The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network.

THE BIG O:

ACT 38

KNIGHT AND DATE

Chapter Ten: Shadows of the Knight

In this city, Paradigm City, Memories are treated precious commodities. They're clues to our pasts and guides to our futures. But in a world of amnesia, can we be sure that a Memory is ours when it appears before us?

"Blood," Dorothy repeated. "Do you think it is Angel's blood? Could she be injured?"

"It's a safe bet Angel was here, and that she wasn't alone," Roger murmured. "For long," he added as he shone his flashlight around the darkened chamber. He put his gloved hand against the large screen over the console. "It's still warm. There was power running through this recently. There must be a generator hidden somewhere that powers the whole house," he said as he rose to his feet. "Spread out. Let's see if we can find it. It's probably down here with all this other stuff."

The two separated, Dorothy walking through the rows of display cases and Roger following the wall. At least he thought it was the wall. It turned out the wall of computer banks was standing at the edge of a pit with no safety railing. The only warning was that the dark tiled floor gave away to unworked stone just before the disappearing into the abyss.

"Whoa!" Roger grunted. "That first step's a doozy. Watch your step if you come this way," called over to the light that revealed Dorothy's location before looking back at the sheer drop. Shining his flashlight downwards revealed a gorge that had a metallic floor, visible even through the limestone deposits and pockets of bat guano that the years had concealed it with. Shining his light horizontally revealed a bridge made of worked stone as well as limestone formations and stalagmites. The layers of bat guano and the rustling noise from above prevented Roger from shining his light upwards. If there was an army of bats up there, the last thing he wanted to do was wake them up when he was so close the edge.

In the meantime Dorothy's headlamp shined over the glass display cases. The ones closest to the supercomputer's screen and console featured costumes consisting of one piece spandex outfits and masks. Most of the outfits had some kind of symbol on the chest, either a stylized avian or a bat motif. The masks went from small domino masks to full cowls each with two spikes pointing vertically up from where the ears would be.

The second line of display cases was horizontal and held other exhibits, but they could be examined more closely once the lights were on.

In the meantime Roger was crossing the bridge. It was suspiciously the width of a single lane and he soon found out why. A large, limestone and bat guano incrusted tarp covered a long, low vehicle with square lines, long tailfins and a blunt nose with a massive chrome grill that was all in black, just like Roger's Cadillac. It looked like some kind of car that was being modified into a rocket if the jet exhaust port in the back meant anything. Sadly, the tires were flat; no doubt the victims of deterioration. Even in the cool temperature of this underground chamber couldn't stop the air from slowly escaping through the rubber. It was a shame. The playful part of Roger wanted to take it for a spin.

He shined his light around and discovered a number of other tarps and sheets enveloping various low vehicle shaped objects. How many exotic cars were down here, anyway? There had to be an exit from this chamber to the surface somewhere or it didn't make sense to store a vehicle down here. Were they gadget filled cars like Roger's Cadillac? Or were they just experimental cars designed for speed?

"Roger," Dorothy's quiet voice called from far away. "I think you should see this."

"Just a second, Dorothy!" Roger called back. "I'll be right there!" he assured her as he crossed the bridge a second time to follow her light. "What is it?"

"It's some kind of monster," Dorothy replied as he picked his way through the display cases to join her in an area to right of the staircase they had entered this place from. "It's a robot, but it's so primitive that it doesn't count as machine life."

"Is it active?" Roger asked as he shone his light on it to assist her in illuminating the massive mechanoid. Its surface was green and scaly, like a giant alligator, but it was as dusty as everything else.

"Not currently," she assured him as their lights revealed first one part, and then the other. "Although its presence does make one question the wisdom of restoring the power."

"You got that right," Roger agreed. The towering terror was fearsome indeed. The inactive robot was constructed to resemble a bipedal carnivore with a massive skull balanced by a long, heavy tail. Relative to its large and powerful hind limbs, the lime covered hulk's fore limbs were short and had two clawed digits. The thing was massive, easily forty feet in length and was thirteen feet tall at the hips. He moved his flashlight away where something large and metallic glinted in the darkness. "What's that?" he asked. "Another robot?"

"No it's some kind of giant coppery disk," Dorothy replied as the light from her head lamp joined the light from his flashlight.

"It looks like a giant penny!" Roger gasped in disbelief. "Look, there's the profile of the bearded man on the penny! And look at those letters… 'LIBERTY,' 'IN GOD WE TRUST'. Dorothy, it's a giant penny!"

"How odd."

"What kind of crazy Memories are these?" he asked pointblank.

"I haven't the foggiest," Dorothy agreed lifelessly.

"Well let's see if we can find…huh?" Roger had started to walk away, but now he noticed that he and Dorothy were holding hands. He hadn't recalled taking her hand and he wondered if she recalled accepting his. Blushing, he smiled broadly at the little android.

