Norman looked at the page Roger handed him. A moment later, he realized what his employer had in mind.. "That's a wonderful idea, Master Roger!"
"So you think Dorothy would be pleased?" Roger asked. "I thought that I might get it filed and surprise her with it."
"I believe she would be very pleased indeed," the butler said without hesitation. "Is it really this straightforward?"
"Yes, I couldn't believe it myself," Roger said. "There has always been a provision for this, and when the Board was certifying the existing Bylaws, they simply updated the language a little. A version of this law has been in place all the way back to the first copies of the Charter."
"Well, I suppose there have always been times when it was necessary," Norman said.
"I'm not sure Dorothy ever needed it in the first place," Roger said.
"Perhaps you're right," Norman said, "although I think it did her good to learn how to manage a real household. Theory is all very well and good, but nothing beats experience."
"I definitely agree," Roger said. "There are plenty of people that will never be able to do as well.. Dorothy was fortunate to have you for a teacher, I don't know anyone who would have taught her better."
"Thank you, sir," Norman's cheeks flushed pink with pleasure at the compliment, strengthening Roger's resolve to be just as quick to praise as he was to complain . "I think that we ought to arrange to go out to dinner the day it's official. I know several of her friends who would be delighted to attend."
"If you give me a list of who you think she might want to have there, I'll be happy to pass on invitations," Roger said. "What do you think about a week from this coming Thursday? That ought to be enough time for me to make all the necessary arrangements on my side of things."
"That sounds perfect," Norman said. "Let me just get some paper."
"How is Jake working out?" Roger asked as Norman fetched pen and notepad from one of the kitchen drawers. Jake had been coming to the mansion to work with Norman for nearly a month now, and Roger was prepared to swear that it had given the old man a new lease on life. He was in better spirits than he had been for years, and really seemed to be enjoying his work again.
"He's going to do wonderfully," Norman said. "He's already got the monthly maintenance schedule memorized, and with your permission, sir, he'd like to make a few minor modifications to Big O that will make him more maneuverable. I've looked over his drawings and discussed it with him, and if it doesn't work correctly or causes unforeseen problems, it wouldn't take more than half a day to put things back the way they were."
"I see no harm in trying it," Roger said. "If it gives even me a quarter of the speed he got out of Big Trey, I'd consider it time well-spent."
"Very good sir," Norman said. "Oh, before I forget to tell you, the program to activate Big Trey's core memories is proceeding nicely, and the first tests were successful."
"And you went with her?" Roger said.
"Just as we'd agreed," Norman said. "Mr. Beck handled things in a very professional manner."
Roger rolled his eyes. "Like a professional low-life, I'm sure," he said.
"No, he was very polite and explained the tests to me as well as to Miss Dorothy," Norman said. "I suspect he learned something from his experiences just before the Event."
"He has all of his memories?" Roger gave the butler a look.
"I'm certain of it," Norman said. "We spoke briefly of Alan Gabriel."
And most people in Paradigm City had no idea Alan Gabriel had even existed. Well, this certainly shed a new light on things. It was too much to hope that Jason Beck had learned his lesson, but it did explain why he hadn't been eager to call attention to himself. "I can never forgive what he did to Dorothy," Roger said.
"I understand, sir," Norman said. "Nevertheless, I for one will be glad when this is taken care of. The idea of Big Trey falling into the wrong hands..." he shuddered as his voice trailed off.
"I know exactly what you mean," Roger said.
Jason tilted his chair back, his hands behind his head. Things were looking good. The tests he'd run on Dorothy today were a success, and if there were no complications for the next part, he'd be finished with the program ahead of schedule, including incorporating the fall-in-love routine. What remained to be determined was the price.
He still hadn't decided what he wanted. Usually money was more than welcome, but right now he had more cash on hand then he usually made in a year's time prior to the Event, even with the occasional payments to Big Ear when he needed information and the regular sums he paid to his informants on the street. His connections had proven unexpectedly valuable. Just knowing who was looking to score had helped him give good advice to Tate on several occasions, and he had the bonuses stuffed into his sock drawer to prove it.
The key was to make sure that his price was something that pissed Crow Boy off. He'd almost laughed himself sick when Dorothy had shown up for the first tests with the butler close behind. What the hell did Smith think Burg was going to be able to do? Nothing against the old man, Jason actually had a certain amount of respect for him as a colleague of sorts, but he'd have no way of knowing what Jason was up to.
He thought of offering Dorothy the opportunity to take it out in trade--that would surely have Mr. Paradigm City Negotiator gritting his teeth and turning purple--but it just wasn't humiliating enough. After her time with Wayneright, he doubted Dorothy would bat an eye at his own undoubtedly plebian tastes, and Crow Boy would rationalize it as something she'd done against her will for the ultimate good of Paradigm City and he'd forget the whole thing as quickly as possible. Besides, once his routine started to work, he could have her whenever he wanted. Why pay for milk when in a short while you'll own the cow?
He half-regretted that he'd agreed to Dorothy's request right away--he might have been able to drive up the price by playing hard to get--but she was perfectly correct when she'd said it needed to be done. If someone got hold of that Megadeus and used it to gain power, Jason might find himself in the same unpleasant situation that he had been in prior to the Event.
He considered some of his other options. Access to the Megadeuses for the purpose of studying them further might be nice, but the gigantic machines had their own ways of enforcing who was allowed inside the command center. He also had absolutely no desire to be Big Trey's full-time pilot, nor his mechanic. The Megadeus was a fine piece of work, and he'd greatly enjoy the chance to take it out for a spin, but he truly wanted nothing more. Besides, as he had learned from working on Big Fau, the Megadeuses were sentient and perfectly capable of communicating with anyone when they wished. If he really needed a look at one of them, he could ask permission directly, just as he had with Fau. A polite inquiry would elicit no worse than a simple 'No', or perhaps a 'Why do you ask?', and if it was deemed reasonable, permission would be granted.
At the moment, he really had no reason to inquire. Art was a lot more interesting, and far more profitable.
Bah! Jason let the front legs of the chair touch ground with a thump. There was no point in worrying about it for the moment. Sooner or later, he'd think of something.
