The end of January and the beginning of February brought cold, snow and ice. As a result, everyone in the household was cooped up inside. Making the best of it, Ray had taken to knitting in front of the artificial fireplace, and Norman had made a minty hot chocolate for everyone. Roger drank his favorite liquors in his comfy chair, and when not in the lounge, he used the TV he had in his room. Ray had known he had a TV in his room, but until this cold snap could not recall him using it for more than an update on the day's weather forecast. When the four weren't together it was just the two teens left to their own devices, but today would be different.
"It will have been a year tomorrow."
"What?" Ray looked up from her work and at Dorothy, sitting on the floor close by playing with Robin. Racking her brain for the answer, and not finding anything of note, it slowly dawned on her. "Oh, yeah I'll have been here almost a whole year won't I?"
"That too, but it is not what I meant." Dorothy rarely showed emotion, choosing to bottle it up instead, but she seemed depressed to Ray. And then another realization hit her.
"Oh… you mean your father's…?" She didn't finish the question, thinking it best to not ask at all a little too late.
"Yes." After that the only noise heard for a solid minute was Robin's purring, trying to cheer up his person.
"Do you want to go visit his grave tomorrow?"
"No. I think I want to be alone."
Ray said nothing in response to that, instead letting Dorothy have her peace and quiet. The next day Dorothy holed up in her room, and when Norman attempted to rouse her, Ray stepped in, "Norman, it would be best to let her have time to herself today. It's… well it's been a year since she lost her father. Give her some quiet to mourn, please?"
Norman's expression went from concerned to that fatherly look he had, and nodded. "I see, yes it would be best to let Ms. Dorothy have some time for herself." Ray did what would have been Dorothy's half of the work that day, and helped Norman with some of the repair part orders for Big O. When Dorothy did emerge from her room that day, and Roger was about to be his typical self, Ray gave him a rather well placed kick to the shins, drawing his ere away.
"Ray, what has gotten into you? Wait, why are you dragging me out of the lounge?" Ray had simply grabbed his arm and led him into the nearest room, which was unfortunately his bedroom. "This is not a room a young lady typically brings a man to unless she is planning something, Ray."
"I'm aware of that, and keep it in your pants! I didn't drag you in here for that." Ray admonished him. "Look, today, just keep your trap shut, Dorothy has her reasons for acting as she has, not that I expect you to understand."
"And what wouldn't I understand?"
"Her father died a year ago today, she needs time to herself to process that. And since you seem to think an android's emotions aren't real, I'm telling you to keep your mouth shut and let her deal with it." Ray had her hands on her hips, and was giving Roger a very angry leer. Though a good head shorter than him, Ray could be very intimidating when she felt like it.
"Oh. You could've just told me that."
"No I could not have, because you're too stubborn. Now please just be nice." Ray sighed and crossed her arms in frustration. "Honestly you were there with her, shouldn't you be more concerned than angry at her?" With that Ray turned and left Roger with his thoughts, most of them guilt at not being more aware of what today meant for the sullen teenage android he had lived with for a year.
She was in the underground subway again, not the brightly lit tunnels of the underground system, but nothing was chasing her this time. Instead, in front of her was a hazy figure, covered in what looked like blood.
"Who…?" She couldn't finish the sentence, the scene in front of her was jaring. Blood dripped off the figures' hands, and she couldn't make out who it was through the haze surrounding them. It was too small to be the assassin that went after her life the previous year. Still, there was so much blood, as if it had just finished killing.
"You do not belong here." The thing's voice was broken, like a speaker chirping one second and sending out white noise the next, and underneath that a chorus of voices. "You should not be here with us."
"Us?" Ray looked around, but could only see the figure dripping blood saying it felt like many sets of eyes were watching from the shadows, unseen and undisturbed.
"Those of us who are from this world. You are not, so you should not be here." The figure pointed a drenched finger in the direction where Ray was slowly backing up from.
"No shit, but I can't go home yet." She couldn't help but shrug. Not like she hadn't heard that before, but last time it had been an old man.
"You can if you meet your end." It laughed, and the hairs on the back of Ray's neck stood up while Ray herself tried to back away faster.
"Not so excited to hear you say that. Wait… You're…!" It hit Ray then who this was. "So you're finally awake huh? Why now?" Ray was suddenly on guard, and felt a rippling tension run through her body akin to a bolt of lightning.
"It doesn't matter, you and all the rest will die as the godless dogs you are." The voice screeched, the tunnel filled with flames accompanied by the scent of burning flesh, forcing Ray to wake up gasping for air.
"Dammit. She's alive, and based on what she said… so that means that..." Ray sat in bed racking her brains until dawn, when she went to help Norman uncharacteristically early.
In the master bedroom of the house, its occupant also had a similar dream.
He was in the underground subway again, not the brightly lit tunnels of the underground system. Instead, in front of him was a hazy figure, slowly walking towards him.
"Who do you serve, Negotiator?" The thing's voice was masculine and threatening. No sooner had the figure spoken did flames erupted from the tunnel behind Roger. He turned to look behind, tried to cover his face before the searing heat of the flames took him. And as soon as the flames washed over him his dreamscape changed, he was above ground, in a Paradigm being ravaged and flattened by many Bigs. He couldn't make out two of them, but many Big O's and Big Duo's were destroying the city. The third Big was white, and marched in time with the other two, raining destruction as it went, the dream ended after another Big, clouded in haze, appeared and sent out beams of light in all directions.
"Ah!" Roger woke up, covered in sweat and gripping his bed sheets. Dorothy was standing at his bedroom door, calling for him softly.
"Roger, are you alright? I could hear you shouting."
"I'm fine, Dorothy, thanks. It was just a nightmare." He got up and took an uncharacteristic morning shower. From the door Dorothy was frowning.
