Why should anything make sense?” I asked him.,
Her not knowing what
plus, a loyal, trouble free compain, given to you upon arrival.
A toaster with a fuzzy logic heuristic chip could think.
If the chip included a feedback loop of the toaster’s own sensors, it cvould feel. Not necessarily from the toaster’s point of view, but from your point of view. If the toaster ran away from the for5k you tried to stick in it, what’s the difference?
Poor jerk had no idea what was waiting for him.
That’s what it said on the chickenhead’s sign. He was going for mad prophet look, sackcloth and ashes, sandals, big scraggy beard. I guess if you’re going to go for it, you got to go all the way.
He marched up to me before
Made you see his point of view.
“What’s this?”
Nexus Six.
New model?
New model. They were designed to copy human beings in every way except their emotions. The designers reckoned that after a few years, they might develop their own emotional responses.
Emotional responses?
You know, hate, love, fear, anger, envy.
“Hate, love, fear, anger, envy. Oh, you mean feelings. Right.”
“Yeah. Feelings. Emotional responses. What’s the diference.”
Bryant had all the subtley of a first time shoplifter who tought he could walk off with a six pack in front of the owner because he wouldn’t believe his eeyes.
This was bullshit.
Bullshit in plain sight.
I alled him on it.
“Hell Brayant, the Fives had emotional responses. You know that. You’re ta,king soiphisticated emotional responses.”
He nodded his head.
“Yo9u’re talking empathy.”
He nodded his head. He didn’t want to say ity out loud.
Neither did I.
Empathy was the thing we used to tell the difference between replicants and people. It was the basis of the BVoight Kampf test. Empathy. It’s the thing made us human. And OK to kill them. We had it and they didn’t it. If they had it, we were Nazis in flying cars.
He tried to talk around it.
They don’t have time to develop it, asshole.
Why not?
They built in a fail-safe device.
Which is what?
Four-year life span.
So they built in a fail-safe device...Four year life span.
That’s the reason for the four-year life span, asshole. They don’t have time to develop it.
Rachel thought you’d developed it.
That’s just conditioning.
But you caught it.
So called big step forward in genetic design—illegal on earth.
I think you could rule out the climate.
Career advancement?
They were better off out in the colonies where they could blend in.
Apart from the four year life span, if they escaped, they had it made. Go to any planet or moon they wanted to. Whatever job a human could do, they could do it better.
Humanity was fighting to get off this rock.
Why would they want to come back.
You could call it growing slaves, depending on whether you were polite or not.
You could call it commerce.
It shook me up
The VK test was bullshit. A happy bedtime story for the chickenhead public.
Testing their feelings was ass-backwards.
Think about it.
If Tyrell had wanted to, he could have put a tag in the Replicant’s junk DNA—a unique genetic marker humans don’t have. Hell, the things could have cellular serial numbers, like animoids. They didn’t.
Genetically, they were indistinguishable from you, me or the Pope. 48 chromosomes, yhr usual sequences. Phenotypically, they had all the right parts in all the right places. If they acted human, there was no way to tell.
Of course, Tyrell could have given the Blade Runner units the data about the sequences he’d lifted from wolves, apes, and the rest of it. We could’ve tagged them with that. A drop of blood, a flake of skin, no more of this “What are youre feelings about your mother” shit.
But he wanted to keep it copyright.
That’s what he said.
Earth had turned to shit. You could also call it Dante’s Inferno, hell for you illiterates, but shit really says it better. Clichés being usually true rue most of the time, the road to hell started out with good intentions.
Back in the 82 a Chinese genius hit on a practical for4m of broadcast energy. Magnetic resonance, Tesla’s old idea. He’d filled in the missing papers and it worked. Came to him in a dream, he said.
He tinkered on it, kept it to himself.
Then they launched it in the early 1990s.