"Hello, Jake," Dastun put aside the report he was finishing. Young Morris looked worried, this was clearly no social call. "What can I do for you?"
"I feel like an idiot coming in here like this," the boy began, "but Norman said I should tell you about something strange that happened yesterday."
"If he thinks that it's important, that's good enough for me," Dastun said reassuringly. "Have a seat."
"I need to show it to you," Morris said, "if you have a few minutes."
Stranger and stranger. "I have a few minutes," Dan put on his hat and let his aide know he was going out for a while, then the pair left his office and headed down the street. At first he thought they were going to the underground garage entrance, but the young man chose a different direction.
It was nearly 10 minutes before Morris finally stopped and pulled something out of his pocket. "Sorry for the walk, but Norman said it was important not to give you this at Headquarters."
It was an empty film canister, and it looked brand-new. "Where did you find it?" Dastun asked.
"In the garage where we keep Big Trey," Morris said. He flushed. "It was stupid. I had a box with bearings in it, and didn't close the lid tight. I didn't realize it until they started dropping all over the floor. I was just looking around to make sure that I'd gotten them all, and I spotted one in the corner near the door. It had rolled right up against the canister."
"You were right to tell me about it," Dastun said. It might, he reminded himself, be perfectly innocent. Even though it wasn't officially allowed without approval, sometimes the men took pictures of the equipment for themselves or their families. Once, he'd caught one of the mechanics taking snapshots of a tank gunner at his controls. A bit of questioning had revealed that it was for the gunner's young daughter, who was having nightmares. Her father had promised her that no monsters would destroy the city while he was on the job, and he wanted her to have a picture of him at the controls of the big gun.
Dastun had confiscated the camera, given both men a verbal reprimand, and had the pictures developed. They were consistent with the story. The mechanic had even taken care to frame the shots so that you couldn't see the inside of the tank, just the gunner at his controls. After talking it over with two of his colleagues, who agreed with his assessment that both men were telling the truth, he'd returned the camera and the pictures, with the admonishment to put in a request for permission through his office next time.
This could well be equally innocent. After all, Big Trey was something new, and a certain amount of curiosity and a desire for some kind of keepsake wasn't all that surprising.
More likely, however, was that someone was on the take. The pay for junior officers and enlisted men was ridiculously low, and it wasn't much better for the higher ranks. Despite Dan's efforts to increase it to reduce the risk of internal corruption, the budget was already stretched too thin. He reminded himself that they were making a difference and that the city was a far more peaceful place that it had been a few years ago and sighed. "Do you recall seeing anything else?" he asked Morris. "Any signs of someone you didn't know lurking around the garage, any strangers asking you odd questions?"
The boy shook his head. "I had a kind of creepy feeling someone was following me home from school the other day, but I ducked into a store and he walked right by," he said. "I haven't seen him since."
That wasn't good news either. While it also might have been perfectly innocent, it was more likely that the tail had realized he'd been seen and acted to minimize suspicion. "I'm sorry to say this, but I think we're going to have to implement some of those security measures we talked about."
"That's what I was afraid of," Morris said, his shoulders slumping.
"Norman said you wanted to see me?" Dorothy came into Roger's study. He was frowning as he sorted through a stack of what appeared to be solicitations from Paradigm charities. Dorothy recognized the letterhead on a couple of them as he shuffled through the pile.
"Yes, thank you," Roger said, pulling up a chair next to his and motioning Dorothy over to it. "You've been spending a lot of time with the Ladies Auxiliary and your church, and I wanted to ask you a few things."
"I'd be glad to help if I can," Dorothy said, sitting down. "What do you need?"
"Every year, the list of charities gets longer," Roger said. "It used to be simple. You donated to the MP Widows and Orphans fund, wrote out a check to an orphanage or a church and maybe sent one to the hospital if they needed something, and that was more than enough. Now, though, there's so many that I have no idea if any of these groups are reliable, or if they're doing any good. Do you recognize any of them?"
"I could write out a list of the good ones," Dorothy began, but Roger held up a hand.
"That would help, but what I'd really like you to do is handle it for me," he said. "Generally, I budget about 10% of my income for charitable gifts. This year, I figure I'll be donating about..." he named a sum that caused Dorothy's eyes to widen. "I don't know why you seem so surprised, I've been doing this for years now, even before we met. It's part of a gentleman's obligation to protect women, children, and the elderly," he said. "But things have changed. I assume you heard that news story about the hospital administrator who was arrested for embezzlement? He'd been skimming from the donations since the Event if not before."
"We talked about it at the last Ladies Auxiliary meeting," Dorothy said. "It's a bad situation for the hospital, people are afraid to donate to them now."
"Well, it got me to thinking that I couldn't just blindly hand out checks," Roger said. "I consulted a lawyer about it, and he suggested I set up a charitable foundation. After we did that, I started looking over these requests and I realized that I just don't have the knowledge or time to run it properly. I plan on hiring someone, but since you've become involved in charity work yourself, I thought it would only be fair to offer you the job. The foundation will pay a yearly salary, and there's a small budget to cover an office and a few staff members if you think you need them. If you aren't interested, that's no problem. I'd still like your recommendation for a trustworthy person who would do a good job with it."
"I don't know if I can do it," she hesitated.
"You don't need to answer right away, take some time to think about it," he said.
"It's not that I don't want to do it," she said. "It's a good idea, and it's very generous of you to offer it to me." She paused, looking down at the floor.
"But..." he prompted.
"I don't want you to make up a job just so I can have one," she said. "I'm also worried about what would happen when I was ready to get my own apartment. I wouldn't want people depending on something that might just disappear due to bad feelings between us."
This was something Roger had anticipated, and it was critical that he be honest. "I won't say that I didn't think right away that making this offer would be a good way of solving several problems," he said. "and it would be a lie to say that it hadn't occurred to me that it could be seen as a way of making you feel further obligated to me." He reached into the desk drawer and pulled out two manila envelopes. He opened the first and handed Dorothy the contents. "I had the lawyer draw up a contract," he said.
Dorothy gave him a sharp look but took the paperwork and settled down to read it. Roger waited patiently as she read it over a second time and then considered the matter. "I can only be terminated for cause," she said. "And 'cause' only touches upon not fulfilling the obligations listed in this agreement?"
