THE GIFT
BY: LYNN OSBURN
INSPIRED BY The Gift artwork by: Laura Huser
(DISCLAMER: Big O is the property of
This is Paradigm City...
A city of amnesia...
A city without memories...
"Thank you negotiator. I suppose you'll be wanting the other half of your payment now?"
Roger Smith looked over his client. A tall but relatively unimposing man, Mr.Lasher stood holding his eight month old son. The case had been simple enough, a baby gone missing, a note left in the crib. His first thoughts had gone to Beck. It was his style, straight forward, to the point, no complications. But when word got around that Paradigm Cities top negotiator was on the case, Roger hadn't had any problems catching the kidnappers.
Now little Thomas was back in his father's arms. Roger looked out through his dark glasses at Mr.Lasher. "I understand your company isn't doing to well Mr. Lasher."
The reputed billionaire scoffed as he handed his son over to a nanny. "I fail to understand how that's any of your business. Much less why you'd care as long as your fee is paid." Without another word the man snapped his fingers. A butler strode forward carrying a brown leather bag. Lasher pointed to Roger and the butler politely gave the negotiator the bag.
"I believe...Mr. Smith, that you know the way to the door." Lasher spun on his heel and walked quickly from the room.
"I suppose when your that rich manners aren't expensive enough." Roger Smith commented aloud.
"Oh I suppose Mr.Lasher is occupied with his daughter's cotillion this evening." The butler said absently. "I shall show you the way you Mr. Smith?"
"Thanks, but I can do it myself." Roger dismissed him, looking up at the security camera keeping it's lens trained on his figure.
Dorothy stood out on the edge of the balcony, the wind whipping her hair and dress in an identical rhythm. Dark storm clouds clashed together and a light rain began to fall over the rooftop. The android took in the cold, wet feeling against her latex flesh. She looked down at the people bellow, hurrying to get inside before the storm worsened. Anyone looking up might have thought they saw a suicide jumper. The wouldn't have noticed Dorothy's perfectly stable perch.
"Miss Dorothy."
Dorothy turned at the sound of Norman's voice. Not even the old butler would notice the slight fondness in her eyes for him. With Roger gone at odd hours, the android and housekeeper often kept one another good company. "Yes...Norman. What is it?"
Norman took a pale red package out from under his arm, presenting it too her. Dorothy read the words Main's Dresses on the side at looked at the Norman. "Master Roger requests that you accompany him to an event this evening. He bought this for you to wear."
Dorothy kicked one foot back and flipped gracefully off the ledge. Her arms made a smooth mechanical sound as she took the box from Norman. "Thank you...Norman." She said and moved past him into her room.
It had been something of a shock when she had first moved in with the negotiator and he had given her own room. It had registered that a single man, with only another man around as a companion having a room decorated for a lady was odd, but it was considerable better than the broom closet Wayneright had kept her in during construction. The old man had no idea that after he ejected her disk one night, Dorothy had opened her eyes and had her first conscious thought.
As Dorothy slipped off her black dress and into a full slip, a thin ray of light shone across the floor as the door was opened. "I am dressing...Roger Smith." She said in her soft monotone voice and turned her back to the door. Modesty in an android.
"Well it isn't as if you have something I've never seen before." The negotiator said as he walked in holding a small black jewelry box. He stopped, a little embarrassed as he noticed the disk drive switch on the back of her neck. "Well, maybe a few things."
Dorothy opened the box and pulled out the dress. It was an elegant black and white strapless evening dress. Dorothy slipped on the shoes and stood in front of the full length mirror. It was amazing how much taller she was with the heels on.
Roger looked the android up and down. Their eyes met and the negotiator coughed sternly. "I wanted to tell you this isn't just some ball I'm going to. My former client Mr. Lasher is hiding something."
"The kidnapping case." Dorothy said and Roger nodded.
"His daughter is having her cotillion tonight and I thought it might be a good time to make a gentlemanly appearance." Roger Smith smiled cattishly.
"In other words, Roger Smith, you want to poke your nose around without being watched too closely." Dorothy picked up the dress and held it in front of her in the mirror. "Thank you for the gown." She sat down and started to slip it on.
Roger's arms came down on either side of her neck and Dorothy looked back at her protector. A line of gold passed in front of her eyes and a heavy pressure slide between her cleavage. The android looked down at a beautiful sapphire stone surrounded by large pearls. Questioningly, she looked up at Roger.
"It's something Norman found in an old box." HE said dismissively "I thought since you don't have much jewelry and a cotillion is a bit on the fancy side..." Roger straightened his tie and began to walk out the door. "Be quick Dorothy, I don't believe in being fashionably late."
Dorothy looked at herself ten minuets later in the mirror. The gown fit her frame perfectly, hugging the curves without being too tight against them. The black and white sections changed across the waists, giving her a long, lean appearance that flattered her slim figure.
She lifted a hand to her hair and pulled it up in a tight bun, then let it fall back down to it's normal shape. If she was satisfied with her appearance, she gave no indication as she turned to find Roger.
A small tug against her neck and Dorothy spun in time to see the beautiful necklace Roger had given her catch on the mirrors intricate borders and snap, falling to the floor. In a swift movement she caught the glittering chain and pulled it up, taking the other half from the mirror.
As she turned the gem over in her hands, writing inscribed on the back caught her attention. Dorothy held it closer and read.