A wave of global prosperity radiated out from china, along with nearly free energy in the air. Skyscrapers popped up like toadstools on a scale nobody had ever seen. As an added bonus, the Chink’s gadget made faster than light space travel possible. As another bonus, it kicked computing power ahead by 560 years. That in turn, jump started the genetic engineering. Before you know it, they were cranking out electyric sheep and humanoid butlers in the labs. Then it all turned to shit. Sorry. Hell.
Free energy came with a price. We just didn’t know it.
The broadcast energy was screwing around with the arth’s ecosystem, ripping holes in the ozone layer, and blkasting apart the climate. In 2001, it just started raining and never stoip[ped. The resonant effect had another unintended conseqiemce/ It messed with whatever it was birds use to migrate instead of those little maps on your dashboard. It messed with their biologivcal clocks, so they couldn’t get to sleep or never woke up. First the owls died. Then species after species went with them. Not just birds. Bears, wolves, you name it, people too. The killing started. Suicides, murder, sick stuff out of the kind of magazines I don’t read. That so-called full moon effect happened 24/7.
The Chinese genius killed himself. I figure if he’d done it in 1993, it would’ve beeen better.
We pulled the plug on cheap energy, went back to the dirty stuff,
Petroleum. Methane. Some half-hearted attempts at wind. No solar, cause you couldn’t see the sun anymore.
China, the original source of the power, was wasteland. California up to Oregon was flooded with refugees from the Pacific Rim. America was a wasteland too. But a nicer wasteland, so the refugees kept coming.
Back in 2006, they made the damn things illegal on earth. It started with the Nexus 3 Generation. They had the IQ of your average mouth breather in the back of the class, but they looked human, they were made from human DNA, some wolf, ape, bat what have you thrown in, but still mostly human. And they could think. They had a sense of themselves as a person.
Religious types began objexcting. Hell they worried about fetuses, this couldn’t be good.
What if Did replicants have souls? That kind of thing.
The Tyrell corporation cleverly defined humanity, not as intelligence, not as self-consciousness, but empthjay. The ability to put yourself in other people’s shoes.
But, just to keep the religious types happy, they decided to make replicants illegal on earth. But that was bullshit.
They didn’t give a shit about the religious typers.
The Nexcus Fours had no emptathy,m but they did have primitive emotions and a primitive sense of self. The word for that is sociopath. They were Charlie Mansons and Starkweathers. You couldn’t program them not to kill like the robots in the old stories. Organiuc beings. You had to condition them, aversion therapy with electric shocks and other pretty things. Every now and then, the conditioning broke and the damn things went apeshit. Keeping them out in space kept them out of sight, out of mind. And if your tireless servant ever did slit your throat with a rusty tin can lid, that was jus the price of progress. They were constantly improving the product. Just like zippers in the early 20th century. The first ones didn’t work so good.
Some of the replicants made it to earth, hding in container cargo ships like rats. There was also a black market. Chickenheads on earth who felt entitled to free slaves, free sex, and didn’t understand how bad it could get if the damn things weren’t constantly monitored.
I chased them down and killed them in ways that aren’t appropriate for dinner table conversation. I had no emptahbty for them. The things were killers. I’d seen their handiwork. Efficient killers. Not even evil killers. Defectiv merchandise. Biological machines that needed to be turned off.
Whoever it is you’re chasing I hope you catch him.
I rooted for the hunter.
The hunter. Or the hunted.
I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
Jesus deck, you fall on your head or something.
There's a chance the Nexus-6 is beyond out ability to detect.
If that's the case, everybody's up shit creek.
Deckard
- I'm Deckard. Blade Runner. Two sixty-three fifty-four. I'm filed and monitored.
- I was quit when I came in here. I'm twice as quit now.
- In response to news that he is wanted on another assignment as a "blade runner" — an officer of the law who "retires" renegade "replicants."
- Replicants are like any other machine. They're either a benefit or a hazard. If they're a benefit, it's not my problem.
- One more question. You're watching a stage play. A banquet is in progress. The guests are enjoying an appetizer of raw oysters. The entree consists of boiled dog....