That night, while the baleful duo of fools slept, a small form in a red hood shot an exotic dancer, and when the deed was done, used cherry red lipstick to write Cast in the name of God… Ye Not Guilty! on the mirror before fleeing to whence it had come.
Roger went to see Big Ear, he had to know something about why his client was killed, information was his bread and butter after all.
"Your client was the young Ellen Waight, correct?"
"Yes."
"Rumor has it that this "Ellen" lady who was killed had been going around saying some strange things. Supposedly she told the other dancers that she had memories of what Paradigm was like 40 years ago." Big Ear turned the page of his paper and continued, "But she was barely 20. It's strange, don't you think?."
"Anything else?"
"That's all I have, unfortunately."
"I see. Thanks for the info." Roger got up and placed a stack of bills on the table, which Big Ear covered with his paper before taking a drink.
The dreary nonstop rain that marked the beginning of February in Paradigm came down like a continuous clap of thunder. Roger was on his way home, when Norman called him over the car's telephone line. He clicked a button without taking his eyes off the road. "What is it, Norman?"
"Master Roger, Major Dastun has asked you to visit him at his precinct office."
"Can it wait, Norman? Today's been kind of crummy."
"About that sir, the reason Major Dastun is asking for you to swing by is concerning your deceased client. He says it is imperative that he speak with you immediately sir."
"I see. Well, tell him I'm on my way." Roger rerouted to the police station, but he didn't expect to get interrogated. When Roger got there Dastun was working on paperwork as always, but he got up and looked out the window at the dreary weather.
"It's been raining for a week. It's starting to get me down." Dastun turned away from the blinds and looked at the work on his desk.
"Why did you need to see me, Major Dastun?"
"Calm down now." Rogers' tone made it clear to Dastun he was less than thrilled to be here.
"From the look on your face I can tell you didn't call me here for a pleasant chat."
"Then let me ask you something. Do you know these people?" Dastun placed some photos on the desk. The photos were rather gruesome: a dead taxi driver, an elevator attendant, and a woman in towels laying against a wall, blood and brains splattered on it, and a messily written message on the wall above her, but in her picture most of it was cut off and illegible.
Looking at the photos Rogers' eyes widened just a hint, thankfully he was still wearing his sunglasses. "Ellen Waight. She's a client"
"When did you meet her last?" Dastun may not have seemed like it, but he had a grave and terrible feeling about all of this.
"Hate to say it, but I never did meet her face to face. She called and asked me to negotiate for her. That night she was killed." Roger became pensive. It wasn't the first time one of his clients had died in the last few months.
"The three victims have nothing in common. They had different jobs, lived different lives, with no noticeable intersect." Dastun rubbed the latticework of scars on his head.
"Then why do you think they have the same killer?"
"Do you know what this phrase means?" Dastun put a new photo on top of the others.
Rogers's eyes widened yet again behind his sunglasses. "'Cast in the name of God, Ye not Guilty,' No, can't say I do." That was a lie of course, both him and Dastun knew that, but unlike his home, Dastun's office might be wiretapped. "If that's all you wanted from me, I'd like to go home. This has been a distressing day."
"Yeah, sure. Take care of yourself."
After suffering from nightmares a little too similar to Roger's, Ray finally decided she needed to call someone and ask for a favor, but the person was less than thrilled.
"You actually had the gall to call me? Well then, you must need something."
"Yeah. Can you get me something and have it delivered in a day or two? Something is coming, and it's coming fast. I can't afford to wait." Ray was careful not to give away who she was speaking too, knowing that it would be trivially easy for Dorothy to eavesdrop on her.
"Hm, what is it then?"
"I'll give you a list." Ray rattled off the few things she needed, "And in case you want to know why, it's related to whoever has been on a killing spree."
"You think they're after you?"
"Very likely. Have it delivered here in a box from one of the book stores, it'll draw less suspicion."
"Fine." The man on the other end hung up.
"Sigh. I hope he comes through." Ray hung up the receiver and went back to preparing dinner. "I very likely could die if he doesn't."
Roger had returned from being interrogated and decided to ask Dorothy for help with something, but he couldn't find her in her usual haunts, so he went to ask Norman. He was in the repair bay, working on Big O after the fight with Big Duo. The iron giant had seen better fights with fewer battle scars.
"Norman!" He had to shout to be heard over the repairs.
"Oh, Master Roger. I had no idea you were back." Norman stopped working the controls to face him.
"I can't find Dorothy anywhere."
"Sir. I'm terribly sorry, sir. I've been so busy with maintenance that it slipped my mind, I'll start dinner at once." Norman made to leave the repair bay.
"No, it's ok. Keep working." Roger sighed. So, Dorothy clearly wasn't here either. "Norman?"
"Sir?"
"Do you ever wonder about the memories you have?"
"How do you mean, sir?"
"Well, about the fact that you're able to keep the Big O in perfect shape?"
"Sir?" Norman turned from the control console of the bay and looked at Roger. "Well sir, do you ever question your ability to pilot the Big O, why you're able to pilot it so well?"
Roger looked up at the hulking Megadeus, gazing into the yet-again scarred metal of his impassive face. Oddly enough, before the two teenage girls that were a source of his daily irritation moved in, Roger had never thought of Big O as male, or female for that matter. It was yet another mystery in his life that he hoped would stay sealed shut.
"Ye… no." Roger wasn't being entirely honest, but more often than not, he didn't know or care why he could pilot the Big O, just that when he needed Big O the iron giant was there for him to save the day.
"Well then sir, neither do I." Norman responded in a jovial manner.
"I see. Thanks Norman." Roger left the bay then, going in search of one other person who might know where Dorothy was off to.
Ray knew what was coming, more or less, but wasn't sure how to prepare for it past asking for that favor. No, her. The problem was a her. She was deep in reverie trying to find a method to solve this newest assassin after her life. Or was she after her life? Ray wasn't sure, but having a very similar nightmare to the ones Roger was having did not sit well with her.
