Of Angels And Androids

Of Angels And Androids

        Norman passed by Roger's room and looked at the two figures inside.  Dorothy sat upon the bed, her white hands holding Roger's head in her lap.  The bed sagged-in from her weight.  She sat motionless, a perfectly carved, beautiful and sad statue.  Norman was reminded of the statues that honored the graves of heroes from the forgotten past.  Dorothy's perpetual sad expression was the same as ever.  But now… it seemed appropriate.  She looked upon Roger's pale face with unblinking eyes.  Roger grimaced, but his eyes remained closed.  The statue came to life then.  Her coldness dismayed by warm caresses.  Her stillness dispelled by a soft voice.

        "Roger.  Roger Smith."  Such tenderness in those words.  Yet, they made Roger thrash about more, as if in panic.  He said things that Norman did not understand.

        "No!  Red Destiny!  I've got to get away!"  Dorothy continued speaking to him.

        "Roger, it's me, Dorothy.  Dorothy Wayneright.  You are at home now."

Roger quieted down, but sweat appeared on his face.  Dorothy touched Roger's cheek.  In a small voice, she said:

        "Roger, it's past noon.  You need to wake up.  Norman has breakfast all ready.  Your eggs are getting cold……  "  Norman felt tears in his eyes.  Roger had always hated being woken up at noon.   But he never realized why Dorothy really did it.  And Norman thought Dorothy herself probably did not know.  It was clear she woke Roger up at noon to tease him, but Norman thought she also did it simply because she wanted to see him.

        "Miss Dorothy, I can watch Roger now.  You need to rest."  Norman realized the foolishness of saying such a thing to an android, but Norman gave Miss Dorothy all the respect and concern he would give to a human being.  Dorothy was not startled by Norman's intrusion.  She had heard his footsteps, probably while he was still downstairs.  Her voice gained some of its usual matter-of-factness.

        "Norman.  I need neither rest nor concern.  I am better suited to the task than you.  I am able to monitor Rogers condition far better than you could."

        "Yes, Miss Dorothy."  Her head bowed, shadowing her face. 

        "Norman, I do not think Roger will be eating dinner tonight."  Again the old man felt tears coming to his eyes.

        "I shall prepare it, anyways --  just in case."

        "Yes, Norman, that would be perfectly fine."

        Norman closed the door, watching the girl.  She had once again become still.  He wondered what she was thinking.  Before, Norman would see Dorothy standing outside at her usual spot on the balcony, looking off in the distance.  He had wondered then what she thought about.  He had asked her once.  She had said:  "I think about myself.   I go over my memories.  Sometimes I like going back and seeing my father."  And then Norman had understood a little of what it was like to be an android.  Dorothy could actually re-live past events.  With her perfect recall, Dorothy could do what no human being could do.  She could literally play-back every moment, and if she so chose to, live in the past.  Norman wondered now if Dorothy was going back and re-living happier times she had spent with Roger.  But her memory was both blessing and curse.  She could re-live the good times, but she could never forget the bad.  How fortunate that humans could do so:  forgetfulness providing escape from our most horrible mistakes; forgetfulness forgiving our sins, even when we could not.  Was that why they had caused everyone to forget forty years ago? 

Norman hoped that Dorothy wasn't re-living the terrible events of the last few days, analyzing her every action, wondering if she could have done things differently, acting as a human might, but remembering only as an android could. 

Norman cared for Dorothy and Roger, doted on them because they were like the children he was sure he had lost forty years ago.  But he respected them and loved them because they were both brave, courageous people who had never learned to fear the truth, unlike so many others who lived in this city.  For very different reasons, these two young people believed it was far better to tell the truth, then to please people with lies.  Roger grew up in a world of lies just like every other child in Paradigm.  But somehow Roger was different.  He became disgusted by what he saw.  Dorothy was simply innocent, her lack of human contact isolated her from the corruption that all human children eventually succumbed to.