"To my darling wife." Roger Smith Sr.
Roger Smith slammed his glass of bourbon down on the table. "What is taking the damn girl so long?" he shouted to no one in particular.
"Well sir women do like to make sure their appearance is proper. And you are taking her to a rather classy place." Norman commented lightly as he swept the floor. It didn't matter that the linoleum was spotless.
"Well it isn't as if she needs makeup or anything Norman." Roger sighed and tapped his finger impatiently. "Any flaws R. Dorothy may have, they certainly aren't in her physical appearance."
"Am I to take that as a compliment...Roger Smith?"
Roger and Norman stopped dead at the sight of the android coming down the stairwell. "Oh my!" Norman smiled and bowed. "Miss Dorothy you do look quite lovely."
"Thank you Norman." Dorothy stepped down and did a small twirl on one foot. Roger's comment had been correct. Dorothy's appearance was flawless. She stopped and looked over at Roger. "Roger, if you leave your mouth open, you will catch flies."
Roger straightened up and fixed his tie. "Well we'd better be going."
Dorothy began to walk towards the elevator only to have Roger's out stretched arm stop her. The negotiator smiled and bent it slightly, offering his arm to a lady. The android looked at it for a moment, then took his arm and followed him out the door.
As they arrived at Lasher's mansion, the place was packed with sleek, expensive cars. People were lined up inside, showing their invitations to a rather large duo of men at the door.
Roger grinned. "Is it just me or does everything require a membership now a days?"
"How do you plan to get a ticket Roger?" Dorothy asked, truly curious.
"Huh? Umm." Roger paused. He hadn't thought that far ahead. "Don't worry Dorothy. Just follow my lead." Roger took Dorothy's arm again and lead her up into the line just as if they belonged there.
"Out of our way!" Roger pulled back Dorothy as an elder man with an extremely young looking debutant on his arm pushed through. "Ruffian." The man called back as they headed for the door.
"Oh darling did you see that tacky dress the girl was wearing?" The woman snubbed as they went out of hearing range. "Talk about last years style."
"This from a woman with enough jewelry to support a small business firm." Roger snickered and continued leading Dorothy up to the doors.
A soft jazz rhythm escaped from the opened windows out into the garden as the Roger and Dorothy approached. The two rude upper class people who'd shoved them inside were directly in front of them.
"Why Roger Smith, what are you doing here?" Dastun appeared behind then
"Why Dastun, you clean up pretty good."
The Chief of Military Police gave an unpleasant growl and tugged at the collar of his tuxedo. "Yeah. Lasher's wife was an old friend of mine before she passed away and I herd the daughter looks quite a bit like her mom."
Dorothy ignored the two men as they fell into conversation. Her attention was on the pair who had shoved them aside. Two invitations stuck precariously from the elder man's pocket as he flirted with his lady. Dorothy's eyes went from the man, to the invitations, and back again.
"So Roger Smith, what's your excuse for being here? I don't remember you being one for uptight galas." Dastun questioned his former underling.
"I've decided to throw my hat into the social ring. These ritzy types always seem to be in need of a negotiator who knows how to keep his mouth shut." Roger's sarcastic edge to his voice made Dastun chortle.
"Since when have you fit that description?"
"I'm telling you I had those damn invitations right here!" The rude old man was yelling at the burly guard as he searched his pockets hurriedly.
"How could you be so stupid as to forget them..." The woman started to yell and was interrupted as Dorothy's pale white arm pushed between them both.
"Excuse me." She said politely. "We have our invitations here."
The guard looked at them briefly. "Go right on ahead miss." He stepped to the side and let Roger and Dorothy past.
"Now just a darn minuet...!"
"Sir if you don't have your invitations I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave!"
Roger smiled at his android lady. "R. Dorothy Wayneright you are something else. I didn't know androids could steal?"
"We can perform any act if it does not directly harm a human being. Androids can lie, cheat, steal, or hurt another android. People often forget that though we are not human, we were programmed by humans. Therefore, we have some of their flaws." Dorothy explained all of this as if it were common knowledge. "The only exception was when R.D attacked you. She was not an android, merely an assassin robot. There is a distinct difference."
Roger laughed lightly and led Dorothy into the gala hall. People packed the room, chatting happily with one another, picking at the treats from the buffet line. Roger took a glass of campaign from a passing waiter and sipped it.
"What are we looking for exactly?" Dorothy asked.
"Actually we're not looking, we're listening. Put those sonar ears of yours to good use Dorothy and see if you can find anyone talking about Lasher's financial situation." Dorothy nodded and Roger watched as she disappeared into the crowd.
Roger leaned back against a column and slipped his dark shades on. For once he didn't stick out like a sore thumb in his stark black business suit and tie. Black and white clothing was almost mandatory at these events and he blended in professionally. Jazz music flooded his ears as he tried to locate Lasher in the party. While Dorothy had the benefit of being able to hear a pin drop in the middle of a tornado, Roger had to rely on his own human senses.
"Did you hear about Anastasias Lasher's gown? Her father had it tailor made for her..."
"I wonder how much ole Lasher is shoveling out for this feast..."
"Did you hear about Thomas Lasher..."
Roger trained his hearing in on the last comment. He moved closer to the source, a group of sharply dressed businessmen sipping sherry and enjoying their conversation.