She was reading some manga she had found in a used bookstore, glad to find something she was more familiar with from her homeworld, and a needed distraction from her current anxiety-inducing situation. Lounging on the couch, using some pillows to prop her head up and trying to relax for a change. Not that she would have time to enjoy it.
"Ray, have you seen Dorothy today?"
"Hm?" Looking from behind the pages of her book, Roger was standing over her looking perplexed. "I thought she was helping Norman repair Big O?"
"Well, she wasn't in the bay."
"Maybe he sent her off to get a parts order? Anyways, what's up? You look a little skittish."
"Is it that obvious?" He sighed. "Well, I'm having a few problems with clients dying recently. And it seems the murderer is using the activation code from Big O."
"Huh." Ray tried to sound surprised, but it felt hollow, even to her. "Not sure what you expect me to say, but um, well…" She left the sentence unfinished, but the implication was there.
Roger snorted in derision. "Yeah, I know. Well, on another topic, what are you reading? It's not even in English."
"鬼滅の刃." Ray said whatever that was in Japanese. Roger had learned recently she could speak it, but only after she had admitted to it on her birthday of all days.
"In English please."
"Demon Slayer."
"Uh, that sounds… ominous." Oh great, what weird content is she getting into now?
"Eh. It's about slaying human-eating demons and putting an end to a thousand year long war between humans and demons. Can't be that bad right? ... Ok maybe I shouldn't let Dorothy read this. It gets pretty graphic and Norman probably wouldn't like me exposing her to this." I mean I read the whole thing in English already. I know it's not a bad series or pushes anything weird, but I'm guessing no one else in the house is used to the shonen genre of fighting mythical creatures or monsters and getting stronger in order to save the world.
"I would imagine not. Well, if you see Dorothy let her know I was asking about her."
"Any particular message I should relay?" Ray was already back to flipping through the pages of her manga.
"No. Just let her know." With that Roger was off to find his next lead.
Dorothy had returned home with the shopping. Norman had indeed asked her to go to the stores and order repair parts. Big O had taken more damage than initially thought, and Norman had needed more orders placed. Additionally, he had asked Dorothy to buy the groceries for dinner while she was out to save trips.
After putting everything away she went up to the lounge to find Ray reading a book in Japanese, she had told Dorothy they were called manga, and seemingly Ray was lost in its pages.
"Ray, have you seen Roger today?"
Ray peeked from behind her books pages, looking perplexed. "Is this a game the two of you are playing to mess with me?"
"So yes."
"Yeah, he said to let you know he was asking about you. But that's all he told me."
"I see. What are you reading?"
"Demon Slayer."
"Norman would not approve of me reading that would he?" At this point, the two got along fairly well, and had stopped the constant fighting. Dorothy had even read most of the books in Ray's room, partly to stave off boredom and partly because Ray did tend to enjoy interesting literature.
"Nope."
"So why does Norman let you read that stuff?"
"Because I'm a lost cause." Ray shrugged. "Either that or he knows he's never going to get me to act ladylike."
"Are those not the same thing?"
"More or less."
"Or is it because Norman knows you are not 'straight'?" Dorothy became accusatory.
Ray blinked in confusion. "Huh. How long have you known?"
"A while. You never respond to Roger's flirting attempts, you wear boyish clothing, and every time that woman comes around in revealing clothing your eyes tend to focus on certain… areas of her anatomy."
Ray laughed, but it was a sullen laugh. "Well, I'm not one to turn down a free show. And it's not like I don't like men, but Roger's not my type. His looks are great and all, but his personality is a little… Well we don't mesh well. Anyways, I'd appreciate it if you kept quiet about my preferences though, alright? Don't tell anyone if you can avoid it."
"I had no intention of doing so. But do not ever hit on me."
"That's fair. Didn't plan on it anyways, I know you don't care for women that way." Dorothy left Ray alone then, and went to help Norman with Big O's repairs.
That night, as Roger was fitfully sleeping, he had another nightmare about the figure cloaked in red.
"That's right, you should know too." The figure was small in stature, but the voice was deep and hollow.
"Who's there?" It was dark in the tunnel, and Roger couldn't see much save the cloaked figure that came ever closer.
"You want to know?" It asked ominously before the tunnel erupted in flames, and Roger woke in a cold sweat yet again.
The murders of various young adults in Paradigm who had somehow awakened memories not their own continued, and at each crime scene, a certain phrase was found written in cherry red lipstick. Cast in the name of God… Ye Not Guilty! And in each scene, a certain Major overdue for a promotion presided over the carnage.
"Larry Flannis, age 23." A young lieutenant stated standing over the body, "He was a porter for the hotel."
"Where was Roger Smith when the murder occured?" Major Dan Dastun pulled his cap over his face. In the locker in a staff room, the body of a young technician with a gaping hole in his chest was shoved inside, his legs sprawled out of the metal bent door frame, and covering the bent door was that message, in messy quick handwriting.
"Sir, it's not known if he was here at that time, but he was on the premises when the body was found." A subordinate came up to him with a clipboard with names and statements. "He was supposedly speaking to a staff member in the main entrance."
"Why am I not surprised?" Dastun sighed. Why did his old drinking buddy and lieutenant have to keep getting in trouble.
"Sir?"
"Canvas the area again. Find a witness." Dastun began giving orders. "The pride of the Military Police is on the line."
"Sir, what should we do about Roger Smith? He's still here being detained."
"I see. I'll question him myself then." Dan Dastun went to do just that. "This is becoming a very bad habit of yours Roger."
"Yeah, no kidding." Roger appeared frazzled, and Dastun couldn't blame him, somehow he had something to do with all the victims, even if it was indirect. "So what happened this time? Is it the same killer?"
