The not-immortal Blacksmith

“Bob” woke up alone. The cot that had been dragged out of storage to replace the bed he and “Hank” had shared was cold and barren by comparison. He sat up and smelled the air. Ozone. He removed the DDVR headset and looked at it. The plastic, originally pristine a few weeks ago, was blackened by char, and cracked. The network jack on his left wrist was also scorched, and would probably never function again. He realized, staring at the jack, that with the damage it had obviously taken he shouldn't be able to feel his arm, let alone move it. As he stared, the wiring that attached the jack to his nerves, and even running to his brain, slowly started to ooze from his body. He watched in horror as the whole assembly dropped onto the cot, and lay still.

He stood, naked, and waked to the bathroom. He calmly started the shower and cleaned himself from head to toe. The funeral was, he glanced at his watch implant on the back of his left wrist, only to find that it as well was gone. He shook his head. Staring into the mirror, he could see...something behind his eyes. Something...malevolent and angry. It glowed dimly there, lying in wait. He blinked to clear his vision and it was gone.

"Bob," he said aloud, "When is the funeral?"

"Master Frank, the funeral is in three hours. Shall I call a cab?" Bob, the apartments AI responded.

"Yes, please do. Also, do a search for that programmer, Allen Kilson, use hubby's credentials, I want to know every move he makes." Frank said.

"Yes Master Frank." Bob replied. Then in a quiet voice, "I miss him too, Frank."

“I know Bob, I know."

*-*-*

The wake, funeral and interment had taken almost six hours, and Frank was tired, very tired. He stumbled a little when he exited the cab at the downtown apartment complex where he and his husband had lived. As the cab took off to catch it's next fare, Frank looked up at the building, all 70 stories of it, and sighed. The whole ordeal was done. His husband of 3 years was in the ground, their friends and family had cried. Goodbyes had been said. It was over. Time for the hunt to begin. In the morning.

He rode the lift to the 48th floor, walked the overly bright, crystal lined hallway to the apartment, opened the door and fell inside. He lay on the cold floor for a long while, weeping. Eventually he stood, walked to the couch, fell into it, and slept.

*-*-*

The bright morning sunlight fell across Frank's face, waking him almost instantly. He squinted into the light, and stood up. He wandered to the bath, shedding clothes along the way. A long, scalding hot shower later, he slowly wandered to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, before returning to the bedroom to dress for the day. 10 minutes, and a black business casual outfit later he made his way back to the kitchen for coffee.

Coffee now in hand, he sat at the antique wooden dining room table. "Bob, bring up what you found." He says aloud.

"Here you are, Master Frank." Bob replied.

A holograph appeared in the air in front of Frank, he waived a hand in the air, and a keyboard appeared as well. “Okay, so he has withdrawn all his money from the account and is fleeing towards Chicago. Task a tracking drone on him, I want this thing myself."

"Of course, sir." Bob said, then, "I do worry that the military will remove Joseph's credentials soon. If that should happen, what are my instructions?"

"I know you can cut your way through the security. Keep him covered." Frank replied.

"Very good, sir." Bob said. "Should I call a cab, or would you like a car from storage?"

Frank sat in thought for a few moments, "Bob, please get my bike from storage."

"Oh, good choice sir. I will have it available in a few minutes. I will send a full link to the bike's AI." Bob replied.

"Good. By the way Bob, I don't have an interface jack anymore. Please have the AI update my profile based on that." Frank informed Bob.

"I worried that may be the case. Shall I make an appointment to have a new one installed?" Bob asked.

Frank paused for a moment before responding, "No. I think that won't be needed. I have a feeling that I won't be coming back from this ride."

"Very good, sir. It has been a pleasure to serve you." Replied Bob.

Without another word, Frank departs his apartment for what he assumed would be the last time.

*-*-*

The bike; an old model 2048 Ducati Superleggera V6, that had been updated with an AI assisted control module, and lovingly painted bright cherry red; brought forth a flood of happy memories to Frank. Riding with his husband, camping, the little town of Boquillas Mexico on the Rio Grand... He wiped tears from his eyes, put on the full face helmet, and headed out onto the open road.

The large red motorcycle rumbling between his legs, the wind whipping past his body, Frank felt good for what felt like the first time in years. The chase was on, and Chi town waited.

*-*-*

Allen Kilson sat on his bed in a small hotel room, just outside of the Chi-town metroplex. It had been a dark past few days. The magic from his counterpoint in the other world had stopped, and he had almost burned through his supply keeping up his human form. He dropped his human disguise, and spread his 7 foot frame over the bed. He had spotted the drone following him yesterday, had tried to shake it by taking the train, but it picked him up at the next station when he had departed. This was different from his normal experience, where he was the hunter. This world was too strange, too different from his own. I just need to get to the gate, and I can get home. Screw this place!

He heard a noise at the door, just before it was kicked in. He jumped to his feet, clawed fingers splayed out, ready to rake across the unfortunate intruder. The intruder slowly stepped into the room, arms spread like it was going to hug him. Then it started to glow.

*-*-*

Frank stopped and parked the bike outside of a small hotel just outside of Chicago. He gingerly placed his helmet on the seat and headed inside, following his senses as much as the AI talking into his earbud. He rode the elevator to the second level, turned left down the dingy corridor, and stopped halfway to the end. Raising a foot, he kicked the door next to the knob. The door frame splintered as the door slammed open.

Frank spread his arms wide, letting the malevolent power inside him free, and he started to glow.

*-*-*

A local Diner, some time later.

The diner was loud, it being just after bar close and the old school flat screen TV in the corner was blaring an episode of “3's Company” when it was interrupted by a news report.

***We interrupt this program with a special report***

“Police were called earlier tonight when a man kicked his way into a motel room, and set it on fire, killing the rooms occupant. Police have no leads in this case, and are looking for information..”

Frank; sitting alone in a booth about halfway between the door and the far corner; tuned out the news broadcast, drank his cup of coffee, and tried to plan out the rest of his life.

End.