"Most deffinatly. The old codger hired a Roger Smith, some bottom dollar negotiator from the flats down town."
Roger frowned and grit his teeth together. Considering he had never failed a client yet, he felt he charged a fair price for his assistance. There were negotiators who'd never so much as settled a traffic ticket and charged half a million per client.
"Well that Smith fellow did get the boy back unharmed. Pretty good for a bottom dollar."
"Yes but Lasher's scrapping the barrel as it is. Ever since that deal went sour with Paradigm officials his bank accounts been unstable."
"I herd he's damn near broke."
"If he's so broke, how'd he get up enough to pay for a negotiator's services?"
"He dipped into his wife's insurance policy. Don't you know he's got his whole family insured to the hilt?"
Roger Smith dipped his glasses and smiled. "Bingo."
Dorothy turned as her arm was grabbed and she was gently lead towards the door. "Did you discover what you wanted Roger Smith?" she asked.
"Yep. As it turns out Lasher's got his entire family on an insurance policy."
"You suspect him arranging his son's kidnapping in order to get the money?"
"Yes. And if that's true then not only is he guilty of insurance fraud, but attempted murder."
"Then why would he hire a negotiator?" Dorothy thought as they moved through the crowd. "Especially you?"
Roger laughed at the compliment. "I found out these folks don't see me in too positive of a light. They seem to think I'm some third rate fellow out to scam poor unsuspecting rich guys."
If Dorothy had any more comments on that particular subject, she kept them to herself.
As Roger headed to the doorway a bright light suddenly shined down on the two of them. Roger blocked his eyes as Dorothy stared up into the white glow. "What the..."
A slow well cultured voice spoke into a microphone as more of the same lights turned on. "And now we have a gentle rhythm for you cats who want a sweet beat to swing with your lover to." A deep trumpet began the song as couples began to congregate on the dance floor.
Roger looked at Dorothy, a little unsure. She did look...well-designed in the dress he'd given her. "Dorothy...I don't suppose you..."
The android took one hand and place it comfortable on her hip, taking the other and raising it slightly. Her eyes fuzzed momentarily as her systems read the program. "Dance sequence initiated. Style: Soft jazz."
Roger swung her out onto the ballroom floor attempting to take the lead. Unfortunately, his dancing talent ranged from zero to none. Dorothy looked up when he accidentally stepped on her foot. "Your dancing skills...Roger Smith....are as bad as your fashion sense."
Roger humphed. "Well not all of us are preprogrammed for ballroom dancing." Suddenly, Roger's face became passive and he stopped in the middle of the dance floor. "Dancing." He whispered under his breath.
"Roger?" Dorothy took his hand and looked up at him. "Roger?"
A man and woman were dancing together in a beautifully decorated hall. A small, handsome boy with jet black hair and a square jaw watched his parents as they held each other close. His mother wore the most beautiful pure black evening gown as she held his father close. The two smiled at one another as the man fingered a sapphire necklace around his wife's neck.
Roger Smith suddenly lost his balance and stumbled on the dance floor. He felt a strong arm grab hold of him and pull him to his feet. "What happened Dorothy? Did he have too much to drink?"
"Roger is not in the habit of getting drunk...Chief Dastun." Dorothy led the negotiator over to a chair and sat him down.
Roger opened his eyes blinked dreamily. "Dorothy? What...what happened...?' he looked up into her face and suddenly down around her neck. The bright sapphire jewel gleamed at him like a perfect iris. "That necklace."
Dastun looked at the androids jewelry. "What about it? It's a nice piece and all."
"I should take Roger home...Chief Dastun." Dorothy said suddenly and supported Roger against her body. "Thank you for your help."
As Dorothy took Roger out the car, she began helping him into the passenger side. "Exactly what are you doing R.Dorothy?"
"You are ill...Roger Smith. I am taking you home." Dorothy said simply.
"Dorothy, what is rule # 5?" Roger responded.
"Rule # 5: No one may drive your car but you." Dorothy said.
"Exactly."
Dorothy said nothing, only helped Roger back up and into the driver side.
They were silent to one another until passing over the bridge. Suddenly Dorothy spoke up. "What happened on the dance floor? Besides your lack of grace I mean."
Roger frowned at the female android. "I...I don't know. I think I had a memory."
"Did you? What was it?"
Roger looked out the window as he spoke. "I was in the same dance hall we were in. There was a boy watching his parents dance together. The woman was wearing the sapphire necklace I gave you."
Dorothy removed the necklace and held it in front of her. "I suppose that means you haven't read the back of the necklace."
"Huh?"
Later That Night...
Roger Smith looked over the necklace in his hands.
"To my darling wife." Roger Smith Sr.
He had already questioned Norman on where he'd found the necklace. A search of the basement had turned up nothing but a few gold bracelet bands and a pair of onyx cufflinks with the insignia RS on them in gold script. Each item had been easily visible in his memory. But none of them had the same significance as the necklace.
She was wearing this necklace while they danced.
Roger closed his hand over the sapphire and stood up. "Norman, I'm paying a late night visit to the Lasher place."
"Shall I have breakfast prepared for you when you returned Master Roger?"
"Please do Norman."
Roger Smith leapt over the back wall on the Lasher estate. He watched from a dark corner as the blinking red light of the security camera above his swung from right to left, looking for intruders. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a black can of spray paint. "Nighty night boys." He said, covering the lens with black paint.