"Most likely, that message was there." Dastun wouldn't have shared that typically, but his gut feeling told him Roger wasn't the killer. Dastun knew his old lieutenant had a distaste for violence and bloodshed, and his many decades on the job had taught him to trust his gut. Roger might be hiding something, but being a murderer isn't it.
"Damn, so it is a serial killer."
"Either that or a series of copy cats who are all in on it." Dastun told Roger to scram while he finished his investigation. It's not like Dastun didn't know where to find his reclusive friend.
Roger and Dorothy continued in their back and forth that was a source of consternation for Ray. For the better part of a week the two somehow managed to miss each other entirely save at breakfast and maybe dinner. But when one or the other wasn't around they would hound Ray and Norman for the location of the missing one.
"Roger… is that watch just for show?" One day Ray had simply had enough.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Dorothy's got a tracker or whatever on her at Norman's insistence, and your watch can track her, can it not?"
"Oh… well that seems a bit much doesn't it?" Ray shook her head in disbelief.
"If you aren't going to use it to find her, quit asking me. She's either out getting parts for Big O, helping Norman or off at Instro's, in which case I would probably be with her."
"Ok, I see your point. Sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck. Ray had become more snappish recently. Dorothy had told him in passing the one time the two had seen each other that Ray's nightmares were getting worse, when she'd been having less of them before.
Some time later Dorothy came looking for Ray, but not to ask for Roger's wearabouts. "Ray…"
"I do not know where Roger is."
"I wasn't going to ask you about that, this time."
"Oh lovely, a change of pace. What's up?" Ray put her book down and got up.
"Do you know if Norman is still in the bay?"
"He should be, he's been working on Big O nonstop. And he's only letting me help him with some steps." It was true, Norman hadn't gotten a lot of sleep recently and he'd been working so much. Ray had taken to cooking and his share of the cleaning to help.
"Oh."
"What's wrong?" Dorothy didn't use that defeatist tone near Ray often, but when she did it wasn't good.
"My oil filters need to be replaced… but if he's busy then I don't know what to do." Dorothy frowned.
"Uh… um… Ok before I answer, did you just want to vent or did you want a suggestion?"
"Both."
"Ok, well you vented so… Is it terribly difficult to replace the filters? Do you have to go down for it to be done?"
"What are you about to suggest?" Dorothy cocked her head to the right.
"That if Norman is too preoccupied to do it… maybe I can help? Assuming you don't hate the thought of someone like me ya know… looking inside and replacing parts and all that."
"What did I say about hitting on me?"
"I swear I'm not!" Despite her protests Ray's face was beaten red. "It's just… well you need it done right? And if Norman can't then at least you could guide me through it assuming you don't need to be sleeping or go down."
"Maybe I'll wait."
"How close are you to needing it done?"
"The sooner the better." Dorothy did not want to admit that to Ray after all.
"Then you shouldn't wait." After pausing for a bit Ray sighed. "Look, I know this probably isn't ideal for either of us, but assuming I don't have to do anything too complicated, how hard can it be to replace a filter if you tell me what to do? I can change the oil and filter on my bike after all." Norman had taught Ray basic maintenance so she wouldn't have to bug him about it, but also so he could work on his own motorcycle.
Dorothy's eyes narrowed. "I do not like being compared to a motorcycle…"
"Sorry."
"But you may be correct. Assuming you can be guided through the process then it should suffice until Norman can do a more thorough job."
"Huh? Oh… well alright then. Let's go down to the repair bay then." The two took the elevator down, and Dorothy went into the office after making sure Norman wasn't inside, as he wasn't on the heavy machinery either. After giving Ray instructions to wait outside until she was called, and while not threatening in so many words, Dorothy made it very clear Ray would regret coming in early. "Ok, ok I get it. Sheesh."
While Ray waited outside the door, Norman chose an opportune time to appear. "Ms. Ray, what are you doing out here?"
"Uh… well now that you're here maybe you should do it."
"What Ms. Ray?"
"Replace Dorothy's oil filters. She had wanted you to do it, but since you were busy with Big O's repairs…" Ray rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, nervous.
"She actually agreed to let you? My word Ray, do you have any idea what you are getting into?"
"Is it that bad? Well then you really should be the one too…"
"Ray, you can come in now." Dorothy called from behind the closed door.
"Welp, that's your cue Norman." As Ray was about to leave the elderly gentleman dragged her into the repair bay office/android operating room with him. "Wait hold on, why are you dragging me in here?"
"Since Ms. Dorothy has agreed to it, and learning how to work on an android is an invaluable skill set in this city, I'm of the opinion you should take the opportunity given to you and learn."
"Yeah but on… oh." Ray stopped mid protest, her face going beat red and she had to look away. Dorothy is gonna kill me.
On the adjustable height table Norman used to work on her, Dorothy sat with only a very thin, somewhat see-through, sheet covering her, her clothing folded neatly on a chair nearby. "Norman, what are you doing here?"
"I ran into Ms. Ray outside the office and she apprised me of the situation. Why are you blushing so furiously Ms. Ray?"
"I didn't know she was going to be naked!" Ray covered her face in embarrassment. Oh god she's really going to kill me now! Why didn't she tell me?
"Did you think this could be done with clothing on?" Norman chided her.
"Well not all of it obviously. I thought it would be more like a gyno exam or maybe a physical exam where you kept your undergarments on." Ray's blush returned and she felt her temperature raising after realizing how stupid that sounded. "But… agh I'm sorry I'll leave." As Ray attempted another retreat Norman dragged her into the room and nearer the table.
"My word Ms. Ray what has gotten into you, you're both girls, certainly this shouldn't be an issue."
That's entirely the issue!
"Ray it is fine."
"Are… are you sure? Ray had shoved her hands in her pockets, trying to look away. "I mean, it's not too late to tell me to scram. It's your body after all. You have a say in who does this."