"That's right," Roger said. "This is a serious offer. If you want me to write out a check now as an advance so you can take it to get your own apartment first thing tomorrow, it won't affect this job offer. I won't say I'll be happy about it, but you're right, it can't be dependent on our association. I'm offering it to you first because I truly believe you're the best person for the job." He realized he was holding his breath as he waited for her to reply.
"An advance isn't necessary," she said. "I'd planned on staying here until Norman retired, as long as you had no objection."
"Of course not," Roger said. He hated the reminder that Norman too would one day leave the mansion, but the fact that Dorothy was comfortable enough to plan on staying for a while longer gave him a whisper of hope. "Jake is working out well, isn't he?"
"Norman thinks he'll be ready to take over completely by the time he graduates," Dorothy said. "although I don't think he intends to retire for a few years after that.."
"He deserves it," Roger said. "I hope he'll at least reduce his hours."
"I'm just glad he has someone to help him with Big O's maintenance," Dorothy said. "Last winter was hard on him, the cold made it difficult for him to climb around on the scaffolding."
"The arthritis gets a little worse every year," Roger agreed. "I told him that he should take a few days off, but he wouldn't. He said Big O had to be fully battle-ready at all times and the maintenance schedule had to be followed. I'm glad Jake's here to help him now."
"How were those upgrades Jake did?" Dorothy asked. "Did they work as well as you hoped?"
"They were great," Roger said. "Big O could always move pretty fast if there was a need, but it was hard work and I couldn't keep it up for long. Now he's even faster, without half the effort." Roger was in better shape now, too, since he and Jake had begun taking out both Megadeuses a couple of times a week. They had rigged up a second Prairie Dog for transporting Big Trey, and he was currently being stored in the underground garage at the Military Police Headquarters. They'd found another place to practice that was even further out from the city, and so far there had been no disturbances. It was good to be in the command chair again, even if it were only for training exercises.
"What is this clause about bonding?" Dorothy returned to the contract, looking over the papers one more time.
"It's a sort of insurance policy," Roger said. "It's to protect the foundation from being ruined by someone like that hospital administrator. I doubt anyone would have problems with your integrity, but it's pretty standard for a well-run charity. Since the foundation is something that might expand to include other sources of money, or perhaps need additional employees, it's good practice to have it from the beginning. It reassures any potential donors."
Dorothy nodded. "Is this contract legally binding?" she asked. "While I trust you not to go back on your word once you've agreed on terms, does this document have any real weight if one of the signers is an android?"
"That," Roger said, "is the other thing I wanted to talk to you about." He opened the second envelope and took out another set of papers. He handed her the top sheet and waited.
She looked at the page for a long time before she finally read the words out loud, as if hearing them would help her to grasp what they meant. "In recognition of the varying capabilities of Paradigm City's androids, this section has been created to address their legal standing. While it is established practice for most androids to be assigned a legal guardian, if the android is certified to be self-aware and capable of handling his own affairs by his guardian and a minimum of three other non-related adult citizens, that android shall enjoy the same rights, privileges and responsibilities as a human being who has reached his majority. This includes but is not limited to the right to enter into contracts, the right to marry and assume responsibility for any minor children of that marriage, the right to own real property and the right to vote in Paradigm City elections. The android shall be responsible for any acts committed after the date of this recognition, and is subject to any penalties and consequences pursuant to those acts..."
Her voice broke and Roger realized she was crying. "I should have looked it up a long time ago," he said, and put his arms around her. She took the gesture for the comfort he intended it to be and relaxed against his shoulder.
"Instro needs to know about this," she said after she'd had a moment to compose herself.
"I've already dropped off a copy of the law and told him I'd be insulted if he didn't ask me to sign," Roger said, offering Dorothy his handkerchief. "It may take him a little longer--his current guardian will be against the idea because he won't want to lose control over Instro's money, but Instro also has the right to have a hearing, he'll just need a concerned citizen to request it on his behalf. You could file a hearing request yourself once you've signed this," Roger said, handing her the official proclamation. "You'll need to bring it to the Records Bureau so they can get a copy for their files, but this is valid the minute you put your name on it."
The tears started again when she saw the number of signatures attached to the document, but Roger had half-expected it and had put another handkerchief in his pocket just to be safe. "You asked the butcher?" she exclaimed as she read the list of names. "And Frank Manning from the grocery? What did you do, bring it to the market and ask anyone you saw to sign?"
He laughed. "No, although I bet the list would have been even longer if I had," he said. "I guess Norman mentioned it to Mr. Manning when he was doing the shopping, and within two days the phone was ringing off the hook with people who wanted to vouch for you. There are a lot of people who wish you well, Dorothy, despite the gossip."
"I think that I have some thank-you notes to write," she said. Her eyes were still brimming over, but she smiled every time she looked at the paper. She touched the seal with wonderment and looked at the signatures again.
"Norman thought that maybe you'd like to go down to the records office to file the copy and get your id card and then we could all go out to dinner to celebrate," Roger said when she finally slid the papers back into the envelope. "They close at five, so we have an hour."
"I would like that," she said. "Let me just go and change my clothes--where did you want to go?"
"I was thinking of the Poseidon near the waterfront," Roger said. "I'm craving fish and chips again, and they have a nice Surf and Turf. It's a family restaurant, although they do offer cocktails and dancing later in the evening"
"Norman loves Surf and Turf, he'll be pleased," she said. "I won't be long." She hurried upstairs to change.
Dorothy's reaction to the circle of friends awaiting her at the Poseidon was everything Roger could have hoped. Her surprise and delight were infectious, and the number of friends and well-wishers who continued to arrive over the next hour surprised even Norman, who had predicted a good turnout. They filled the restaurant, and the overflow room, to the point that even the ordinary patrons who had merely come to the Poseidon for dinner somehow became part of the celebration. Roger was pleased to see a number of Dorothy's android friends as well.