He turned the corners carefully, and then stared at the wide opened parapet doors. "No guards?" he stepped out slowly. "This whole place is as dead as a graveyard."
No one challenged him as he walked into the library. Not a soul was in sight as he wandered the rooms freely. Not even a maid doing the late night cleaning. "What's going on here?"
He reached into his pocket and turned on his flash light, casting an eerie glow on the room. Portraits of the family hung in the hallways leading to rooms and rooms of locked doors. Some of them were so well made his adjustable pick couldn't even undo them.
He'd found Lasher's office within a few minuets. Roger was shocked to find it filled with boxes left unpacked and papers strewn about. "Now is this any way for a business man to keep his workplace?" Roger sighed as he began to file through the papers.
All he really needed was bank statements, business charts. Something to prove the possibility of insurance fraud and therefore give people a reason to question the kidnapping of Thomas Lasher. Nine times out of ten, public opinion and outcry had just as much to do with a court sentencing as actual innocence or guilt. And a man who would sacrifice his own son for the insurance claim wasn't one people would want to see out on the streets again.
As he searched through the file cabinets, checking through receipts and creditors notices when he ran across a file titled house payments. Roger flipped through them quickly. "So this house was given to the Lasher family after the previous owners died. That explains how he could have such a large place with only a few thousand in the bank." He flipped over the page and looked down at the deceased signature.
Roger's eyes grew wide as his hands trembled. The signature had been written long hand with a smooth, masculine texture to it. Roger felt his heart stop in his chest as he read the name out loud.
"Roger William Smith Sr."
My...father.
Roger backed up awkwardly, tripping against the desk and causing a pile of papers and boxes to go tumbling. A large canvas fell in front of his eyes and Roger stared into the unfamiliar, yet strangely recognizable faces smiling up at him.
The man had a strong, squared face covered with a trimmed beard. His hair was jet black with distinguished streak of gray in it. One might have found a stern frown on such an imposing man's face but instead a warm, welcoming smile showed itself. A woman in her early thirties with long thick black curls and dark violet eyes sat on a chair with a smooth, pleasant smile on her face. Her hands were folded neatly on her lap, her back straight and tall. Around her neck hung the beautiful sapphire necklace, a gift from husband to wife.
But the most significant thing was not the jewel. It was the small boy, dressed in a suit identical to his fathers, sitting on his mothers lap and playing with her necklace.
"My god." Roger Smith felt beads of sweat trickle down his neck. "It...it can't be..."
An earth shattering sound deafened the negotiator, throwing him to one side. Fire cascaded through the walls and over the carpet. Roger stood up, forgetting everything else and reaching for the picture. Another torrent of flames blew him back as the roof above caved in on top of him, pinning him to the ground. The arrogant red orange blaze licked at the edges of the beautifully painted canvas, slowly blackening the fabric.
"No! No don't you dare!" Roger shouted and pulled himself towards the picture. The necklace seemed to glow on the paper as he tried to get closer, the support beams trapping his legs. Roger choked on the smoke and his eyes watered. He felt his head grow dizzy and began losing strength.
Suddenly, the patio windows crashed open and the slim, red headed figure of Dorothy appeared. Her serene face looked briefly at Roger as she ran towards him, bending down with an oxygen mask. "Here, put this on."
Roger slipped the mask on as Dorothy put a single hand under the heavy wooden beams. With a single jerk she lifted them from the floor, tossing them over her head. "Can you stand...Roger Smith?"
"Yes...I...Dorothy the painting!" Roger looked up just in time to see the wonderful images engulfed completely by the flames, the family crumpled in char and ash. Roger's brow deepened as Dorothy helped him to stand and they made their way out of the quickly ruining mansion.
The Next Day...
Roger Smith stood looking over the balcony in his robe while sipping a cup of strong coffee. He could still taste the twinge of propane and smoke in his mouth as he kept a straight face, betraying as little emotion as Dorothy.
As if on cue, the android walked up quietly beside him, holding the black jewelry box. "What happened to Lasher?"
Roger Smith looked over at he. "Well as soon as the mansion was at ground level he appeared at his insurance agency's office, demanding a paycheck. It had been all over the midnight news by the time he got there so they handed the check over without question. It's a problem for the military police now. But my guess is Lasher's found a place in another section of the domes to hide out for a while."
Dorothy said nothing for a moment, and then turned to Roger. "Here." She said, handing the black case to him. "If this truly is your mother's possession, I think you would like to have it back now."
Roger looked down at the box in his hands and opened it, staring at the azure blue sapphire. "Dorothy!" he called as his mechanical friend began to walk away. He stood behind her and removed the sapphire, placing it around her neck as he had done the night of the dance. "Keep it. As a thank you for saving my life last night."
Dorothy touched the gem as delicately as a mother would touch a babies scalp. "Roger Smith."
"Yes Dorothy."
If that man you spoke of in the painting was your father. That would make you the current Roger Smith Sr...correct?"
Roger smiled thoughtfully and nodded.
"Than...by giving me this necklace...does that make me your wife?"
"What....uh! Umm...that's not exactly how it works...I mean." Roger coughed uncomfortably and set his cup down hard. "Good day Dorothy."
The android touched the sapphire again, not showing anyone the brief, tiny curve at the edge of her lips.