        Norman had instantly taken a liking to Dorothy.  He somehow knew that she belonged with them.  Well, really that she belonged with Roger.  Roger knew many women.  But Roger never had any serious relationships. To everyone in Paradigm, it seemed as though Roger was simply a rich playboy.  But Norman understood why Roger was so aloof.  Roger could never get close to anyone, because he worried that they might someday be put in harm's way because of him.  Roger was a gentleman.  He would not love anyone, if it meant putting their life in danger.  There was a reason why

Norman and Dastun were Roger's only friends.  Anyone who Roger became close to had better be able to take care of himself.  Roger could not afford to have someone hurt because of him, or have himself become vulnerable because of his feelings for them. That's why Norman had immediately realized the usefulness of Dorothy.  She was one of the few people in Paradigm who could work for Roger, and not worry about the risks involved.  Even more so than Dastun and Norman, Dorothy was capable of taking care of

herself.  Roger needn't worry about her.  And yet… it was Dorothy who Roger worried the most about.  Norman smiled – the first in days.  If only Roger and Dorothy had had more time together....

        A dark figure moved in the hallway.  Its shadow turning afternoon sun into monsters on the wall.

        "Miss Cassey Jenkkins, it is customary to 'knock.'"  The beautiful woman moved towards Roger's bedroom door.  She looked at Norman with a critical eye.

        "Hello.  Its Norman, isn't it?  You can call me Angel."

        "Angel of Death perhaps..."  Norman said softly to himself.  Angel smiled tightly and made a small curtsy.

        "I'm here to see Roger".

        "Some other time. Roger is indisposed."  Norman moved between Angel and the door.  Angel seemed surprised.

        "Don't you think I know that!  I can help him.  Please get out of my way."  Angel drew a small hand-gun.  Norman non-chalantly karate-chopped Angel's wrist, knocking the gun to the floor.  Angel again looked surprised.  But briefly.  With amazing dexterity, she back-flipped away from Norman, putting space in between them.  Norman had to step back to dodge the flying kicks that came close to his head.  Norman and Angel looked at each other, each with a new-found warinesss of the other.  Angel smiled her beautiful smile.

        "Well, now we know were both professionals.  Oh, you don't fool me, Norman.  We haven't forgotten about you either.  But Angel isn't here for you today.  I'm here to help Roger.  You have my gun.  I'm unarmed.  I'm no threat to Roger."  Norman chuckled.

        "Miss Jenkins.  Unarmed, you are one of the most dangerous people in Paradigm.  I am not deceived by you, nor is Master Roger.  But I shall allow you to see him." 

        Angel was surprised:  Norman had allowed her to see Roger -- without more convincing.  She was glad that she didn't have to fight Norman, that wasn't her style.

Besides, it wasn't Norman's time yet.  But she ruefully thought:  "You shoulda put up a fight, old man.  You made it too easy."  Casually walking into the room, she stopped when she saw Roger.  He looked worse than she had anticipated.  He looked so pale.  Blood loss, she surmised.  She wished she had gotten here sooner; it might be too late.  She had been so focused on Roger, she only now registered the young girl holding his head in her lap.  And she realized then what a costly mistake it might be.  Her mind screamed at what she beheld:  Red Destiny!?  What was she doing here?!   Angel shivered.  Norman had misnamed her:  This was the Angel of Death that no man could stop.  Angel caught herself.  No, it couldn't be.  RD would have destroyed Roger, rather than holding him so dearly.  This must be Dorothy, the first android made from the blueprints she had stolen from that fool Wayneright.  Still, Angel was wary now, even more so than when she had faced Norman.  She well-knew the capabilites of this android. Although Dorothy wore no blood red cloak, she could be just as deadly as RD.  This is why Norman had so casually allowed her to pass.  Angel put a good deal of space between herself and Dorothy.  She glanced at the window and door, judging that she could make it to either before the android.

"How is Roger?"  Forcing calmness, she knew that panic would be death.  The android made no reply.  

"You can talk, can't you, android."  Angel was worried.  The silence scared her:  Assasins moved in silence.  Angel's nerve began to break.

"Say something!"  She needed to hear Dorothy talk.  Needed to know if this android was affected by the same killer-insanity that RD had.

            "Miss Jenkins, do you know what love is."  The soft-voice was so much like RD's.  Yet without the remorseless ferocity, but with the same intensity.  Angel was taken aback.  She had not expected this question. This was a day of surprises.

"Call me Angel."  Angel deigned a reply to the android's question.  "Love is obeying someone and doing what they wish.  How's that?"

"Then do you love Alex Rosewater?"

"No!"  Angel exclaimed before she could even think.  "That's not what meant."  The android looked at her intently.

            "Love?  You really don't know, do you."  The android said with such certainty.  Angel became angry.  What was an android doing, criticizing her?  Telling her about emotions!  Angel's hand raised back of its own volition.