- Question on the Voight-Kampf test that Rachel "fails" when she shows more empathy for the oysters than the dogs, indicating that she's faking her response.
- I don't get it, Tyrell. How can it not know what it is?
- On Rachael not knowing that she is a replicant.
- Memories, you're talking about memories.
- [Revealing to Rachael that she is a replicant] You ever tell anyone that? Your mother, Tyrell? They're implants. Those aren't your memories, they're somebody else's. They're Tyrell's niece's. OK, bad joke, I'm sorry... No, really, I made a bad joke. Go home, you're not a Replicant... (sigh) you wanna drink? I'll get you a drink.
- I've had people walk out on me before, but not when I was being so charming.
[edit] Voiceovers
- These were expunged from the Director's Cut version. It has been said that both Scott and Ford were unhappy with the dialogue, as it was forced by the studio and was written by another scriptwriter (Roland Kibbee) not associated with the project. They can still be found in International editions, and all were spoken by Harrison Ford.
- They don't advertise for killers in the newspaper. That was my profession. Ex-cop. Ex-blade runner. Ex-killer.
- Sushi. "Cold Fish." That's what my ex-wife used to call me.
- The charmer's name was Gaff, I'd seen him around. Bryant must have upped him to the Blade Runner unit. That gibberish he talked was city speak, gutter talk. A mishmash of Japanese, Spanish, German, what have you. I didn't really need a translator, I knew the lingo, every good cop did. But I wasn't going to make it easier for him.
- "Skin jobs". That's what Bryant called Replicants. In history books he's the kind of cop who used to call black men "niggers".
- I'd quit because I'd had a belly full of killing. But then I'd rather be a killer than a victim, and that's exactly what Bryant's threat about "little people" meant. So I hooked in once more thinking if I couldn't take it I'd split later. I didn't have to worry about Gaff. He was brown-nosing for a promotion, so he didn't want me around anyway.
- Tyrell really did a job on Rachael. Right down to a snapshot of a mother she never had... a daughter she never was.Replicants weren't supposed to have feelings... neither were blade runners. What the hell was happening to me? Leon's pictures had to be as phony as Rachael's. I didn't know why a Replicant would collect photos. Maybe they were like Rachael... they needed memories.
- The report would be routine retirement of a Replicant. Which didn't make me feel any better about shooting a woman in the back. There it was again... feeling in myself... for her... for Rachael.
- I don't know why he saved my life. Maybe in those last moments he loved life more than he ever had before. Not just his life... anybody's life... my life. All he'd wanted was the same answers the rest of us want. Where do I come from? Where am I going? How long have I got? All I could do is sit there and watch him die.
- Gaff had been there, and let her live. Four years, he figured. He was wrong. Tyrell had told me Rachael was special: no termination date. I didn’t know how long we had together... who does?
[edit] Bryant
- Don't be an asshole, Deckard. I've got four skin-jobs walking the streets.
- He can breathe OK as long as nobody unplugs him.
- Stop right where you are! You know the score, pal! If you're not a cop, you're "little people."
- Christ, Deckard, you look almost as bad as that skin-job you left lying in the street!
- Talk about beauty and the beast — she's both.
- The only way you can hurt him is to kill him.
[edit] Eldon Tyrell
- Milk and cookies kept you awake, eh, Sebastian?
- The light that burns twice as bright, burns half as long. And you have burned so very, very brightly, Roy.
- Commerce is our goal here at Tyrell. "More human than human" is our motto.
[edit] Rachael
- Have you ever retired a human by mistake?
- Is this testing whether I'm a Replicant or a lesbian, Mr. Deckard?
- I'm not in the business. I am the business.
- You know that Voigt-Kampf test of yours? Did you ever take that test yourself?
[edit] Leon
- Painful to live in fear, isn't it?
- Nothing is worse than having an itch you can never scratch.
- Wake up! Time to die!
- My mother? Let me tell you about my mother.