The dinner hour had ended and the music had started. Every time he looked, it seemed someone else had claimed Dorothy for a turn on the floor. She was wearing a dressy turquoise suit that, with her red hair, made it easy to pick her out from the crowd of dancers. He looked around the room and saw Instro approach a shy young miss who had been hanging back in the shadows near the wall. A few minutes later he saw them dancing, the girl laughing and chattering away as if she had known him forever. "It's nice to see Beth enjoying herself instead of hiding," Angel had found her way over to him through the crush of people, and had also spotted Instro.
"She's Murphy's daughter, isn't she?" Roger had thought the girl looked familiar but hadn't been able to place her until he heard the name.
"Yes, she and her mother are part of the Ladies Auxiliary," Angel said. "She admires Instro's work, but she's always been too shy to talk to him."
"Everyone looks like they're having a good time," he said.
"I hate to spoil it by bringing up business, but there's a ...situation with Jake that I want to talk to you about," she said.
Roger thought longingly of the dance he'd been hoping to claim from Dorothy, but he knew Angel wouldn't have sought him out if it wasn't urgent. "What's happening?" he asked, steering her towards a relatively quiet corner.
Angel quickly outlined what Morris had told Dan. "We're afraid he may be in real danger, and we want to take you up on your offer to let him stay at the mansion."
"Of course," Roger said. "What about his family?" The boy frequently mentioned his mother and younger sister.
"We've managed to find them an apartment where we can keep a better eye on them," Angel said, "but it won't be vacant for another three weeks. We think they'll be safe for a short while without Jake there, but we were hoping you'd be willing to stop by to check on them a few times a week."
"That's no problem," Roger said. "Norman or I will have to drive him to and from school, it's too far for him to walk, and I'm sure he'll want to visit them."
"No doubt, and that's a good reason to have one of you dropping by," Angel said. "I'd feel a lot safer if you'd bring him home with you after the party."
"Norman said something about calling it a night soon," Roger said.
"Yes, Dan spoke to him already and we'll be glad to drop them off. We just wanted to clear everything with you," Angel said.
"You don't have to do that," Roger said. "Stay and enjoy the party. I can bring them home and come back."
"I'm almost falling asleep myself," Angel said, trying to smother a yawn. "I'm at that annoying stage where I'd sleep for eighteen hours a day if I could get away with it."
"You should take a nap when Jimmy does," Mrs. Hathaway's voice startled both of them. "I've come to thank you for your invitation," she extended her hand to Roger. "This is the first time tonight you've stood still long enough for me to catch up with you!"
"I'm glad you joined us," Roger shook her hand. "I'm sure Dorothy and Norman feel the same. The turnout was even better than we had expected."
"She's a remarkable young lady," Mrs. Hathaway's words held no trace of sarcasm, in contrast to her next statement. "I confess I'd never expected you to release such valuable... property."
Angel winced visibly and Roger clamped down hard on a surge of anger. "I'm afraid I don't understand," he said, deliberately keeping his expression bland.
"No?" Mrs. Hathaway raised an eyebrow. "Well, perhaps something one has grown tired of has less value."
"Mrs. Hathaway!" Angel took a step forward, the light of battle in her eyes.
Roger took a firm grip on his temper. Dorothy had spoken to him about the elderly lady's penchant for saying things that everyone thought but wouldn't dare say aloud. "She doesn't suffer fools gladly," Dorothy had told him, "and there's always a reason for her saying the things she does. I've been watching her, Roger. People give away a lot with their reactions, and she knows just how to get to the truth of the matter. It's probably why she's so influential, despite the fact that she infuriates everyone with the horrid things she says."
He put his hand on Angel's arm. "I believe that Mrs. Hathaway intends me to take a different meaning entirely than the first consideration of her words might imply," he said, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the cavalry coming in the form of his butler, Dastun, and the boy. "Ah! There's Dan now." Roger introduced Jake to Mrs. Hathaway, and after exchanging a few pleasantries, they said their goodbyes and headed towards the exit. He was grateful for the timely interruption, although the set of Angel's shoulders told him she was still furious and that undoubtedly someone would be getting an earful tomorrow. "Would you like to sit down? Could I get you something to drink?" he asked the elderly woman, leaning on the charm of his Negotiator persona.
"A glass of wine would be lovely," Mrs. Hathaway said, accepting the chair. Roger excused himself and found a waiter, who promised to return shortly with the wine. He returned to the table, aware that she was watching him closely, but he simply seated himself., allowing a comfortable silence to descend until the waiter returned. "You were saying?" he said after she had taken a few sips from her glass.
"What meaning do you find upon further consideration?" she asked.
Straight to the point, then. "I believe it is most likely that you intended to inform me of the probable reaction to Dorothy's new status," he said.
"Intelligent as well as good-looking," Mrs. Hathaway approved. "I begin to see why she speaks so highly of you."
Roger shrugged. "Intelligent in some matters, perhaps, but in others... I'm not so sure," he said.
"And now that she's legally her own woman?" Mrs. Hathaway asked. "What are your intentions, Mr. Smith?"
He couldn't hide the quick flare of annoyance. "My intentions are entirely honorable," he snapped. "and you'll have to ask Dorothy if you want to know about her intentions. Her choices are her own, they always were. From what she's said, I believe she plans to remain at the mansion at least until Norman retires, and I'm glad of it--they're very close, and both he and I would miss her terribly. I've offered her a job as well, although I'm not sure she's decided on whether to accept it."
"I see," she said. Roger got the impression that this wasn't what she had expected to hear. "What kind of a job?" Roger sketched out the details, and was surprised when the woman nodded agreement. "An excellent idea from all perspectives," she said. "She'll do very well at it, and of course she would need to be emancipated in order to be bonded. Have you considered pooling the foundation's resources with other donors? I would think there was no shortage of people would be glad to join an endeavor that keeps an eye on where the money is going and how it's been spent."
"If not immediately, then certainly in the future," Roger said. "The timing will also be Dorothy's choice, assuming of course that she takes the job."
"A fine payoff to assuage a guilty conscience." Mrs. Hathaway actually winked at him.
"I prefer to think of it as showing proper appreciation for services rendered," he shot back.
It startled a laugh out of her. "That's more like it!" she said. She swirled the wine in her glass and took a thoughtful sip. "When the talk about Dorothy didn't die down immediately, despite the complete lack of any impropriety in her conduct, I thought it odd that people had become so fixated upon the subject. After considering the matter at length, it occurred to me that when no one remembers who they were, any scrap of information that might help one know whom to trust and whom to avoid is seized immediately and gnawed on until it's as dry and tasteless as an old bone."