Dorothy's neck servos could be heard as she looked down at their clasping hands. She looked up at him, her face nearly unreadable, but from Roger's point of view her neutral expression looked almost like a smile.

It was a shame to spoil the moment, but Angel's bloodstained scarf meant that they were no longer on a manhunt that was over three decades old. They were now looking for Angel, who could be injured or worse. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand headed back to the staircase that lead back up to the abandoned mansion. Sitting uncomfortably on the steps, he opened the missing blonde's purse and examined the contents. He pulled out a folded piece of paper, unfolded it, shined his flashlight on it, and let out a low whistle.

Stiffly, but dutifully, the little android turned. "What is it Roger?"

"It's map coordinates," he announced, "as well as a map of the shoreline."

"Where did you find it?" the android girl asked as she walked up to him extinguished the halogen lantern in her skull cavity.

"In Angel's purse," Roger admitted.

"Where do you suppose this leads?"

Roger already knew where it led. "Lighthouse Isle."

Lighthouse Isle is a landmark up the coast from Paradigm City. Like the city, nobody remembers who constructed it, or even what it's for. Some say it was built to guide ocean vessels to safety, others say it was meant to lure careless ships to the reef. The only thing anybody knows is that up until thirteen years ago a light burned at the top of the tower on Lighthouse Isle, before going out forever. Nobody had attempted to visit the island for the last decade or so. Until now…

Later the two of them were in a small rowboat that was heading away from the coast as the dark turbulent sky implied that anyone with any sense would be heading for shore. "Dorothy, are you going to just sit there?" Roger asked as he rowed, attempting to keep his black fedora from blowing off his head. His gloved hands poked out of his dark inverness coat and his long legs shivered in his coal black rain pants.

"As opposed to what Roger? Standing?" the petite pale skinned girl asked calmly from under her rain poncho and bucket hat.

"Not standing, rowing," Roger grunted as the sky chose to open up on them yet again. Are you going to help row this thing?"

"Rowing?" Dorothy asked as she peered at a skinny tower poking up out of the sea. An eerie light coming from the bulbous head could be seen through the obscuring grey fog. "No I hadn't planned on it. Perhaps I will on the way back."

"So you expect me to shoulder the burden."

"No, but I do expect you to do all the rowing."

"And why is that?" he asked as spray from the sea hit his face.

"Coming here was your idea."

"It's something I have to do," Roger announced solemnly.

"Something you choose to do," Dorothy corrected. "I suppose I should row but I'm not helping on a matter of principle," she said in a conversational tone. "The risk seems to outweigh the gain, and quite frankly, I don't see what the gain is to begin with. There's no evidence that either Angel or Roland Knight have ever visited that island."

"Aside of an all too convenient map," Roger grunted as he worked the oars. "Anyway, no one asked you to come along."

"We have been through this. It's far too dangerous for you to go alone Roger," the girl's calm quiet voice was almost lost in the crashing of the waves. "What if the boat flipped over and you couldn't swim to shore?"

"Like you could," he sneered. "You've got so much metal in your android body that you'd sink like a stone!"

"I can swim if I keep working hard at it," she insisted, "but maintaining the necessary pace while carrying you and keeping your head above water may prove challenging. At least I won't freeze to death."

"Speaking of freezing to death, do you see Lighthouse Island?" Roger asked. Because he was rowing he was forced to sit facing aft and had to depend on Dorothy to guide him in. Fortunately the rain was letting up. Thank God for small favors.

"Yes, I see lights ahead," she said. "We're almost there."

"Good. If the map leads us to her hideout, we can find out what she's been doing all this time," Roger grunted as he worked the oars. "We can also determine whether or not she's disappeared and if so, where to start looking."

"And if it's a trap?"

"In that case, I'll finally get to confront whoever has been threatening us," Roger announced through clenched teeth, "and make him pay for what he did to you."

"And what if they strike before you even see them?" By now the little android's voice was the only thing that was dry.

"Who?" Roger grunted. Rowing out to Lighthouse Isle on a day like this felt like continuously getting hit on the back of the head while alternately getting hit in the groin by an angry android with a two by four. He gritted his teeth and put on a brave face but Dorothy was so composed she looked almost bored. Of course she did. If the boat capsized she wasn't going to drown.

"Whoever is going to spring the trap," Dorothy clarified, "if that's what it is."

"I could have been killed the night you were shot," Roger grunted as he worked the oars. "Do you really think whoever is behind this will eliminate me before they get a chance to show me the error of my ways?"

"Roger, turn right."

"Starboard," he corrected as he worked the oar to his left.

"Excuse me?"