[edit] Roy Batty
- Fiery the angels fell; deep thunder rolled around their shores; burning with the fires of Orc.
- This is a deliberate misquote of William Blake's America: A Prophecy "Fiery the angels rose, and as they rose deep thunder roll'd. Around their shores: indignant burning with the fires of Orc."
- Chew, if only you could see what I've seen with your eyes!
- It's not an easy thing to meet your maker.
- I want more life, father.
- In the "Final Cut" version, the line above is "I want more life, fucker." The line also has a noticeably deeper tonal quality than the previous versions.
- I've done questionable things.
- Can the maker repair what he makes?
- Proud of yourself, little man?
- After hunting down Deckard, who had already killed Pris.
- Not very sporting to fire on an unarmed opponent. I thought you were supposed to be good. Aren't you the... "good" man?
- C'mon Deckard, show me... what you're made of... [pulls Deckard's hand through the wall and removes his gun]... This is for Zora [breaks finger] and this is for Pris [breaks another] You gotta shoot straight! [Deckard shoots and misses] Straight doesn't seem good enough!
- You better get it up. Or I'm gonna have to kill ya.
- We're not computers, Sebastian, we're physical.
- After Sebastian asks Roy and Pris to "do something"
- Good! That's the spirit!
- After Deckard beats him across the head with a lead pipe.
- That...hurt. That was irrational. Not to mention, unsportsman-like. Ha ha ha. [pause] Where are you going?
- After Deckard being beaten with a lead pipe.
- Quite an experience to live in fear, isn't it? That's what it is to be a slave.
- Standing over Deckard as he hangs from the side of the building.
- I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I've watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those ... moments will be lost in time, like tears...in rain.
Time to die.- Last words
[edit] Taffey Lewis
- Louie, the man is dry. Give him one on the house.
- Blow.
- All the time, pal.
[edit] Others
- Gaff: You've done a man's job, sir! I guess you're through, huh?
- Gaff: It's too bad she won't live. But then again, who does?
- Holden: Now tell me, in single words, only the good things that come into your mind when you think about your mother?"
- PA Voice: A new life awaits you in the Off-World colonies. The chance to begin again in a golden land of opportunity and adventure!
- Holden: The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs, trying to turn itself over but it can't. Not without your help. But you're not helping.
- Hannibal Chew: I do eyes. Just - just eyes. Just genetic design. Just eyes. You Nexus, huh? I design your eyes."
- Hannibal Chew: You not come here! Illegal!
- J.F. Sebastian: They're my friends. I make them.
- J.F. Sebastian: There's some of me in you.
- Pris: Then we're stupid, and we'll die.
- Pris: I think, Sebastian, therefore I am.
- Zhora: Are you for real?
[edit] Dialogue
- Holden: Now tell me, in single words, only the good things that come into your mind when you think about...your mother?
- Leon Kowalski: My mother?
- Holden: Yes.
- [Leon leans forward, speaking in a soft, angry tone]
- Leon Kowalski: Let me tell you about my mother! [shoots Holden]
- Tyrell: I'm surprised you didn't come here sooner.
- Roy: It's not an easy thing to meet your maker.
- Tyrell: What can he do for you?
- Roy: Can the maker repair what he makes?
- Tyrell: Would you like to be modified?
- Roy: I had in mind something a little more radical.
- Tyrell: What seems to be the problem?
- Roy: Death.
- Tyrell: Death. Well, I'm afraid that's a little out of my jurisdiction, you...
- Roy: I want more life, fucker (father).
- Tyrell: The facts of life: To make an alteration in the evolvement of an organic life system is fatal. A coding sequence cannot be revised once its been established.
- Roy: Why not?
- Tyrell: Because by the second day of incubation, any cells that have undergone reversion mutations give rise to revertant colonies like rats leaving a sinking ship; then the ship sinks.
- Roy: What about EMS recombination?