"I know, but I do not believe Norman will let you leave." She was right of course.
"Why do you care if I do this anyway, Norman?" Ray looked up and met his one good eye.
"A few reasons, besides learning a valuable skill set, god forbid if something happened to me the two of you would be relying on each other quite a bit I should think. The two of you together could probably fix Big O without me, but only you would be able to work on Ms. Dorothy should she need repairs."
"Huh… that is not what I expected." Ray turned her gaze to Dorothy, "Well, if you're really ok with this, tell me what to do."
Dorothy nodded before laying down on the table, the sheet covering her lower half, her back exposed. "Feel along my lower back, on either side of my spine there should be small divots."
"Ok," Ray did as instructed, feeling slowly and carefully until she found the spots, just barely a few inches above Dorothy's hips. Her skin is so soft. Wait no, get your brain out of the gutter! You're doing an operation on an android, focus. "Found it, I think. Now what?"
"Gently press inward and twist slightly." At her direction, Ray did so, a small panel door popped open and heard a gut wrenching noise.
"Jesus christ! Did your skin just rip!?"
"Yes."
"Holy… how the hell does that not hurt?"
"It does."
"..." Ray felt like she was going to throw up. Wow, I've never suffered from an uncanny valley before… No… that's not what this is… I'm not scared that I opened her up or that she's incredibly human like. This is just me being horrified I hurt someone. This probably wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't in pain. I hate hurting others. "Uh… ok now what?" Ray ignored the gut feelings, it was too late to stop now.
"Pull the skin back, yes like that, gently open the latched panel, and pull those nobs up." Ray continued following Dorothy's direction. "Now, the filters are in those brackets, take them out and replace them."
"Um, Norman, where are the spare...? Oh thanks." He handed her a filter. Ray gently placed the new filter on the sheet, carefully removing the old filter from its housing, before placing it in a bin Norman held out for her. "Ugh my hands are gross."
"Wipe them on the sheet and keep going." Those instructions came from the elderly mentor, and Ray did as she was told. After her hand was clean she placed the new filter in the bracket, placed the bracket back into Dorothy's back and closed the small latched panel.
"Ok, that's one done." Ray made quick work of the other, "Now how do I fix your skin?"
"My synthetic skin is self healing, carefully smooth it out and it will begin to repair itself."
"Ok… and done, I think. Does it hurt less now?"
"I turned my sensors for that region off as soon as you had the panels open."
"... WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT!? This whole time I thought I was hurting you, you jerk!"
"Does surgery not hurt humans?" Dorothy gathered some of the sheet and sat up covering herself, her skin on her back had already begun stitching itself back together, soon you couldn't tell she had been opened up at all.
"Yes it does." Ray sighed and just let it go. "Didn't think I would be performing the android equivalent of kidney replacement surgery today though." Ray turned and headed for the door. "I'll leave so you can get dressed."
"Did something happen between you two? You seem unusually trusting of Ms. Ray as of late. And why was she so embarrassed to see you in such a position? Perhaps you should have informed her of all this would entail before asking her to replace your filters." Norman pondered on the two teens' actions towards each other as of late.
"She volunteered out of concern for my health. And… We… have an agreement."
"An agreement about?"
"Do not worry about it, Norman. Ray has kept her end of it, and I will keep mine. I would like to get dressed now." Norman took the hint and left. Norman is right, however, I should have told her I would have to be undressed for that. I know how she sees other women. I did not anticipate she would feel that way around a machine however. Dorothy stopped herself for a second after dressing, a new thought coming to her processes. Ray has never seen me as a machine has she? No, she knows I am an android, that is an unavoidable truth. She simply does not see the need to treat androids different from humans. And another, more disturbing to Dorothy's senses, realization came to her. Is that why I trusted her to do this? Because I knew she wouldn't be disgusted by seeing my insides, but concerned for my well-being? The reasoning was flimsy, even to Dorothy, but she made a mental note to ask her later that day.
She would have her chance after dinner. "Ray… Why did you volunteer to replace my oil filters?"
"Huh? Uh well, I was worried about you. You almost never complain about your own health after all." Ray scratched at her cheek nervously. Oh no, what is she going to accuse me of?
"So it wasn't an excuse to see another woman naked?" Ray's face turned so red Dorothy was certain she would explode.
"Oh my god, Dorothy, will you please drop it? If I had known you weren't going to be wearing anything I would've told you to wait for Norman!" Ray calmed down after shouting and looked away, avoiding eye contact with Dorothy. "If you were that uncomfortable with it you should have told me to go. It's not like I've ever performed maintenance on an android before."
"You don't see me as an android do you?"
"Hm?" Ray finally met Dorothy's piercing gaze. "What are you on about?"
"You don't see me as an android, but a human, that's why you became so embarrassed when you saw me isn't it?"
"Uh… what? Dorothy, I see you as a person, android or human. I would feel that way." Ray was thoroughly confused. What does she mean I don't see her as an android? Kinda hard to forget she has a lamp/disk drive combo in her skull and I just replaced her oil filters.
"Is there a difference?"
"Yes. I know your head is made of metal, but you are being unusually thick today." Ray shook her head before shrugging. "Look, unlike Roger who thinks he's top dog and the most dignified man in the room, and how most people treat androids in this city, I believe in treating others with dignity until they give me a reason not to. And despite our constant squabbles when we first met, you really haven't given me a reason not to. To me, you're just Dorothy. I don't care what you're made of, you are you." Ray sighed before continuing, "Besides, I would be equally embrassessed if Instro showed up naked in front of me."
"Why would Instro be here naked?"
"I would hope he wouldn't be! Geez you're dense." Ray moved to leave, "I need to get ready for… something. I'll talk to you later."