"'Right' is called 'starboard' when you're at sea," he explained. "I have no idea why."

"Roger there are lanterns illuminating a concrete walk that comes out of the water and curves up and around until it reaches the lighthouse," she reported. "They aren't gas lit, they look electric, and they're held up by little metal posts that presumably have electric wires within. There is no dock."

"Yeah, before the Event that took our memories the sea level must have been lower," Roger agreed.

"Roger?"

"Yes, Dorothy?"

"If no one has been here in forty years where is the electric power coming from?" she asked. "It's just like the main lamp. Who is replacing the bulbs when they burn out?"

"Don't know," Roger smiled grimly. A loud knock was heard as the rowboat abruptly stopped going forward. "Hey, we just hit something," he commented as he glanced over his shoulder. "We're here."

Just as Dorothy had described, the walkway was a narrow concrete ramp that was obviously meant as a footpath. They exited the boat, dragged it up the path and found themselves on a level square of aquamarine and rust colored bricks standing before the ornate doors to the lighthouse. Inside it was a black as night, so they activated their lights, a handheld flashlight in Roger's case, and a halogen lamp hidden in her skull cavity in Dorothy's. Fumbling, in the dark, they found two sets of stairs, one circling upwards towards the lamp and one curving downward into the earth. Since going up would only lead to the lamp, Roger led the way down without hesitation.

Their lights revealed various bronze art deco plaques set into the outer wall. When they reached the bottom of the stairs they discovered a strange metal sphere in the center of the room. It was large enough to enter. A circular door with a thick glass porthole was hanging open, allowing light from within the sphere to enter the chamber. Inside was a wooden floor, padded benches set flush against the curved metal walls on both sides and a brass lever on a thick pylon that was almost waist height.

"What's this?" Roger snorted as he ducked his head to enter the spherical chamber. "Some kind of elevator?"

Dorothy had no comment but entered behind him and closed the hatch before seating herself on one of the benches. "There is still time to change your mind," she commented enigmatically.

"I've changed my mind before," Roger muttered as he pulled the lever. "Here goes nothing."

The sphere dropped as loud metal impacts could be heard around them. Outside the porthole they could see worked stone bricks ascending as bubbles threatened to obscure the view. Finally they left the tunnel they were in and the view through the porthole revealed a city nearly obscured by the illusionary blue mist of the ocean they were submerged in. It was a city under the sea, just like the one that he and Angel had visited over a year and a half ago when they had jointly purchased a submersible vehicle in order to investigate tales of a 'sea titan' that had frightened the local fishermen. This city was different. The city had much more lights on than the other one and in addition Roger could see clear tubes leading from one building to another!

Had someone added those tubes in order to inhabit those structures after the city had sunk beneath the waves or had the city in fact been built down here in the first place?

"So this is where Roland Knight disappeared to," Roger gasped. "After leaving Paradigm he went and built himself a second city! It's fantastic!"

The bathysphere they were in was moving horizontally now, moving lazily over the undersea city just as the fish and other marine life that were visible. Roger could see neon signs advertising unknown business. Finally the bathysphere entered a clear glass tube with circular rings along its edge. The inscription 'ALL GOOD THINGS FLOW TO THE CITY' could be seen as well as the inscription 'City Transit' with the name of the city obscured by barnacles. The tube led into a vertical brick tube similar to the one under the lighthouse. The bathysphere ascended before revealing a shadowy hallway, the interior of one of the buildings.

Roger moved to open the hatch.

"Is it safe?" Dorothy asked him.

"If it isn't, the water pressure should make it difficult for a mere human like myself to open the door," he assured her. "So if this door sticks, whatever you do don't help me open it."

Dorothy nodded.

The door stuck, but it soon opened to reveal stale but breathable air. He shut it again and turned to Dorothy. "If this is a trap it's possible that whoever set this up thinks that I came here alone," he said to her. "Even if there were cameras back at the lighthouse visibility was so poor that maybe they don't know about you. I'm going to get out and then I want you to wait and then follow me very quietly, got it?"

"Understood," she acknowledged. "I won't even breathe."

Roger rolled his eyes before leaving the spherical craft to explore.

Roger's footsteps echoed as he entered a large chamber. Dim light entered through large windows that revealed the dark and shadow sea. The sound of a switch being thrown accompanied a blinding light being directed at him from above. This could only be the trap he was expecting.

"I've been waiting for you Mister…'Negotiator,'" a familiar voice taunted through loudspeakers.

"I know that voice," Roger muttered as he held his hands over his eyes. With the light shining on him it was apparent that he had left his hat, overcoat and other raingear back at the bathysphere. He was now clearly wearing a black tee shirt, black denim pants, workman's boots and a brown leather jacket. "Show yourself!"

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

Next: Roland Knight