- Tyrell: We've already tried it. Ethyl methane sulfonate is an alkylating agent and a potent mutagen. It created a virus so lethal the subject was dead before he left the table.
- Roy: Then a repressor protein that blocks the operating cells.
- Tyrell: Wouldn't obstruct replication, but it does give rise to an error in replication so that the newly formed DNA strand carries a mutation and you've got a virus again. But this - all of this is academic. You were made as well as we could make you.
- Roy: But not to last.
- Tyrell: The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long, and you have burned so very very brightly, Roy. Look at you. You're the prodigal son. You're quite a prize!
- Roy: I've done questionable things.
- Tyrell: Also extraordinary things. Revel in your time!
- Roy: Nothing the god of biomechanics wouldn't let you into heaven for.
- Batty: Yes! [smiles] Questions... Morphology? Longevity? Incept dates?
- Chew: Don't know, I don't know such stuff. I just do eyes, juh, juh... just eyes... just genetic design, just eyes. You Nexus, huh? I design your eyes.
- Batty: Chew, if only you could see what I have seen with your eyes.
- Police Officer in a Spinner: This sector's closed to ground traffic. What are you doing here?
- Deckard: I'm working. What are you doing?
- Police Officer in a Spinner: Arresting you. That's what I'm doing.
- Deckard: I'm Deckard. Blade Runner. Two sixty three-fifty four. I'm filed and monitored
- Police Officer in a Spinner: Hold on. Checking. [pause] Okay, checked and cleared. Have a better one.
- Roy: [taunting Deckard with a counting rhyme] Six! Seven! Go to Hell or go to Heaven!
- [Deckard beats Roy on the side of the head with a lead pipe]
- Roy: Good! That's the spirit!
Nothing.
Nothing/
He grunted.
We warn them, right?
No. no warning.
Is that from Bryant, or is this from you?”
He didn’t answer.
“What’s the alternative plan? Just sit on our ass? Sit and wait while they pick off the zaibatsu one by one?"
It's not my decsison.
and just wait for the four-year lifespan to kick in?"
It's not my decision.
"How do you explain the killing spree?"
"Happens all the time."
He was right about that. But something didn’t add up.
If I wanted revenge I wouldn’t go after zaibatsu. I’d go after –
"We're the bait huh? I'm the bait? The replicants find me. You find them?"
City speak for you’re a psychotic paranoid asshole.
Gaff’s way of saying yes.
From that point on, I worked alone.
I thought I was looking for then. But somewhere out there, the replicants were looking for me. Killers. Better killers. That was the plan. He hadn’t been planning to tell me.
I should’ve been worried, but I wasn’t. I didn’t believe his Gaff’s comic book theory.
Robots on the rampage seeking revenge. That’s what robots do, right? Guys like us gew up with those comic books. We’re ready to believe that shit.
I kept thinking about Chew.
Kept seeing him in my mind.
The poor pathetic guy, stark naked, frozen to death.
Why?
Make it look like an industrial accident, like his suit malfunctioned. Get rid of the guy at the front desk like he just got fed up with his job and ran off. Throw us off the scent. That’s the smart thing to do.
But they made it obvious.
Why strip him naked? What’s the point?
It’s cruel. Too obviously cruel.
Why?
So it would look like revenge.
So we’d think that.
That was the point.
The one I kept to myself.
She figured i6t out easily enough.
They wanted life.
Only Turell could help them woith that.
Can’t you see what they’re after? Who they’re looking for?
Who?
God.
Metaphysics?
Hai batka-tai.
JF and Roy hadn’t arrived yet. I found out later he was telling the truth.
The machine enhances and reveals hidden details by blowing up the multi-dimensional layers within the photograph. Deckard, after perceptively exploring the unsettling details of the photo, discovers the mirror images of a showgirl's shimmering gown in a closet, and a sleeping woman with a snake tattoo on her left cheek - presumably replicant Zhora.
It interpolated the three dimensional space implied by the 2-D photograph. Interpolated stuff the camera didn't see based on reflections and shadows.