Roger had never thought of it that way. "That makes sense," he said. Angel had done her best, making sure that people at least retained memories of basic technical operations, and she had been careful to restore as many books and documents as she could, but the first year after the Event had been chaotic and people were still frightened and deeply suspicious of anyone outside their immediate circle.
"I expect that the falsity of the rumors will become blindingly obvious to anyone with eyes, given a bit more time." Mrs. Hathaway rose from the table, signaling the end of the conversation. "I'm glad we had this chance to speak, Mr. Smith." Roger got to his feet and offered his arm, but she waved it away. "I can see myself to the door. You should try to claim a spot on your young lady's dance card so she doesn't feel neglected."
The woman didn't miss a thing, Roger realized. "I'll do that," he said, ignoring the reference to 'his' young lady, and took her hand again. "Thank you again for joining us." He insisted on escorting her to the door, saw her safely into a cab, and then went in search of Dorothy.
He was surprised to find her alone, staring out at the dark ocean. "Are you tired of dancing?" he asked.
"It's just a bit... overwhelming," she said. "I enjoy talking to people, but it's hard to deal with so many of them at once."
"I wouldn't be half so effective in my work if I didn't have an escape from it," Roger said. "That's the real reason I prefer not to do much socializing at home. If I want bright lights and noise, it's easy enough to go somewhere."
"I understand that much better now," Dorothy said. "I've had a wonderful evening, but I'm looking forward to it ending, too."
"It's getting late and people are starting to head out already," he said. "We could leave now if you wanted, although I came looking for you because I was hoping to dance with you at least once."
"I would enjoy that," she said.
"Shall we, then?" He offered her his arm, and a minute later they had joined the others on the floor.
The one dance turned into three, but he had no objections. Other than that comforting hug he'd given her earlier, it was the first time she'd been in his arms for weeks. He was glad when the music changed to something slower and gave him an excuse to pull her close. He didn't say anything at all for most of the dance; he was too busy enjoying it. "I'm so glad Norman thought of doing this," he finally broke the silence.
"I am too," she said. "I've never had a surprise party before."
"Well, then, we'll have to arrange another," he said, regretfully releasing her as the song ended, "as long as it isn't for me. I hate surprise parties."
"Maybe we can do something nice for Norman's birthday," she said.
"I think he'd enjoy a small party at home," Roger said, "although I have no idea how we'd manage to surprise him!"
They drifted off the dance floor still discussing it. "It would only require proper planning," Dorothy said. "Arrange for a catering company to deliver all the food and decorations. About an hour before the guests are due to arrive, you go out on an errand that's at least a twenty-minute drive away. Ten minutes after you get there, you call him and tell him the Griffon's broken down so that he'll leave the mansion to pick you up. You could either sabotage something minor or just have the hood open and a bit of grease on your hands and tell him that you found a loose wire. He will of course want to spend ten or fifteen minutes checking it over, and then you tell him you missed the person you intended to meet and you're going to go home--you know he will want to follow just in case of any more problems. While he's gone, the catering company and the guests arrive, we all work together to get everything set up, and by the time you get back and wash up, the party is ready to go."
"You've given it a lot of thought, I see," Roger teased, but she was right, it would work.. He stopped himself from putting an arm around her shoulders, although it was something he normally would have done without thinking twice about it He was trying to walk a fine line between warmth and formality, and even though he hated the constraint, he had to admit that the more mannerly approach had gone a long way in easing any awkwardness and discomfort between them. The pair made the rounds to say their goodbyes, and he brought the car around to the entrance while she made sure she hadn't missed anyone.
He would have loved to suggest a stop at the beach, but he resisted the impulse, turning the car towards home. They were careful to be quiet when they came in, and Roger was glad to see that Norman hadn't waited up for them. They stopped in the hallway in front of the grand staircase. "I will always remember this night," she said, and surprised him by putting her arms around him.
He returned the embrace, regretting his wasted opportunities. "I hope that you'll have many nights--and days!--of happy times to remember," he said.
"I think I will," she said.
He looked into her eyes, unwilling to let the moment end. "I miss this," he said.
He was utterly astonished when she drew him down into a kiss that heated his blood and made his heart pound and was over entirely too soon. "So do I," she said. "Good night, Roger." She turned and went up the stairs.
"Good night," he managed to choke out the words before she'd disappeared into the shadows.
Beck tapped his foot impatiently. Dorothy was supposed to meet him here in order to run a few more tests on Big Trey in preparation for the final program, and she was late. He tossed his cigarette butt to the ground and lit another, huddling close to the building to avoid the chilly rain that was falling. He could have gone inside, but he didn't care to endure the suspicious glances he'd undoubtedly get from the people inside. Today was not going well. He had a rather interesting lead on a painting, but something about the seller bothered him, and he wasn't having any luck getting any information about him.
On the surface, it looked like a sweet deal, but something wasn't quite right, and he was going to have to decide tonight whether or not to buy the piece--the seller was getting antsy, and was talking about another offer. He wished Dorothy would hurry up--if they could finish up quickly enough, the gallery would still be open and he could talk to Old Man Tate about it.
It was nearly a half hour more before he finally spotted her hurrying down the street, this time accompanied by young Morris. Well, that made sense, since Big Trey was the boy's find, although he'd be even less effective than the butler at guarding the toothsome Miss Wayneright. Jason whistled under his breath. The girl had astonishingly good taste, no doubt about it. When he'd first hatched up this little plan of his, he'd taken a great deal of pleasure in thinking about the kind of clothes he wanted her to wear, but now that she was wearing something other than that godawful black velvet excuse for a dress, she looked even better than she had in the exotic outfits she'd worn in his imagination. Today's delectation was a tailored suit in a rather startling shade of lavender. He'd always heard redheads shouldn't wear lavender, but she managed to pull it off. On a gray, cold and rainy day like this, it was a welcome bright spot.
"Wipe your chin, you're drooling," her sour comment interrupted his thoughts.