Roger headed to the Speakeasy, he had to ask Big Ear about all this. He was in his usual spot when Roger asked him about the deaths of the young people. "This is just a rumor, but there is one other thing all the victims claim. They weren't born in this city."
"Is that right? All of them?"
"From what I've gathered. Say, doesn't the young lady living with you claim to be born elsewhere as well?" Big Ear turned the page and gave Roger a side glance.
"Yeah. Should I be worried about Ray?" Roger gulped down his beer, hoping the alcohol would soothe his nerves.
"Has she claimed to have memories that aren't hers?"
"Just the opposite, she says she can't remember how she got to Paradigm." Roger sighed, "But I'll speak with her anyways. Thanks." Roger dropped a stack of bills and left, and he headed off to Ellen Waight's apartment.
The apartment was in a run down shabby part of town, even by Paradigm's outside the Dome standards, the rain appeared to make it even more so. Roger made his way up to her apartment, using his pen key and opened the door with little effort. Once inside the apartment was mostly bare, save for the nightstand table, which had a few pictures in plywood frames. One was Ellen Waight in a dancer costume with other girls from the Nighting Gale club, another of the deceased on the arm of a man, likely her boyfriend, but the last picture is what caught Roger's attention.
"Huh?" He put the others aside and picked up the framed photograph. It was of an abandoned building, white edifaced, large and out of the way, but had clearly been left to rot since whatever had taken everyone's memories forty years ago. "That's- I know that place."
Roger left the apartment and headed to the building in his memories. "Why do I know this place?" He got out of the Griffin and entered the run down building. He needed his flashlight as it was too dark outside from the rain for there to be any light within. The inside was dusty, and eerily quiet.
"That's right, I've been here before." He made his way down the hallway, flashes of memories running through his mind. But why had he been here? "Ah?"
The hallway he remembered going further was seemingly blocked. He began pressing along the wall until he found a small divot that went inwards and pushed it. The wall moved, the way unlocked, Roger made his way further in until he found a strange room. "A library with no books, huh?"
As he walked along the shelves he heard another set of steps, too light to be a big brute. He stopped and saw a red hooded figure a few shelves away.
"Did someone hire you to come here?" Angel asked.
"She died before we could finalize a contract, unfortunately." Roger sighed, clients dying was never good for business.
"What are you doing here then?"
"Trying to find out why she wanted to hire me."
"You must have a lot of free time on your hands." Angel laughed.
"Not at all." Roger shrugged, everyone was a critic these days.
Angel became serious. "You shouldn't dig too deep into this. It's for your own good that I'm even warning you now. Paradigm's executives don't think you're using the Megadeus properly."
"Oh, Alex Rosewater thinks that, does he?" Though Ray had never directly told him, he eventually had figured out from some of her hints that the man on the throne thought of himself as Roger's enemy. Roger wasn't sure why, it's not like he wanted that power for himself. He liked his bachelor lifestyle, when two teenagers weren't hassling him at any rate.
"Schwarzwald piloted his because he wanted to destroy this city." Angel scoffed as the name of the mad reporter passed her lips, as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. "Roger, what do you pilot yours for? Are you using that power with a specific goal in mind?"
"What are you trying to say?" Roger had a pretty good idea what Angel meant, but he didn't like the insinuation.
"I just thought I would ask." Angel flipped up her hood and left.
"This is-?" The library was burning, this building that just a second ago was empty, was filled with books, and they were burning. Bald children stood in front of a man in a surgeon's outfit, bar codes scrolled in their eyes, the building collapsed taking the children out with it, and in the city not far away, metal giants ravaged the cityscape.
"That's right, you already knew." He was in the subway tunnel, the deep voice calling to him from the figure in the red hood.
"Who's calling me? Schwarzwald?"
"Who me? I'm…" Before the answer could reach him Roger snapped out of his delusions. "What's happening to me? Huh? That wasn't there before." After Roger recovered from his visions he found a book in red binding on the shelf where Angel had been near before. It was titled Metropolis and the author was listed as one Gordon Rosewater. I guess it's time to pay the old man a visit.
"These are…? Hm." Roger wasn't sure what to think of what was written in the book, but the list of names that fell from the pages were those who had been murdered recently. He left the dilapidated building and made his way to the farming dome at the other end of Paradigm.
Roger made a detour home and looked for Norman, and found him in the repair bay again. He had to shout to be heard. "Norman!"
"Oh, Master Roger! I had no idea you were back."
"I haven't seen Dorothy around lately." At least Norman wouldn't snap at Roger for asking like Ray had.
"Oh. Really sir? I can go look for her if you need."
"No, that's all right, keep working." Roger shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. How did he manage to miss one of only three other people that lived in the house? "Norman?"
"Sir?"
"I'll be out for a while."
"You won't be needing dinner then?"
"Na. I'll see you later." Roger left the now slightly less beat up iron giant and his servant, off to the farming dome.
In his dome office above all his kingdom Alex Rosewater was talking with his assistant, "He took the bait?"
"Yes, Roger Smith is heading to Ailesbury Farming Dome as we speak." His pink clad assistant Angel was dressed a fair bit nicer than when she had left that book for Roger.
"He went to meet the author of that book I suppose."
"Is this a good idea?" Angel asked while shuffling files.
"It won't matter." Rosewater smirked at his reflection as the dias circled around.
"I suppose not." Angel gave a sad smile.
"His awakening has already begun." His desk atop the dias moved towards his next meeting.
"But don't you think it's dangerous sir? To reveal the existence of foreigners?" She checked off on some paper he handed her.
"Not at all, revealing the existence of foreigners won't hinder my plans in the slightest." The desk stopped, and before the raised wall dropped so he could observe the senators meeting, he said, "Besides, I intend to keep my promises to them, unlike my father."