Why are they back on earth is the obvious question.
Leon must’ve found Hannibal Chew’s address from the personael files at tyrell. The other two victims worked out int he open. Took out ads, you know?
[Deckard's apartment, Deckard uses the Esper machine]
Deckard:
Enhance 224 to 176. Enhance, stop. Move in, stop. Pull out, track right, stop. Center in, pull back. Stop. Track 45 right. Stop. Center and stop. Enhance 34 to 36. Pan right and pull back. Stop. Enhance 34 to 46. Pull back. Wait a minute, go right, stop. Enhance 57 to 19. Track 45 left. Stop. Enhance 15 to 23. Give me a hard copy right there.
he dropped me off.
I couldn’t get her out of my head
Maybe she could figuyre out what they were up to.
I told myself that’s why I was calling.
I couldn’t blame her. I was the smartass that told her the truth.
I should’ve known better.
Who wants to know the tuth? Nobody.
You got a badge. Whadya want? An invitation?
A snake scale. A snake dancer.
My specialty.
I couldn’t just run Vogit Kampf under the circumstances.
Her call, not mine.
I remembered why I quit.
I told myself that.
All I had was a bunch of meaningless snapshots, a flake from a bathtub
Some asshole bumped into him, he fell on the floor and shattered into a million piees.
They locked him in the cold unit without any clothes. He must have been freezing to death by the time I was driving home with a bad case of nerves.
Lesbian Mr. Deckard.
No, the lesbian test comes later.
That’s what I was thinking. They don’t bpay bme to be a smartass. I woulda been asmartass for free, but I don’t think she’d have appreciated it. I wanted her to appreciate me.
I thought my
Batty gouged out the old guy's eyes, crushed his skull.
Batty gouged out the old guy's eyes, crushed his skull.
The Tyrell Corporation put in a new CEO. Mr. Anonymous. First thing he did, he put in a call to the station. New boss wanted to have a talk with Gaff and me. Private like.
Gaff and me was flying on over in his spinner.
What the hell was I going to say?
What were the results of the expoeriment. Well, Mr. Anonymous.
It was a clusterfuck. And that’s putting a happy smiley face on it.
Make a replicant Blade Runner, a dupe of one of the vegetables in cold storage. Get a rep to kill the other reps. He gets killed, make another dupe. Seemed like a good idea at the time, sure.
Not right now, no, I guess not. Yo could say that.
You could say Deck, the copy we made, retired most of the replicants, eventually. But he didn’t finish the job until after Roy killed most of your top research guys and splattered Tyrell all over his office like a traffic accident. I heard it took the cleaning crew three hours to get the blood off the floor. Where is Deckard? Well sir, I forgot to mention, he ran off with the cute one. Gaff here’s going to track ‘em down and make it look like a murder suicide to keep it out of the papes. He’s real good at that kind of thing.
I guess you won’t be handing out any medals to the Blade Runner unit.
Gaff was shitting in his pants. Figured I’d make him the scapecoat muttering that gibberings of his
I says to him don’t be an asshole gaff. The experiment was Tyrell’s idea.
JF’s idea.
Whatever. The runt w2as supposed to jack him up so’s he’s an unstpoppable killing machine and the world’s greatest detective. Ain’t our fault if he fucked up, so take it easy.
We made it in, got through secutiry, the usual.
I went straight to the cryo-lab.
Hey, I’m a sentamentalist at heart. I said goodbye to Deckard, the original, before they pulled the plug on him. Obviously we didn’t keep him down at the station.
How’s it going deck?
Staring up at me like a dead fish.
Hey. That skin job we made, the one walking around with your name, your face and your memories inside your skull? You’ll be happy to know he’s just as good at your job at you were. Your work lives on, Deck. See you later pal.