            "You'll only hurt yourself."  Dorothy said, in a tone sounding as though she did not really care.  Angel raged, her hands clawing the air.  She had to hurt this thing, and there was only one way how.

"Look, you might look like one of us, you might sound like one of us, but you will NEVER, EVER be human!  Get that through your mechanical mind!  Enough of this."  Angel took out a small, gold pen.  Dorothy immediately recognized it.  It was the same one Beck carried.  Angel twisted the top.  This android was dangerous, but she knew its weaknesses and was prepared.  Dorothy became still.

"Stupid android.  You think he's yours.  Roger belongs to Paradigm.  He belongs to me.  What do you know about love?  What does that have to do with anything?"  Angel moved to take Roger from Dorothy's lap.  Ever cautious, Angel jumped back expertly, hands in ready position, when Dorothy spoke.

            "Roger doesn't belong to me.  Or anyone.  People aren't belongings.  Things are.  People are free to make their own choice."  Dorothy glanced at Angel's useless golden pen, then looked again at the golden-haired woman.  "Even androids can.  That's what Roger believed.  Angel, you can choose too.  There is no gold pen controlling you..."  She looked in askance at Angel.  The blonde woman made no reply.  Dorothy spoke again. 

"Roger will stay here.  When he wakes up, I'll tell him Alex Rosewater would like to see him."         

"Will you tell him I was here?"  Angel asked plaintively.  It was Dorothy's turn to give no reply.  For some reason Angel suddenly said:

"Please, let me just touch him."  The two women looked at each other across the room.  And for a brief moment the machine girl and flesh-and-blood woman understood one another.

"I know you could break my arm in an instant, if I tried anything.  You know I won't."  Angel walked to Roger's side. She was momentarily annoyed:  The android would hear everything.

"I don't suppose we can have some privacy?"  Dorothy was silent.  Angel noted the android's wrinkled black dress, the dust in her hair, how the metal bed-frame had been warped by the android's weight.  "You won't leave him, will you?"  Silence.  Angel

laughed in a surprisingly low voice.  "How melodramatic."  Moments passed with no reply.  It gave Angel a chance to stop and think.  It was suicidal to goad an android.  What was she doing?  How could a thing make her so mad?  A noise shook her out of her reverie.  She moved closer to Roger.  Vexed, she realized that she could not touch his face without also touching the android's hands.  So Angel put her small, delicate hand over Roger's instead.  She gasped at how cold it was.  Was Roger dea....?  She was surprised that she could not say that about him.  No, he was alive.  He must be.  The android could easily monitor Roger's vital signs; the android would know exactly when Roger's heart stopped.  Angel shuddered.  They would not be guarding him, unless he was alive.  Finally Angel spoke to Roger.

            "Oh Roger.  It wasn't supposed to be this way.  I truly am sorry.  I tried to warn you.  Why didn't you listen... Roger, I....  I...."   Dorothy spoke.

                    "Norman, Angel will be leaving now."  Angel grinned.  It was her first genuine smile of the day.

                    "Maybe you are a woman after all.  I'll call you Dorothy from now on."  Angel did not need to be convinced to leave.  She calmly sauntered out the door, seemingly victorious even in defeat.  She turned her head and flashed her winning smile.

                    "Dorothy, I'll drop by when Roger's well.  Take care of him for me."

She blew Roger a kiss and then winked at Dorothy.  "Ciao!"

Epilogue

        Angel closed the door behind her.  As she was about to leave, she heard something from the other side of the door that caught her breath.  Tears welled in her eyes.  She started to sob uncontrollably, and she did not care if the other woman heard her.

        Norman was surprised to see the strong, blonde woman, curled up, hugging her knees, crying softly outside the door.  He heard a sound that passed him like a ghost and echoed sadly down the long hallway.  Moved by compassion for the woman, he said:  "I'll wait for you downstairs, Miss Jenkins."

                             

Dorothy did not even glance up as the other woman left.  She took some rubbing alcohol from the nearby coffee table and dabbed at the hand that Angel had touched.  It was getting late.  She hoped Roger would wake up so that they could have dinner with Norman.  Not understanding why, she smoothed Roger's ruffled hair.  He had always been so foolishly vain about it, she thought. 

Knowing no other way to express how she felt, Dorothy started to sing quietly to Roger.

Fin