deusch3 -=Deus Ex Machina (God from the Machine)=-
A Big O fanfic by Grendel226 a.k.a. Arren Dracone
Chapter 3: The Usual Strangers, And Dangerous Angels

References, works cited, and authors comments will be posted at the end of the story. The action takes place directly after Act 13: R*D.

Dorothy entered to find Roger asleep with his head on his desk. Tiptoeing quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping man she looked at the desk. The copy of Metropolis was spread open and a black book she had not presently seen lay next to it. Cluttering the normally pristine desks were countless balls of yellow paper, which Roger had torn out of his notepad in frustration. Just then he sat up eyes wide and arms raised as if preparing to shield himself from blows of an unseen enemy. "Dorothy," he gulped staring at her blankly. "Your dreams trouble you," she stated flatly, seating herself on the desk. "Yes. They do. Why am I having these memories? And what exactly am I supposed to find in this book?" He shut the Bible in sheer irritation and rested his head in his hands. "Big Ear said that everything in my life plays into what happened. But how could it? Paradigm lost its memories long before I was born." Dorothy was silent, and she stared blankly into space. Roger hoped she was preparing to help him unravel this mystery. "The logical thing is to begin by examining what vectors act on your life." "What?" "Well, since everything is linked to you somehow, examine what surrounds you. The immediate objects in your life, are myself, Norman, Big O, your clients, and your opposition." Roger rubbed at non-existent stubble on his chin. "The best place to begin is logically at the beginning," Dorothy stated calmly before vaulting from her seat on the desk and leaving the room as quietly as she had entered. Roger stared blankly at his note pad then began writing.

Allies came first: that was Dastun, Norman, and Dorothy. Opposition came next: Alex Rosewater was the head of the Paradigm Corporation. It was the heartbeat and gears of the city, yet always shady. He also hastily scrawled the name 'Angel' under that category, unsure what to make of her. Then of course there was Red Destiny. Next, he hastily began scrawling the names of his recent clients. Dorothy had given him direction but it hadn't revealed the clues he was hoping for. With a sigh he stood and went to shower and eat breakfast. Perhaps a fresh start would clear his head.

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Roger was once again seated at his desk. He had showered and shaved, and had quelled the angry growls of his stomach with a larger than usual breakfast. He stared in frustration at the yellow paper, which seemed to mock him. Dorothy once again let herself into his study and stared closely at the list of names. "Roger, has it occurred to you to include the actual enemies with which you did physical battle?" "Hmm?" Suddenly, he remembered he hadn't written down his Megadeus encounters. Quickly he scratched them next to the names of the clients, then gathered up the worn Bible and his notepad. "I'm going out Dorothy. I'll see you at dinner tonight." "Are you going to look for answers?" she called after him, but she received no response.

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He parked a few blocks from the Speakeasy, and secured the Griffon clutching the book and notepad under his arm. He had just rounded the last corner, when the glaring red and blue circles of lights on police cars stabbed his eyes. He could see crime scene tape roping off the Speakeasy, and what appeared to be the whole of Paradigm's police force crawling over the perimeter. "Fine day for a bust," he thought to himself moments before a hand grabbed his arm and he was pulled into an alley. "Hey!" His cry of protest went unnoticed over the den of the police investigation. His eyes adjusting to the darkness he found himself staring at a figure in a red hooded cape. His heart stopped as he remembered the ghostly voice chanting his name again and again as bullets whizzed past him. He was almost relieved when the hood fell back and he found himself staring at Angel. "You're too late to come looking here," she said curtly. "What?" Roger was still dazed from his unexpected exit from the street. "The man referred to as Big Ear was murdered here this morning." "What? Why?" Roger suddenly felt an impending sense of loss; his only easy source of information suddenly snuffed out. "He knew too much about certain things," Angel replied glibly, toying with her hair. "And you're looking for answers too, aren't you Roger Smith?" He suddenly felt a menace creeping over him and he chose his words carefully: "Perhaps. Isn't everybody looking for answers?" "Watch it." Her words were accented by a painful poke to the chest. "Remember who runs this city. Nobody in their right mind would go against Alex Rosewater." "But what did Big Ear do to Rosewater?" Angel shrugged. "Some secrets are better left kept. He was in a dangerous trade." "If any man have an ear, let him hear." "What?" Roger was surprised as Angel was. He had quoted the mysterious book Revelation, which he had been reading. Angel gave him a look like daggers of ice. "Be careful. If you play with fire you get burnt." With that she put her hood on and swept past him onto the street, and Roger casually wondered how long she had held the red balloon that now bounced on a string in her fingertips.