"Sorry, that color got me to thinking of cotton candy," he said, leering at her cheerfully. "You look absolutely edible."
Morris looked shocked, but Dorothy shrugged it off. "You'd break your teeth," she said.
"I wasn't planning to bite," he smirked.
"That's enough repartee," she snapped. "Let's get going, I have a lot to do this afternoon, and we're late as it is."
"If we're lucky, this shouldn't take long," he said, motioning her ahead with an extravagant gesture. "Youth before beauty."
To his surprise, the corners of her mouth quirked upward. "Jake should lead the way, then, and we can have a beauty contest to decide who goes next" she said. "I really am sorry we were late, and I didn't mean to be snappish with you--it's just been a long day."
"Don't worry about it," Jason said, opening the door and allowing the pair to precede him. "I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you weren't dripping sarcasm all over me." He winked at her to show he was teasing and followed them inside.
Roger stood watching the drops of rain land and slide down the solarium door. While he had long ago accepted that daily life couldn't possibly be as perfect and magical as the night of Dorothy's emancipation party, the contrast between that evening and today was downright... depressing. Even here in his usually inviolable sanctum, he could hear the loud wailing of Jake's little sister from downstairs.
He liked children, he truly did. He fully understood that even the most well-behaved children could be absolute little monsters at times. He still vividly remembered pacing back and forth for more than an hour with a colicky infant against his shoulder to give an exhausted and frantic Dan a chance to drink the coffee Norman had made him. A few months after Jimmy was born, Dan had taken him out for a walk to give Angel a chance to get a nap after a couple of wakeful nights, and it had unexpectedly begun pouring rain. As chance had it, Roger had been on his way home and spotted them, and had brought them back to the mansion, with Jimmy wailing at the top of his lungs for the entire trip.
These things were an expected part of dealing with young children. After some vigorous back-patting, Jimmy had emitted some very loud belches, spit up on the rag Norman had fortunately insisted on putting over Roger's shoulder, and then he had promptly fallen asleep. While Roger didn't appreciate the noise, he could sympathize with the discomfort the child must have been experiencing. The rag had taken care of most of the mess, and the prompt application of a damp sponge to his jacket sleeve had been sufficient for the rest.
Jake's sister, on the other hand... she was clearly used to getting her own way, and had learned to enforce her wishes by throwing a tantrum every time she was denied. Jake was usually able to calm her down--he was wonderfully patient with her--but Roger now understood why the boy had thrown himself so wholeheartedly into his new job with Norman. It was obvious he loved his sister dearly, but it was equally obvious that he missed the peace and quiet now that his family was also staying at the mansion.
Still, there really hadn't been much choice about it. A few days after the party, he had brought the boy over to their apartment building to find Mrs. Morris frantically trying figure out what was wrong with the phone so she could call the police. She'd seen someone on the fire escape trying to pry open the window. Their timely arrival had frightened the intruder away, but further investigation revealed the phone line had been cut, and the couple of items Roger found on the fire escape while Jake was trying to calm his hysterical mother led him to believe that the intent had been kidnapping.
There was nothing to be done but to get the family out of there. Roger had Jake help them pack some clothes and brought them to the mansion for the interim.
Mrs. Morris seemed a nice-enough lady, but she had a tendency to flutter, and the slightest difficulty seemed to leave her wringing her hands and hysterical. Norman had been running himself ragged for the last three weeks trying to take care of the many things Mrs. Morris couldn't seem to handle, and even Jake's much-admired patience was showing signs of fraying around the edges. Even worse was that the apartment wasn't going to be ready for another two to four weeks--the current tenant had not been able to move out because his new apartment was still being renovated.
Roger didn't know if he could handle another two to four weeks of Missy's tantrums.
He sighed and left the window, debating whether or not he should intervene. Dorothy and Jake wouldn't be back for a few hours yet, and he had sent Norman out on an errand with strict instructions that his butler was not to return home until he'd also gotten a nice lunch and had a beer or two at his favorite pub and visited with some of his cronies--the poor man needed the peace and quiet more than any of them because he'd been dealing with it the most. The noise level grew louder and Roger sighed again. If he wanted to get anything done this afternoon, he supposed he'd have to at least make an appearance. Missy still seemed to be a little in awe of him, and sometimes a stern word from him would get her to settle down. Sometimes.
"I was trying to look at the big machine!" her voice carried clearly up to the first landing. "Why can't I look at it?"
Roger moved more swiftly. It was bad enough that the little imp had pulled all the books that she could reach off the shelves earlier when she was caught poking around Roger's office. Dorothy had refused to leave until the mess was cleaned up, and it was at that point that Roger had invented Norman's errand. Mrs. Morris' reply was inaudible, undoubtedly the woman was wringing her hands again.
He was headed towards the hangar entrance when he heard a very familiar rumble, but in a sharp tone he didn't think he'd ever heard before. "The big machine doesn't want to look at little girls who won't mind their mother." Roger thought of beating a hasty retreat the way he had come, but if the child was wreaking enough havoc to have gotten Big O's attention... For a mercy, the noise had stopped. Sheer surprise, no doubt. He was just in time to catch Mrs. Morris as she fainted dead away in reaction to the voice in her mind. He set her gently down on the floor and chafed her wrists as Missy looked around curiously. "Who talked to me?" she demanded.
"I did," the Megadeus answered immediately.
"Why can't I look at you?" Missy asked.
"Because you aren't supposed to be in that room by yourself." Big O said. "There are things in there that aren't safe for a little girl to play with."
"I won't be alone if Mommy brings me," she said defiantly.
"It's not up to your Mommy." Big O figuratively waved aside the frantic mental apology Roger made him. "The only person who can give you permission is me."
"Roger can give me permission," she said. "He owns everything in this house, including you!"
"I'm afraid not," Roger said, temporarily giving up on his efforts to revive Mrs. Morris. He made sure she was securely braced in a sitting position and turned to her daughter. "Big O is my guest and my friend, and if he doesn't want to see you, then we have to abide by his wishes."
Missy chewed on the end of her thumb as she thought it over. "Can I come and look at you if I promise to be good?"
"You promised Jake you would be good," that note of sternness was back in Big O's tone. "He's going to be very disappointed to find out that you broke your word."
