I looked down at my gun, or ‘blade’, which I thought of as my partner. Yes, partner, you and me better do some ‘running’ soon. And by running, I mean shooting. Yes, ‘blade running’ really means ‘gun shooting’. Specifically, shooting robots. I explained all this to my partner or ‘blade’. Or ‘gun’.
Another robot? Robots here. And even more robots there. Goshdarnit, sometimes I think there’s just too many robots all up in this city. It’s okay for me to think this. After all, I’m a robot too.
The lady with the cigarette was Lieutenant Joshi. My boss. A boss is a person who employs another. I was the employee, a person who works in return for currency. A cigarette is a type of drug that is set on fire.
I thought about the city. I thought about the girl. I thought about robots. I thought about what if the city was a robot, but real big-like. A mega-bot, with buildings for arms and such. Then I thought about living inside the arm or leg of a big city-robot. The head would be the best place, but on my salary, I’d only be able to afford armpit or butt.
I stared at the horse some more. Cool horse. What I liked about the horse was how symbolic it was. Like, really symbolic. Symbolic to the max, baby! What a horse. Staring at various objects can be fun.
Yeah, I drink. What of it? I’m damaged goods, and this adds to the tragedy of whatever is going on. What is going on, anyway? I’ve just got a killer buzz on right now. Trust me, it’s just a light buzz.
Is it me, or are there a ton of literary allusions floating around right now? Like, biblical references and stuff? I swear I heard a dude quoting John Milton, William Blake and suchlike. Oh man, I just realised that they make me quote poetry by Nabokov daily. How Kafkaesque. Oh wow, now even I’m doing it. This. Is. Blowing. My. Mind.
Do replicants think like humans? Do humans think like replicants? I didn’t really know much about their inner brain workings, but I knew I could use my brain to think thoughts in my head, like this. Just thinking and thinking. Good thing no-one can hear these thoughts. If they could, would I be thinking like this? Probably not. Thinky-think-think. I could go for a drink. Hey, that rhymes.
As I laid back on the stairs, I thought about everything that had happened. Just a ton of events. One after the other. And all of them had led to this point, I guess? To be honest, I drifted off for a bit in the middle. Did I “get” it? No. But this ending part sure seems meaningful.