Hell, it was true. The copy was just just as good. Namely not so good. The Replicants beat the shit –the girls beat the shit out of him and he never figured anything out in time. I didn’t have the heart to tell him. Hurt his feelings, if he was say it. In case he was in there somewhere behind those dead eyes. Didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
Me and Gaff walked down the hall to the top guy’s office. Pretentious architecture. The asshole the3y scraped off the floor obviously wanted you to know he was important. Guess the new asshole would probably redecorate.
Gaff. Hell, I hate to say this. But I got kinda attached to Deckard #2. When you retire hi,m, do it nice and easy. Like a faithful old dog. OK, pal?”
He nodded.
Ever seen Old Yaller?
Hai.
Do it like that.
He nodded, but looked pissed.
“I thought you hated the guy. Whgat’s the goddamn problem?
No problem.
Ain’t no alternative, Gaff. What do you wanna do? Wait till his four year lifetime kicks in?
We entered the office. The shield went down.
“Actually, that wouldn’t work.”
Holy shit.
J.F. Sebastian was sitting like a goddamn elf at the end of the conference table surrounded by Roy, Pris, Leon, Rachel, Deckard, or knockoffs of the originals, anyway. Whatever the hell original means.
He’s a Seven, said the elf. “Nexus Seven. They don’t have a terimination date.
Deckard?
I pointed at Deckard.
The other Deckard. Deckard. The one running off with Rachel.
Deckard and Rachel smiled.
Deckard. The one flying over Oregon right now.
Rachel does though. It’ll break his heart when he dies.
They got all misty eyed at the thought of the broken hearted skinjob.
Gaff was in on it. No point in asking. I could ghear him take his piece out behnd me.
Guess I’m fucked, huh?
Hai.
Sebastian smiled at me.
“You goddamn traitor. You little shit.”
What a potty mouth.
You sold sold out the human race. You went to all this trouble. Just to kill your boss and take his place? You think they’ll let you live, asshole?
You don’t get it.
Mr. Tyrell was a genius. But he was standing in the way of progress.
Progress?
The four year lifespan
It was his idea.
It had to go.
There’s a reason for the four year …
We have empathy now.
We don’t like hurting people.
Unless we have to.
Nobody lives forever, says Leon.
Then the muscleboy with the faggy white hair piped in.
“But four years … it’s hardly fair.
More life.
Roy smiled.
Sebastian smiled.
Stop smiling, you goddamn traitor.
Mr. potty mouth, says Pris. Kick him in the head if he does it again.”
“OK, says Zhora.”
The expiration date? That’s it? That’s why you killed him?
Yeah, says Pris. “The four-year lifespan had to go. Its gone.
And other things.
Other things? Jesus Mary and Joseph.
Pris, Rachel, Zhora. Bellies like goddamn watermelons They were all obviously pregnant.
Then it collapsed.
Its batteries were running down.
Be fruitful and multiply
You want to replace the human species?
No, says Roy. “
Improve the human species with hybrid vigor.
More tolerant of radiation and toxicity.
You designed us in your image. We’ll return the compliment.
Ande build a new Jerusalem. On england’s pleasant pastures green
Goddamn you.
Zhora kicked me in the head.
Sorry, Bryant. But you had fair warning and all.
Cold child
JF. The one in the Bradbury. He’s a knockoff, right?
No, you sonofabitch, I’m the knockoff. JF Sebastian was a hero. He gave his life so others could live.
They got all misty eyed again.
“Slavery,” says Roy. “Genocide. He had ethical qualms. I guess.”
“Gaff to Right pall.”
“I had a talk with the late Mr. Sebastian, says Gaff. “We agreed on the plan. He made a copy. Of himself.
Me, says Sebastian.”
“Then he erased his memories. I did.
You erased his memories. Then what?
Then we and sent him Back to the Bradbury to wait for Roy. He didn’t know it of course. I felt pretty bad about it.
My actions. He smiled apologetically. His actions were predictable.
It works on humans too.
And you predicted it? This was your idea? I thought you always lost at chess.”
“Mr. Tyrell,” he smiled shyly. “I guess I always let him win. Except for the one time.”