We have come to terms...
BY: LYNN OSBURN
INSPIRED BY The Gift artwork by: Laura Huser
(DISCLAMER: Big O is the property of
This is Paradigm City...
A city of amnesia...
A city without memories...
"Thank you negotiator. I suppose you'll be wanting the other half of your payment now?"
Roger Smith looked over his client. A tall but relatively unimposing man, Mr.Lasher stood holding his eight month old son. The case had been simple enough, a baby gone missing, a note left in the crib. His first thoughts had gone to Beck. It was his style, straight forward, to the point, no complications. But when word got around that Paradigm Cities top negotiator was on the case, Roger hadn't had any problems catching the kidnappers.
Now little Thomas was back in his father's arms. Roger looked out through his dark glasses at Mr.Lasher. "I understand your company isn't doing to well Mr. Lasher."
The reputed billionaire scoffed as he handed his son over to a nanny. "I fail to understand how that's any of your business. Much less why you'd care as long as your fee is paid." Without another word the man snapped his fingers. A butler strode forward carrying a brown leather bag. Lasher pointed to Roger and the butler politely gave the negotiator the bag.
"I believe...Mr. Smith, that you know the way to the door." Lasher spun on his heel and walked quickly from the room.
"I suppose when your that rich manners aren't expensive enough." Roger Smith commented aloud.
"Oh I suppose Mr.Lasher is occupied with his daughter's cotillion this evening." The butler said absently. "I shall show you the way you Mr. Smith?"
"Thanks, but I can do it myself." Roger dismissed him, looking up at the security camera keeping it's lens trained on his figure.
Dorothy stood out on the edge of the balcony, the wind whipping her hair and dress in an identical rhythm. Dark storm clouds clashed together and a light rain began to fall over the rooftop. The android took in the cold, wet feeling against her latex flesh. She looked down at the people bellow, hurrying to get inside before the storm worsened. Anyone looking up might have thought they saw a suicide jumper. The wouldn't have noticed Dorothy's perfectly stable perch.
"Miss Dorothy."
Dorothy turned at the sound of Norman's voice. Not even the old butler would notice the slight fondness in her eyes for him. With Roger gone at odd hours, the android and housekeeper often kept one another good company. "Yes...Norman. What is it?"
Norman took a pale red package out from under his arm, presenting it too her. Dorothy read the words Main's Dresses on the side at looked at the Norman. "Master Roger requests that you accompany him to an event this evening. He bought this for you to wear."
Dorothy kicked one foot back and flipped gracefully off the ledge. Her arms made a smooth mechanical sound as she took the box from Norman. "Thank you...Norman." She said and moved past him into her room.
It had been something of a shock when she had first moved in with the negotiator and he had given her own room. It had registered that a single man, with only another man around as a companion having a room decorated for a lady was odd, but it was considerable better than the broom closet Wayneright had kept her in during construction. The old man had no idea that after he ejected her disk one night, Dorothy had opened her eyes and had her first conscious thought.
As Dorothy slipped off her black dress and into a full slip, a thin ray of light shone across the floor as the door was opened. "I am dressing...Roger Smith." She said in her soft monotone voice and turned her back to the door. Modesty in an android.
"Well it isn't as if you have something I've never seen before." The negotiator said as he walked in holding a small black jewelry box. He stopped, a little embarrassed as he noticed the disk drive switch on the back of her neck. "Well, maybe a few things."
Dorothy opened the box and pulled out the dress. It was an elegant black and white strapless evening dress. Dorothy slipped on the shoes and stood in front of the full length mirror. It was amazing how much taller she was with the heels on.
Roger looked the android up and down. Their eyes met and the negotiator coughed sternly. "I wanted to tell you this isn't just some ball I'm going to. My former client Mr. Lasher is hiding something."
"The kidnapping case." Dorothy said and Roger nodded.
"His daughter is having her cotillion tonight and I thought it might be a good time to make a gentlemanly appearance." Roger Smith smiled cattishly.
"In other words, Roger Smith, you want to poke your nose around without being watched too closely." Dorothy picked up the dress and held it in front of her in the mirror. "Thank you for the gown." She sat down and started to slip it on.
Roger's arms came down on either side of her neck and Dorothy looked back at her protector. A line of gold passed in front of her eyes and a heavy pressure slide between her cleavage. The android looked down at a beautiful sapphire stone surrounded by large pearls. Questioningly, she looked up at Roger.
"It's something Norman found in an old box." HE said dismissively "I thought since you don't have much jewelry and a cotillion is a bit on the fancy side..." Roger straightened his tie and began to walk out the door. "Be quick Dorothy, I don't believe in being fashionably late."
Dorothy looked at herself ten minuets later in the mirror. The gown fit her frame perfectly, hugging the curves without being too tight against them. The black and white sections changed across the waists, giving her a long, lean appearance that flattered her slim figure.
She lifted a hand to her hair and pulled it up in a tight bun, then let it fall back down to it's normal shape. If she was satisfied with her appearance, she gave no indication as she turned to find Roger.
A small tug against her neck and Dorothy spun in time to see the beautiful necklace Roger had given her catch on the mirrors intricate borders and snap, falling to the floor. In a swift movement she caught the glittering chain and pulled it up, taking the other half from the mirror.
As she turned the gem over in her hands, writing inscribed on the back caught her attention. Dorothy held it closer and read.
