" Wrikman asked, turning away from his papers. "You mean Andys that could emulate empathy?"

"Not emulate it, Mr. Wrikman... feel it." She turned away from the giant fans, her gray eyes gleaming again. "Androids... Replicants... that would have the same emotions... the same ability to care and have empathy as we do. Love, Mr. Wrikman. Androids that could love."

"You've made Andys with empathy??" Norish demanded, his testing equipment forgotten, "But... what about... how do they test on the Voigt-Kampff scale?" A scale based off an android's lack of empathy.

"The G3 models test, on the Voigt-Kampff scale," Nikira began, "As legal humans." Gray eyes sparkling, Nikira Yachavich grinned at Norish Wrikman's look of absolute horror. "It seems only appropriate that a Replicant become the new Chairman, er.. Chair Woman of Rosen Association, don't you think?"

"Good God..." Norish said, stepping back. He'd just handed her... IT... the entire Rosen Association on a platter.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Wrikman." Nikira called as he stumbled, dazed, from her office. "Now Scrappy," Nikira said, addressing the electronic owl perched next to her desk, "Which do you like better, the blue or the red?" She held the book of samples up to the owl, which hooted. "Yeah, I like the red too." she said, grinning.