The child started to cry again, but this time it seemed she was genuinely distressed. "I didn't mean to!" she whimpered.
Roger took a step towards her in an automatic gesture to soothe her, but stopped at Big O's private request to wait. "If you can go a whole day without having a tantrum, perhaps Dorothy or Roger can bring you in to visit me tomorrow," the Megadeus said.
"Do you promise?" she asked immediately.
"How can you be sure I won't break my promise like you broke your promise to Jake?" Roger carefully kept his face neutral, holding back a chuckle. In all honesty, even though she'd annoyed the hell out of all of them, Missy really wasn't a bad child. In fact, he was willing to bet that half her problem was that she was very, very bright and bored to tears, which was always a bad combination in a child not yet old enough to have good judgment. Big O's words were exactly what were needed to give that active young mind something to engage it.. "You think about that, and if you don't have any tantrums, we can talk more about it tomorrow."
"What if I forget?" she said, a little worried frown on her face.
"Then you'll have to wait until the day after tomorrow," the Megadeus said. "And if not the day after tomorrow, the day after that, until you go a whole day without having a tantrum."
The child nodded. As the sense of the Megadeus' presence receded to the background, Roger turned his attention back to Mrs. Morris, who was showing signs of recovery. "Mommy, the big machine says I can come and visit him if I'm good," she told her mother excitedly.
"If you don't have any tantrums," Roger reminded her, helping her mother up. "I don't know about you two, but I'm getting hungry. Why don't we see about getting some lunch?" Hopefully the distraction would prevent another episode of hysterics.
Luck was not with them today. Jason made a disgusted noise as the latest test run produced yet another error. "This doesn't make sense," he growled. "This is a standard diagnostic, it shouldn't be giving us trouble!"
"I wonder if it went into lockdown mode due to a sabotage attempt," Dorothy said calmly, looking something like a Medusa with the multiple strands of wires plugged in through her CD port.
Jason wished he'd known that she could voluntarily eject the entire drive as well as open it--it would have saved him a hell of a lot of work when Big Venus had entered his mind to direct Dorothy's repair during the Event. He still didn't remember it clearly, it was as though he'd been in some kind of trance, but compared to the Memories most people had lost, well, he wasn't going to complain about it. "If that's the case, we don't know the codes and we'll have to start with a full wipe," Jason said. "There's one more thing I can try, but I'll need some time to get it ready. Unless you think a full wipe is advisable?"
Dorothy had an inward look, as if she were listening to someone, but the expression passed quickly. "Let's leave that as a last resort," she said. One by one, she removed the wires, coiled them up and carefully stowed them away in the built-in drawer, then returned the cd drive to its slot and ran a brush through her hair. "Thank you, Jason. I know it's been an annoying session." She helped him put away his tools and left without further conversation, which was fine by him--if he were lucky, he could still catch up with Tate. He left the garage right behind Dorothy and Morris, and hurried off in the opposite direction.
It was obvious to her that Jake had something to say, and she had a pretty good idea she knew what it was, but she waited until they were out of earshot of the Military Police complex before she brought it up. "I suppose you're wondering why I don't get upset with him when he talks to me the way he does," Dorothy said.
"It wasn't right," Morris said earnestly.
"I've known Jason Beck for a long time," she said. "I suspect that he did that hoping that it would upset you enough to say something to Roger."
"Why would he do that?" the boy looked confused, and Dorothy didn't blame him. It had taken her quite a while to figure it out herself.
"Because nothing would amuse him more than to think that Roger was annoyed," she said. "Surely you've noticed by now that Roger has nothing good to say about him."
"He didn't seem that awful," Morris admitted. "Not as bad as Mr. Smith made him out to be, anyway."
"He made some poor decisions," Dorothy said. "There was a time when he caused some real problems for us. However, when it came down to the final decision, he chose to be one of the good guys, and I don't think Roger can ever forgive him that."
"But you do?" Morris frowned.
"I do," Dorothy said. "He was very... kind to me once, and at great personal risk. He was sorry for his mistake, and to be fair, he wasn't entirely responsible for his own actions. No, the real problem is that they're too much alike."
"He's nothing like Mr. Smith!" the boy protested.
"And both of them would undoubtedly say the same, but they are," Dorothy said. "The real difference between Roger Smith and Jason Beck is that Roger learned to leash his impulses whereas Jason is only now just learning how."
"I don't know..." Jake said.
"I think if you watch them for a while, you'll understand what I mean," she said. "Or ask Norman what he thinks. I'd just as soon you not mention it to Roger at all."
"What do you think he would do?" Morris looked at her curiously.
Dorothy stopped abruptly and clenched her fists. "Contemptible bastard!" she hissed in a very good imitation of Roger at his most outraged.
Morris couldn't help but laugh. "I understand now." He did an equally good imitation of his mother. "Let sleeping dogs lie, there's no need to borrow trouble!"
"Exactly," Dorothy said. "Speaking of which, Roger must be at his wits' end without Norman there. We'd better hurry."
"You're probably right," Jake said, and began walking more quickly.
To both Dorothy and Jake's surprise, they returned to a very peaceful household. Missy was very happily helping Roger work on an hourglass, and Mrs. Morris was settled down with a hot cup of tea and a magazine. Dorothy got dinner started, and a much more relaxed Norman arrived home in time to help her serve it.
It wasn't until Missy's bedtime that Dorothy had an inkling of what had caused the sudden change. The little girl was obviously tired, but started to kick up a fuss when her mother suggested it was time for bed. She was taking a deep breath in preparation for going into full howl when they all heard what could only be described as a polite throat-clearing--if, of course, a Megadeus had a throat that could be cleared. Missy immediately stopped arguing. Roger was quick to praise her. "We all get out of sorts when we're tired," he confided. "It's much easier to be good when you're well rested."
"C'mon, Missy, I'll read you a story," Jake said, seizing the opportunity, and she obediently followed her brother to their rooms.
"You must have had an interesting afternoon," Dorothy said to Roger later that evening after Mrs. Morris and Jake had also retired for the night.
"I think he was tired of the noise," Roger said, chuckling a little. "I know I was. How did the testing go?"