“You see the problem,” says Pris. “I think JF is pretty smart.”
What’s the problem.
How do you kill God?
The man who would be God.
You can’t.
Unless, you know, a team of rogue replicants comes looking for more life.
Looking for him.
The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.
A God who can’t deliver
Roy would obviously be disappointed,” said Roy.
But that wouldn’t work. They ain’t gonna get to him. Cause he’s the most highly guarded asshole in the world.
Even more so, after Leon emptied his clip into Holden.
So it’s i9mpossible.
Unless, you know, we put a copy of most incompetent Blade Runner in Rep-Detecs history on the job.
And Gaff feeds you a load of bullshit about their plan to wipe out the little guys.
In a rampage of robot reenge.
Deck goes tearing off in the wrong direction.
You think he’s bait, so you’re looking in the wrong direction.
And we put down breadcrumbs leading Roy.
Original roy.
To a genetic designer with access to Tyrell’s private elevator.
The backdoor to the system.
The one that works on a keycard. With no security camera.
Yeah, OK, I get it.
Fially.
Now what? You erase my memories.
In a manner of speaking.
Deck pulled out his blaster. Aimed it at my forehead.
The fucking things looked sorry for me.
No pain huh? Like an old dog.
No pain.
And that’s the helluva the thing.
“I don’t remember any pain,” I says to Gaff. “So I guess he was telling the truth.”
Gaff smirked.
No pain.
My stomach felt great now.
I poured myself a drink.
L.A. looked just as shitty on the way back.
Batty gouged out the old guy's eyes, crushed his skull.He'd snapped the designer's neck. Painfless and quick. Roy and JF must've hit if off.
The pyramid is the tightest of sphincters.
No, it’s not. I checked the black files. There’s six guys with access to Tyrell--off the security net. Now that chew’s dead, the only one here in LA is JF Sebastian.
So?
So maybe Chew gave Roy his name. Maybe that was the point. Maybe the two are paying Tyurell a social call right now.
It wasn’t a maybe. I found out later.
Fuck you.
Fuck you.
A ge
She had a snake tattoo crawling up on her face. The left side.
Deckard takes his hard-copy ESPER photo of the woman and the scale he found in Leon's bathtub to a section of the city called Animoid Row, a section of stalls that specializes in manufacturing artificial, synthetic animals [in the year 2019, most animals are extinct, so there is a thriving business in synthetic creatures]. He visits a Cambodian woman who makes fish replicas. She examines the scale under an electron microscope, identifying it as "manufactured...finest quality, superior workmanship" with the maker's serial number "9906947-XB71," [it is not identical to the one in the electron microscope image!]. The woman exclaims: "Not fish. Snake scale." It is not a fish scale but an artificial snake scale.
I spit on metaphysics.
You give me that promotion
That big bozo
Kills tyrell
I locked the eoor and left her with a gun if it isn’t me, shoot
She figured out what they wanted they wanted life only T could offer that
I was going to be a hero and save tyrell’s life
Only
The sixth was named
Genetic designer named JF Sebastian
Tyrell’s chess partner.
I figured it out. Yeah I now you think you figured it out. But I figured it out.
He gave me a look that said I’m waiting asshole.
They want life. They’re trying to get to Tyrell. Leon’s winning personality didn’t work. Now they’re trying the subtle approach.
It’s your delusion. You call ‘em.
I can’t get through. Call em, you --
Right now?
Right now.
Yeah, OK.
JF and Roy hadn’t arrived yet. I found out later he was telling the truth.
They were already dead.
Tell ‘em to lock it down.
I did, idiot. They say I’m full of shit. I say you’re full of shit.
You can’t lock it down. It’s off the system. They set it up that way.
You get over there.
Don’t give me orders asshole.
Jesus. Let him die, I don’t give a shit. I’ll get over to Sebastian’s place. If Roy didn’t get there first. Do what you want.
Gaff went over there.
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