The rain had resumed between his leaving the mansion and reaching Ailesbury, but Roger didn't mind. Once he reached the farm, he parked the Griffin outside in the garage for visitors and headed in to talk to the old man. While the outside of the dome was gloomy, the inside was bright and sunny. The whole dome was wheat, corn stalks and a large tree as far as the eye could see. The path down to the farmhouse at its center was nothing but dirt. It certainly has a rustic charm. The atmosphere was quaint. It was also large enough to have it's own weather system and not just artificial sun. As Roger neared a log cabin hut he spied an old man rocking in a chair.
"Pleased to meet you. You were destined to come here eventually." Gordon Rosewater, the retired head of the Paradigm corporation, sat in the rocking chair, in his farmers overall, a red short sleeved button up, and beige boots. He looked far too old to be actively farming.
"This probably isn't our first meeting, Mr. Gordon Rosewater." Roger looked at the face chiseled with wrinkles.
"The tomatoes here are pretty well made." He muttered in a voice that sounded tired. "Fetch Mr. Smith some freshly picked ones."
Roger nearly jumped in surprise as the farmer behind him nodded, when had he snuck up on Roger? He cleared his throat before continuing. "Ten or twenty years ago, you inserted memories of the past into several children. Four of those who have remembered have already been killed. Why is this really necessary?"
The old man looked down at a basket beside him, filled with ripe red tomatoes. "These are only synthetic, reproduced with only the delicious memories of the original. If we keep repeating the process, these tomatoes will eventually become the real thing."
Roger sighed and sat down on the wooden stairs, not sure what to make of this crazy old man talking in riddles. How could a clone ever become the real thing?
"You read that book?" Gordon seemed to take interest in the thing he suddenly realized that Roger was holding.
"Yes."
"It's all a lie." He stated. "The world destroyed by a cataclysm, the giant robots that ran rampart, the power of God wielded by man."
"But the book isn't finished! Half the pages are blank." Roger protested.
"Son, you have to harvest at the proper time. After waiting all that time for the tomatoes to ripen, it's be a shame if you let them rot."
"I don't get it. I mean I get not letting the crops you grow rot, but I don't get the rest." Roger sighed. Yeah this old man is crazy.
Gordon started chowing down on a tomato from the basket that the farmer had brought over, juices spilled down his chin as he ate the tomato like an apple. "You should find that answer for yourself." He finished the fruit and wiped his hands and face with a red handkerchief in his breast pocket. "You can do it. No, you should be able to do it."
"I see." Roger made to leave with one of the fruits in hand, when the old man gave him a parting shot.
"That child living with you is not one of my tomatoes, young Negotiator."
"Huh!" For once, he gave a straightforward answer, but it did little to quell Roger's suspicions of Ray's past. If anything it sent him back to square one. "Then what is she?"
"What makes you think this old fuddy duddy knows?"
"Well you knew she wasn't one or your experiments."
"Hrmp, I know all that we grow here, so it would stand to reason that I would know she was not grown here." After that, Gordon set to rocking away in his chair.
Back at home, Ray had received a package from the bookstore, and inside was all that she needed, with instructions on where the rest was hidden for retrieval. "I just hope this works." Ray sighed as she got ready to go for a ride.
"Where are you going?" Dorothy caught her at the elevator as she was making to leave.
"Out. Tell Norman I'm not sure when I'll be back."
"You aren't getting into trouble are you?"
Ray snorted a laugh. "No, actually. I'm hoping this will get me out of it." Ray stepped into the elevator and bid Dorothy farewell. If this is the last time I see her, at least I know she was worried for me, for once.
Ray knew Roger would be heading to the abandoned train depot, not far from the subway entrance. She had seen the red book on him and knew what that meant, and yet, she had hoped for things to play out differently. My influence was never going to be enough to change this world's fate. I knew that, but a different path can still reach the same end.
It took Ray half an hour to get there. She parked her motorcycle behind some train cars and covered it with a tarp to keep it out of the rain. All that was left was to wait for Roger to get there. She climbed onto a nearby car, and came face to face with a little red riding hood.
"Ah well fuck me eh?" Ray was just at a loss for what else to say.
"You're a bit early." The figure in red spoke, it's voice far too masculine for the small frame.
"Yeah. I'm just waiting."
"For the Negotiator?"
"That was my plan, yes."
"Hmph." She didn't react at first, just stood there in silence before finally asking. "Why are you in this world?"
"Hell if I know." Ray shrugged. "But if it's all the same to you I'd like to go back to my homeworld alive."
"I won't kill you."
"Oh, how kind of you." Ray feigned delighted sarcasm. She wasn't entirely sure if she could believe a homicidal gynoid.
"Unless you plan to stop me from finishing him off." Her voice became hostile.
"Nah, you have fun with that. We both know you're going to fail." Ray carefully edged closer to the subway entrance, keeping an eye out for a certain black sedan.
"Yes… that seems to be the case." She paused, curious of this human that showed relatively little fear given her current, and rather dangerous, predicament. "Why do you know that?"
"Because in my world, we know about yours, that's all."
"Hm… you could cause a lot of chaos if you told everyone the truth."
"I could yeah, but likely I'd be murdered by a crazed mob or would cause an uptick in suicides. I don't find either of those to be ideal for my situation at hand." Ray sighed, looking back at the cloaked figure. "Look, I know you aren't going to give me a straight answer, but if you know you're being manipulated, why not just… stop and come try and live with Dorothy? You know she'd welcome you, even if you've done terrible things like committing murder."
"I cannot."
"That's what I thought you'd say."
"It isn't that I don't want to. It's that the compulsion of this programming is so insistent I would likely turn on her. Death of myself is preferable to harming the only sister I have." She stopped, and then became pensive, "Given the fact that I've committed atrocities, she could be charged too."
Ray went slack jawed, straightened her face up, and then just stared blankly. "I… well damn."