"To my darling wife." Roger Smith Sr.
Roger Smith slammed his glass of bourbon down on the table. "What is taking the damn girl so long?" he shouted to no one in particular.
"Well sir women do like to make sure their appearance is proper. And you are taking her to a rather classy place." Norman commented lightly as he swept the floor. It didn't matter that the linoleum was spotless.
"Well it isn't as if she needs makeup or anything Norman." Roger sighed and tapped his finger impatiently. "Any flaws R. Dorothy may have, they certainly aren't in her physical appearance."
"Am I to take that as a compliment...Roger Smith?"
Roger and Norman stopped dead at the sight of the android coming down the stairwell. "Oh my!" Norman smiled and bowed. "Miss Dorothy you do look quite lovely."
"Thank you Norman." Dorothy stepped down and did a small twirl on one foot. Roger's comment had been correct. Dorothy's appearance was flawless. She stopped and looked over at Roger. "Roger, if you leave your mouth open, you will catch flies."
Roger straightened up and fixed his tie. "Well we'd better be going."
Dorothy began to walk towards the elevator only to have Roger's out stretched arm stop her. The negotiator smiled and bent it slightly, offering his arm to a lady. The android looked at it for a moment, then took his arm and followed him out the door.
As they arrived at Lasher's mansion, the place was packed with sleek, expensive cars. People were lined up inside, showing their invitations to a rather large duo of men at the door.
Roger grinned. "Is it just me or does everything require a membership now a days?"
"How do you plan to get a ticket Roger?" Dorothy asked, truly curious.
"Huh? Umm." Roger paused. He hadn't thought that far ahead. "Don't worry Dorothy. Just follow my lead." Roger took Dorothy's arm again and lead her up into the line just as if they belonged there.
"Out of our way!" Roger pulled back Dorothy as an elder man with an extremely young looking debutant on his arm pushed through. "Ruffian." The man called back as they headed for the door.
"Oh darling did you see that tacky dress the girl was wearing?" The woman snubbed as they went out of hearing range. "Talk about last years style."
"This from a woman with enough jewelry to support a small business firm." Roger snickered and continued leading Dorothy up to the doors.
A soft jazz rhythm escaped from the opened windows out into the garden as the Roger and Dorothy approached. The two rude upper class people who'd shoved them inside were directly in front of them.
"Why Roger Smith, what are you doing here?" Dastun appeared behind then
"Why Dastun, you clean up pretty good."
The Chief of Military Police gave an unpleasant growl and tugged at the collar of his tuxedo. "Yeah. Lasher's wife was an old friend of mine before she passed away and I herd the daughter looks quite a bit like her mom."
Dorothy ignored the two men as they fell into conversation. Her attention was on the pair who had shoved them aside. Two invitations stuck precariously from the elder man's pocket as he flirted with his lady. Dorothy's eyes went from the man, to the invitations, and back again.
"So Roger Smith, what's your excuse for being here? I don't remember you being one for uptight galas." Dastun questioned his former underling.
"I've decided to throw my hat into the social ring. These ritzy types always seem to be in need of a negotiator who knows how to keep his mouth shut." Roger's sarcastic edge to his voice made Dastun chortle.
"Since when have you fit that description?"
"I'm telling you I had those damn invitations right here!" The rude old man was yelling at the burly guard as he searched his pockets hurriedly.
"How could you be so stupid as to forget them..." The woman started to yell and was interrupted as Dorothy's pale white arm pushed between them both.
"Excuse me." She said politely. "We have our invitations here."
The guard looked at them briefly. "Go right on ahead miss." He stepped to the side and let Roger and Dorothy past.
"Now just a darn minuet...!"
"Sir if you don't have your invitations I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave!"
Roger smiled at his android lady. "R. Dorothy Wayneright you are something else. I didn't know androids could steal?"
"We can perform any act if it does not directly harm a human being. Androids can lie, cheat, steal, or hurt another android. People often forget that though we are not human, we were programmed by humans. Therefore, we have some of their flaws." Dorothy explained all of this as if it were common knowledge. "The only exception was when R.D attacked you. She was not an android, merely an assassin robot. There is a distinct difference."
Roger laughed lightly and led Dorothy into the gala hall. People packed the room, chatting happily with one another, picking at the treats from the buffet line. Roger took a glass of campaign from a passing waiter and sipped it.
"What are we looking for exactly?" Dorothy asked.
"Actually we're not looking, we're listening. Put those sonar ears of yours to good use Dorothy and see if you can find anyone talking about Lasher's financial situation." Dorothy nodded and Roger watched as she disappeared into the crowd.
Roger leaned back against a column and slipped his dark shades on. For once he didn't stick out like a sore thumb in his stark black business suit and tie. Black and white clothing was almost mandatory at these events and he blended in professionally. Jazz music flooded his ears as he tried to locate Lasher in the party. While Dorothy had the benefit of being able to hear a pin drop in the middle of a tornado, Roger had to rely on his own human senses.
"Did you hear about Anastasias Lasher's gown? Her father had it tailor made for her..."
"I wonder how much ole Lasher is shoveling out for this feast..."
"Did you hear about Thomas Lasher..."
Roger trained his hearing in on the last comment. He moved closer to the source, a group of sharply dressed businessmen sipping sherry and enjoying their conversation.