"Poorly," Dorothy said. "I need to go and speak to him, and I'd like you to come with me to save me having to explain twice."
"Of course," Roger said.
It didn't take long for Dorothy to outline the situation, having already transmitted the bare bones earlier, and a half a moment later, Big O offered another possible, if time-consuming, solution. In a quick burst of data, Dorothy now had a list of all the known override codes stored in her memory, along with the Megadeus' best guess as to which one had most likely been used on Big Trey. With this settled, the conversation turned to the Morrises.
"It was nice of you to give Missy that little reminder," Roger said. "I've never seen her settle down so fast!"
"She won't need to be reminded for long," Big O said with a tone of satisfaction. "I'm very pleased with her. She's an excellent candidate, assuming of course that she can overcome this unfortunate habit of screaming until she gets her way."
"Candidate?" Roger felt a sudden lurching in his stomach. Was Big O planning on replacing him?
"Not for a good long time, but surely the day will come when you'll be ready to retire," his companion's amused rumble got Roger's immediate attention
"I hadn't thought about that," he admitted, feeling a little embarrassed at his own reaction.
"By the time she's old enough, you'll be almost fifty." Big O reminded him. "I wouldn't wish for a beloved pilot to be lost before his time because his body had grown older and his reflexes failed him. There are several potential candidates, as there must be, but I have a... hunch, if you will, that she'll be the one to succeed. She's very strong-willed, yet she has a kind heart, although she hides it right now, and that's necessary for those who fight with us."
"Like..." Dorothy stopped the words before they came out of her mouth. "Like Jason Beck" had been what she had been about to say. In a flash of insight, she had realized that the similarities she had observed in Roger's and Jason's personalities existed for a reason.
"Indeed," Big O's thought was directed at her alone. "Should Roger Smith be unable to defend the city through illness or injury or untimely death, Jason Beck will answer my call, and," there was another flash of amusement, "he'll undoubtedly be quite annoyed about it."
"Like..." Roger prompted, unaware of what had passed between his companions.
"Like her brother," Dorothy quickly covered her lapse. "I have no doubt that Big Trey will accept him once he's restored."
"I'm sure you're right," Roger said. They left the Megadeus to his silent vigil and went to the kitchen. Roger made himself a sandwich while Dorothy made some tea.
"I talked to Jake about his mother a little while we were walking home," Dorothy told him when they sat down at the kitchen table. "From what he told me, his mother wasn't always like this. The family was able to deal with the Event fairly well, but three years ago, Mr. Morris didn't come home from work. At first they thought there had been an accident, but there was no call or knock at the door to give them the bad news, and no one fitting his description had been brought to the hospital. There was the usual talk that he'd abandoned the family, but two different private detectives could find no trace of the man. Jake said that his mother seemed to be handling things okay at first, but as time went on with no news at all, his mother seemed to become increasingly... unbalanced, although of course he didn't put it quite that way."
"She probably could have handled the Event itself, or handled her husband's disappearance, but with both, it was too much for her," Roger said, debating on whether he needed another sandwich. His appetite had increased quite a bit since he was piloting Big O regularly, but he didn't want to overdo it.
"Yes," Dorothy said. "Jake said that there was a time when she'd cry every time he left the house, but that it had improved after a year or so. She won't let Missy out of her sight unless she's with her brother, though, even now."
"Missy is almost old enough to start school, isn't she?" Roger asked.
"Next fall," Dorothy said. "Jake said that he thought his mother would be fine with that, at least he did until just recently."
"Who could blame her after what happened?" He gave up the battle with his appetite when his stomach growled loudly.
"Put some extra mayonnaise on that, you're losing weight and you don't need to," she said as he got up to make another sandwich.
"It seemed to me that my pants were shrinking not all that long ago," he observed, although he did take her advice.
"Perhaps they were before we started going out dancing, but that was more than a year ago," she said. "If you lose any more weight you're going to have to have your suits altered."
She was right about that, too, now that he was paying attention. He was tempted to tease her about noticing his physique, but he decided against it. "I miss going dancing," he said, sitting down at the table with the second sandwich.
"It might be nice to go out this weekend," she said. "I think it would reduce some of the stress if we were to get out of the house for a while."
"And here I thought you liked to dance," he said.
"I do," she said. "There's no reason an action can't serve multiple purposes, although it will do nothing for my weight."
Roger grinned at her. "At least you're graceful enough not to step on my toes," he said, finishing the sandwich and leaning back contentedly. "Oh, I meant to ask you something. Have you decided on whether you'll want an office for the foundation yet?" Dorothy had accepted his job offer the morning after the party, and was somehow managing to get things organized despite the other demands on her time.
"Not for the moment," Dorothy said. "I'd rather put that money aside for now--if it's invested carefully, by the time we actually need our own space, the income alone should pay for a good portion of the expenses."
Roger nodded and then yawned. Now that he was comfortably full and finally sitting still, he realized how tired he was. "I guess I should go to bed," he said, getting up from the table. "I have another early appointment tomorrow."
"I'll wipe down the table and counter," she said when she saw him turn to the sink. "Get some sleep."
"Don't forget you need to rest too," he said, but she had already taken the dishrag and was wiping the counter. "Just let me know where you want to go," he said. "That way I can make reservations if they're needed."
"I will," she said. "Goodnight, Roger."
"Good night," he said, and headed for his room. As he got into his pajamas, he wondered how many other pilots had been lucky enough to grow old enough to need to retire. He doubted there were many. While it was hard to picture himself growing old and gray, barring accident or some new threat to the city, one day it would happen. Perhaps this new stability was the reason that Big O had been so much more communicative lately--the situation was just as novel to him as it was to everyone else, and he was still finding his way. It was almost as hard to imagine Big O not being sure of himself as it was to imagine his own face thirty or forty years from now, but that comment about not wanting to lose a beloved pilot before his time had held an undertone of deep sadness that Roger had seldom witnessed in his friend. Big O's mind seemed so vast that sometimes Roger felt like he was in direct communication with a God. Like the biblical deity, was Big O aware of every sparrow's fall? Did he mourn the loss? Was he communicating more because he was allowing himself to hope that this time there would be a future?
He was still thinking about it when sleep overtook him.