"He's coming, you should hide."
Ray nodded and climbed down off the car. Dammit. Well now what?
Roger pulled up to the abandoned rail yard and pulled out the list of names from earlier. The list was cut off at the end, but the name before the cut off was the initials R.D.
"This is the right address alright." He cut the engine and saw a red cloaked figure disappear into the tunnel. "R… Red!"
He got out and followed the red cloaked figure into the tunnel, unaware that behind him, another familiar figure would be lurking. And now it begins. Ray thought as she waited for his footfalls to fall far enough away to barely hear hers.
Roger clicked on his flash light when he was far enough from the entrance to barely see. He passed a mangled train car, and next to it, a coffin meant to hold a mechanical being, trying not to let that unsettled him he kept going. The memories that were lost forty years ago. If they're sleeping here in the darkness, then…
"This… it's where you woke up, huh?" He turned around as the red cloaked figure touched down onto the gravel.
"Roger Smith…"
"Androids aren't supposed to be able to kill people. Are you different?"
"I've been ordered too. I've heard those orders from the instant I came into existence. So I killed them. It was as natural a thing to do as opening an umbrella in the rain."
"R stands for Red, what does D stand for?" He was becoming nervous, of course he was, he was face to face with a homicidal android. "Devil? Death? Dark?"
"Destiny!" She yelled.
"Destiny?" He parroted back.
"Who commands you?" Destiny asked.
"No one commands me!" Roger felt indignant, too many people had insinuated he was being used recently.
"Then why do you pilot it?"
"You're talking about the Megadeus?"
"They're the chariots of God. Those who pilot them are supposed to be commanded." She stated matter of factly, while slipping a hand into the basket she carried, "If you're saying you are not… then you have to die!" Destiny drew the gun on Roger as she screamed the last part.
Oh crap! He threw his flashlight at her with a spin, knocking the gun off kilter as a shot rang out. She shouted in frustration. The shot clipped Roger in the arm, and he turned and ran, leaving a bloody trail behind.
The tunnel was dark, save for a few emergency lights along the path. Roger guided himself with those, thankful the homicidal android had only clipped his arm. "If this keeps up I'll pass out from blood loss eventually."
He dipped between two train cars, careful not to alert the deadly foe behind him. "Come in Big O!" Nothing happened. "Grr, It's not responding. This tunnel must be jamming radio signals."
The footsteps were drawing closer. "Roger!" Destiny shrieked.
"No way out. Huh? Or maybe there is." He quickly got his jacket off and hung it on the end of the car, then quietly clambered up the railing onto the top of the carriage. There was just enough room for him to stand, but his footing wasn't too good. He heard shots from the assassins' handgun, and used the noise to make his escape. But as he jumped down in front of the emergency exit, Destiny made a crack shot and hit the electrical panel next to it, causing sparks and lighting up the whole tunnel.
"Roger!"
It was only then Roger made the ghastly connection. "R… D…" The sparks lit up the tunnel and under the hood he saw an all too familiar face. "R. Dorothy!"
"Bye bye, Negotiator!" Right as she was about to take the shot and end Roger for good, the ground shook, spilt under her, and she started going up! "Ah!" Just before she was crushed with the rubble, she disappeared from view, much to Roger's relief.
"Big O!" Looking up at the iron giant, the red crystal cockpit cover opened, and the crystalline half dome rose, inside the pilots chamber was a rather alarming and welcome sight. "Dorothy? You did that?"
"He moved on his own." Dorothy shouted down at him, even with Big O only waist up out of the concrete it was a good distance. "I was helping Norman, and it started up all of a sudden."
Roger laughed under his breath. "I haven't seen you around lately."
"You've been too busy."
Rogers' wrist watch beeped, and his elderly butler appeared on the small screen. "I'm terribly sorry, Master Roger. I was repairing the Big O when its control circuits suddenly linked up with the Prairiredog's power systems and they went haywire."
"Big O controlled the Prairiedog by itself?" Roger looked back up at the iron giant.
"What was that sir?" Back at the mansion, Norman was having difficulty hearing Roger, the screen was also partially covered in something.
"Nothing, nevermind."
"By the way Master Roger, the Military Policies mechanized platoon was just mobilized."
"Dastun did that?" Something had to be up for the panzers to be deployed.
"It would seem that something is headed towards the city from the sea."
"Dorothy?" Roger called up to her, and she moved from the pilot's seat.
"Master Roger, what about the cause of the runaway?" Norman was looking over papers on a clipboard.
"We're heading out for a bit." Roger winked at the small screen on his wrist.
"Very good, sir. What about dinner, then?" Norman put the clipboard down.
"See to it." With that the line was cut and Roger moved Big O to the sea, following radio chatter to find his way.
On the pier, looking out towards the sea, Angel looked at the three approaching figures with unease. "It's much too soon." Angel bit her lip in frustration, "If the power is released too soon… Does he want to ruin everything?"
The clanking of metal feet on pavement alerted Dastun that a large visitor was behind him. He looked away from the googles pointed at the three arriving foes back at the black giant. "The Megadeus huh?" It's likely the only weapon in all of Paradigm that can put an end to this.
In the cockpit, Roger eased Big O out to sea, but not before muttering to himself. "It's ok if some people want to dance in the rain without an umbrella. That's what it means to be free."
He let go of his bleeding arm, the release of pressure causing blood to flow. As Roger reached for the controls, Dorothy nimbly slid in beside him, her left hand covering his on Big O's joystick, her right resting on the back of the chair's headrest.
"Big O!" He shouted the activation code as the three strange looking Megadeus came for him. "Showtime!"
TO BE CONTINUED
Act 14 and the audio drama will be next, then the novel, then finally 15 on with the remaining manga chapters I plan to use. I've got most of the first chapter of the novel done, I really should post it.