"Most deffinatly. The old codger hired a Roger Smith, some bottom dollar negotiator from the flats down town."
Roger frowned and grit his teeth together. Considering he had never failed a client yet, he felt he charged a fair price for his assistance. There were negotiators who'd never so much as settled a traffic ticket and charged half a million per client.
"Well that Smith fellow did get the boy back unharmed. Pretty good for a bottom dollar."
"Yes but Lasher's scrapping the barrel as it is. Ever since that deal went sour with Paradigm officials his bank accounts been unstable."
"I herd he's damn near broke."
"If he's so broke, how'd he get up enough to pay for a negotiator's services?"
"He dipped into his wife's insurance policy. Don't you know he's got his whole family insured to the hilt?"
Roger Smith dipped his glasses and smiled. "Bingo."
Dorothy turned as her arm was grabbed and she was gently lead towards the door. "Did you discover what you wanted Roger Smith?" she asked.
"Yep. As it turns out Lasher's got his entire family on an insurance policy."
"You suspect him arranging his son's kidnapping in order to get the money?"
"Yes. And if that's true then not only is he guilty of insurance fraud, but attempted murder."
"Then why would he hire a negotiator?" Dorothy thought as they moved through the crowd. "Especially you?"
Roger laughed at the compliment. "I found out these folks don't see me in too positive of a light. They seem to think I'm some third rate fellow out to scam poor unsuspecting rich guys."
If Dorothy had any more comments on that particular subject, she kept them to herself.
As Roger headed to the doorway a bright light suddenly shined down on the two of them. Roger blocked his eyes as Dorothy stared up into the white glow. "What the..."
A slow well cultured voice spoke into a microphone as more of the same lights turned on. "And now we have a gentle rhythm for you cats who want a sweet beat to swing with your lover to." A deep trumpet began the song as couples began to congregate on the dance floor.
Roger looked at Dorothy, a little unsure. She did look...well-designed in the dress he'd given her. "Dorothy...I don't suppose you..."
The android took one hand and place it comfortable on her hip, taking the other and raising it slightly. Her eyes fuzzed momentarily as her systems read the program. "Dance sequence initiated. Style: Soft jazz."
Roger swung her out onto the ballroom floor attempting to take the lead. Unfortunately, his dancing talent ranged from zero to none. Dorothy looked up when he accidentally stepped on her foot. "Your dancing skills...Roger Smith....are as bad as your fashion sense."
Roger humphed. "Well not all of us are preprogrammed for ballroom dancing." Suddenly, Roger's face became passive and he stopped in the middle of the dance floor. "Dancing." He whispered under his breath.
"Roger?" Dorothy took his hand and looked up at him. "Roger?"
A man and woman were dancing together in a beautifully decorated hall. A small, handsome boy with jet black hair and a square jaw watched his parents as they held each other close. His mother wore the most beautiful pure black evening gown as she held his father close. The two smiled at one another as the man fingered a sapphire necklace around his wife's neck.
Roger Smith suddenly lost his balance and stumbled on the dance floor. He felt a strong arm grab hold of him and pull him to his feet. "What happened Dorothy? Did he have too much to drink?"
"Roger is not in the habit of getting drunk...Chief Dastun." Dorothy led the negotiator over to a chair and sat him down.
Roger opened his eyes blinked dreamily. "Dorothy? What...what happened...?' he looked up into her face and suddenly down around her neck. The bright sapphire jewel gleamed at him like a perfect iris. "That necklace."
Dastun looked at the androids jewelry. "What about it? It's a nice piece and all."
"I should take Roger home...Chief Dastun." Dorothy said suddenly and supported Roger against her body. "Thank you for your help."
As Dorothy took Roger out the car, she began helping him into the passenger side. "Exactly what are you doing R.Dorothy?"
"You are ill...Roger Smith. I am taking you home." Dorothy said simply.
"Dorothy, what is rule # 5?" Roger responded.
"Rule # 5: No one may drive your car but you." Dorothy said.
"Exactly."
Dorothy said nothing, only helped Roger back up and into the driver side.
They were silent to one another until passing over the bridge. Suddenly Dorothy spoke up. "What happened on the dance floor? Besides your lack of grace I mean."
Roger frowned at the female android. "I...I don't know. I think I had a memory."
"Did you? What was it?"
Roger looked out the window as he spoke. "I was in the same dance hall we were in. There was a boy watching his parents dance together. The woman was wearing the sapphire necklace I gave you."
Dorothy removed the necklace and held it in front of her. "I suppose that means you haven't read the back of the necklace."
"Huh?"
Later That Night...
Roger Smith looked over the necklace in his hands.
"To my darling wife." Roger Smith Sr.
He had already questioned Norman on where he'd found the necklace. A search of the basement had turned up nothing but a few gold bracelet bands and a pair of onyx cufflinks with the insignia RS on them in gold script. Each item had been easily visible in his memory. But none of them had the same significance as the necklace.
She was wearing this necklace while they danced.
Roger closed his hand over the sapphire and stood up. "Norman, I'm paying a late night visit to the Lasher place."
"Shall I have breakfast prepared for you when you returned Master Roger?"
"Please do Norman."
Roger Smith leapt over the back wall on the Lasher estate. He watched from a dark corner as the blinking red light of the security camera above his swung from right to left, looking for intruders. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a black can of spray paint. "Nighty night boys." He said, covering the lens with black paint.
He turned the corners carefully, and then stared at the wide opened parapet doors. "No guards?" he stepped out slowly. "This whole place is as dead as a graveyard."
No one challenged him as he walked into the library. Not a soul was in sight as he wandered the rooms freely. Not even a maid doing the late night cleaning. "What's going on here?"
He reached into his pocket and turned on his flash light, casting an eerie glow on the room. Portraits of the family hung in the hallways leading to rooms and rooms of locked doors. Some of them were so well made his adjustable pick couldn't even undo them.
He'd found Lasher's office within a few minuets. Roger was shocked to find it filled with boxes left unpacked and papers strewn about. "Now is this any way for a business man to keep his workplace?" Roger sighed as he began to file through the papers.
All he really needed was bank statements, business charts. Something to prove the possibility of insurance fraud and therefore give people a reason to question the kidnapping of Thomas Lasher. Nine times out of ten, public opinion and outcry had just as much to do with a court sentencing as actual innocence or guilt. And a man who would sacrifice his own son for the insurance claim wasn't one people would want to see out on the streets again.
As he searched through the file cabinets, checking through receipts and creditors notices when he ran across a file titled house payments. Roger flipped through them quickly. "So this house was given to the Lasher family after the previous owners died. That explains how he could have such a large place with only a few thousand in the bank." He flipped over the page and looked down at the deceased signature.
Roger's eyes grew wide as his hands trembled. The signature had been written long hand with a smooth, masculine texture to it. Roger felt his heart stop in his chest as he read the name out loud.
"Roger William Smith Sr."
My...father.
Roger backed up awkwardly, tripping against the desk and causing a pile of papers and boxes to go tumbling. A large canvas fell in front of his eyes and Roger stared into the unfamiliar, yet strangely recognizable faces smiling up at him.
The man had a strong, squared face covered with a trimmed beard. His hair was jet black with distinguished streak of gray in it. One might have found a stern frown on such an imposing man's face but instead a warm, welcoming smile showed itself. A woman in her early thirties with long thick black curls and dark violet eyes sat on a chair with a smooth, pleasant smile on her face. Her hands were folded neatly on her lap, her back straight and tall. Around her neck hung the beautiful sapphire necklace, a gift from husband to wife.
But the most significant thing was not the jewel. It was the small boy, dressed in a suit identical to his fathers, sitting on his mothers lap and playing with her necklace.
"My god." Roger Smith felt beads of sweat trickle down his neck. "It...it can't be..."
An earth shattering sound deafened the negotiator, throwing him to one side. Fire cascaded through the walls and over the carpet. Roger stood up, forgetting everything else and reaching for the picture. Another torrent of flames blew him back as the roof above caved in on top of him, pinning him to the ground. The arrogant red orange blaze licked at the edges of the beautifully painted canvas, slowly blackening the fabric.
"No! No don't you dare!" Roger shouted and pulled himself towards the picture. The necklace seemed to glow on the paper as he tried to get closer, the support beams trapping his legs. Roger choked on the smoke and his eyes watered. He felt his head grow dizzy and began losing strength.
Suddenly, the patio windows crashed open and the slim, red headed figure of Dorothy appeared. Her serene face looked briefly at Roger as she ran towards him, bending down with an oxygen mask. "Here, put this on."
Roger slipped the mask on as Dorothy put a single hand under the heavy wooden beams. With a single jerk she lifted them from the floor, tossing them over her head. "Can you stand...Roger Smith?"
"Yes...I...Dorothy the painting!" Roger looked up just in time to see the wonderful images engulfed completely by the flames, the family crumpled in char and ash. Roger's brow deepened as Dorothy helped him to stand and they made their way out of the quickly ruining mansion.
The Next Day...
Roger Smith stood looking over the balcony in his robe while sipping a cup of strong coffee. He could still taste the twinge of propane and smoke in his mouth as he kept a straight face, betraying as little emotion as Dorothy.
As if on cue, the android walked up quietly beside him, holding the black jewelry box. "What happened to Lasher?"
Roger Smith looked over at he. "Well as soon as the mansion was at ground level he appeared at his insurance agency's office, demanding a paycheck. It had been all over the midnight news by the time he got there so they handed the check over without question. It's a problem for the military police now. But my guess is Lasher's found a place in another section of the domes to hide out for a while."
Dorothy said nothing for a moment, and then turned to Roger. "Here." She said, handing the black case to him. "If this truly is your mother's possession, I think you would like to have it back now."
Roger looked down at the box in his hands and opened it, staring at the azure blue sapphire. "Dorothy!" he called as his mechanical friend began to walk away. He stood behind her and removed the sapphire, placing it around her neck as he had done the night of the dance. "Keep it. As a thank you for saving my life last night."
Dorothy touched the gem as delicately as a mother would touch a babies scalp. "Roger Smith."
"Yes Dorothy."
If that man you spoke of in the painting was your father. That would make you the current Roger Smith Sr...correct?"
Roger smiled thoughtfully and nodded.
"Than...by giving me this necklace...does that make me your wife?"
"What....uh! Umm...that's not exactly how it works...I mean." Roger coughed uncomfortably and set his cup down hard. "Good day Dorothy."
The android touched the sapphire again, not showing anyone the brief, tiny curve at the edge of her lips.
We have come to terms...