PART 5
"Are you kidding me?" Dastun looked up from his papers to address Roger, and frowned when he saw that he was trying to open the file cabinet. He cleared his throat loudly, and Roger stopped trying to snoop and turned his attention back to his old friend.
"The rumor is about her creator, Roger. Its hard to imagine she doesn't know something about it."
"Dorothy hasn't left home in days, Dastun, not since you told us Beck was out again."
"Yeah...sorry, we're still not having any luck finding him. He's pretty smart."
"Smart is not the word I'd use." Roger muttered. He grimaced slightly at the picture on Dastun's desk; the old picture from his days with the Military Police, before Dastun was a colonel, and before he was a Negotiator. "But anyhow, there's no way Dorothy could be connected to it."
"Are you sure?"
"What makes you so curios all of a sudden?" Now it was Roger's turn to be inquisitive. He turned his gaze onto Dastun, who closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair.
"I...saw someone near Wayneright and Solderno's graves the other day."
"What?"
"I tried to go after him, but he got away before I could do anything. I have a suspicion that someone connected to Dorothy is the one who left that wreck outside the Dome's." Roger remained silent, considering this for a moment. "By the way, Roger..." The Negotiator looked at Dastun. The colonel chuckled slightly, trying to play down the awkwardness of his next question. "You wouldn't happen to know if Dorothy is an only child, would you?"
There it was. The Police Station. He sat across the street in his car, watching from behind the steering wheel. He had watched Roger Smith go in there ten minutes ago. He knew about Smith's past with the Police, and it only furthered his disapproval of this man. Surely a man who quit the Military Police under such unusual circumstances could not take proper care of Dorothy.
He opened the door and got out. He walked slowly across the street, not caring about the honks of the horns of cars that stopped short to avoid hitting him. The Police Station loomed before him. He had to do something.
"My, my, a letter from Philip." Norman exclaimed. He held the envelope up, examining it before the light as if he could tell what the letter within said by seeing through it.
"Philip?" Dorothy said. She sat nearby, peeling potatoes. Norman had just stepped into the kitchen and begun sorting through the day's mail.
"Yes, Dorothy. Philip is my brother."
"I was unaware you had a brother."
"Yes. We have not spoken much over the past few years. I'm afraid we had a disagreement before I met Master Roger. He took a wife and home outside the Domes." Dorothy did not raise her head to Norman's story, though she was more interested than she showed. Norman began to open the envelope.
"Norman..."
"Yes, Dorothy?"
"The woman in the guest bedroom, how long do you think she will be staying?"
"I'm not sure, Dorothy. Her condition is most serious. She will likely be here for weeks. Does it bother you?"
"No, not at all." As Norman read his brother's letter, Dorothy began to peel a little harder, as if she were visualizing that it was not a potato she was peeling the skin off of...
"I am a friend of Roger Smith. I was told that he was here. May I see him please?"
The officer looked at the man before him. He could not make out his face very well, it was hidden behind a hood. His clothes were certainly odd; black khaki pants, a gray denim shirt, and a red cape and hood. He looked like something out of a fairy tale.
"Paradigm City's Top Negotiator is in a meeting with Colonel Dastun. If you'd like to wait till he's done, there's a bench right over there."
"I am afraid I must insist on seeing him now."
He grabbed the officer's collar, and with the simplest motion, tossed him across the room. He crashed into the wall with a loud thud, and fell unconscious to the floor.
"What was that?" Roger and Dastun both turned and looked at the closed door of Dastun's office, waiting for something else to happen. They did not have to wait long, for soon the sounds of a multitude of feet running, crashes, and men crying out filled their ears. Roger moved for the door when Dastun stopped him.
"Hold it Roger" Dastun said, placing a hand on Roger's shoulder. "You're a civilian in a Police Station. If you get hurt, it's our fault. We'll take care of this." Dastun stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him.
In the hall, Dastun saw officers scrambling to load their weapons. He stepped out into the main reception area. People were all on the ground; some were hunched behind desks, others were laying on the floor. One officer jumped to his feet and ran across the room, but was then flung back by a force far stronger than a man.
Dastuns' jaw dropped at the person who was slowly making his way across the room. He tossed any who tried to oppose his progress aside with the simplest movements. He picked a desks off the floor with one hand and tossed it across the room. It crashed into an officer who made a break for a door. He kicked a chair, and it screeched across the floor, knocking over and officer who tried to take aim with his pistol.
Dastun growled and charged. He was a large man, burly, and toughened by years of fighting with thugs and punks on the streets. So, it came as a considerable surprise to the seasoned officer when this attacker simply backhanded him away. He flew into the wall and lay prone on the floor. As the shape loomed over him, he scrambled to pull his gun from its holster at his side. But the moment he whipped it out and held it up, the pale hand of his attacker tore it from his grasp. He crushed it in his hand as if it were tin foil. Dastun could do nothing but gape.
"Hey you!" The attacker turned and was struck in the face by a fire extinguisher, wielded by Paradigm's Top Negotiator. This at least knocked this person off balance, and Roger landed several more blows. But it all proved to little effect; the stranger simply stood straight, a full head taller than Roger. Roger tried to press in with another hard strike, but found himself lifted up off his feet and dropped down onto one of the many desks that littered the room.
"Roger Smith..." a soft voice crooned above him. Roger looked up, and gasped at the pale features he saw below that hood. "You are not worthy of Dorothy." The attacked clapped his fists together, raising them above his head...
Dastun smashed a wooden chair across his back. It turned his attention onto the Colonel, who stood, his fists held up in a combat ready stance, though he already knew himself to be no match for this monstrosity. It reached out for him when several gunshots burst into the air.
The mysterious assailant leapt into the air, flipping over the heads of the scrambling officers, and landing gracefully at the entrance door. He frowned as he watched the dozens of officers standing up, cocking their weapons, ready to fight. He turned and bolted out.
"Stop that man!" Roger shouted, giving chase. But the stranger moved much faster than he could, and by the time Roger ran into the street, all that was left of this attacker was streaks of rubber on the pavement and the screech of a car tearing down the street.
"Who the hell was that?" Dastun said as he came up alongside Roger. Roger stood, panting for breath, his eyes narrowing as he stared down the street where the car had gone.
"I don't know. But I intend to find out."
"Are you kidding me?" Dastun looked up from his papers to address Roger, and frowned when he saw that he was trying to open the file cabinet. He cleared his throat loudly, and Roger stopped trying to snoop and turned his attention back to his old friend.
"The rumor is about her creator, Roger. Its hard to imagine she doesn't know something about it."
"Dorothy hasn't left home in days, Dastun, not since you told us Beck was out again."
"Yeah...sorry, we're still not having any luck finding him. He's pretty smart."
"Smart is not the word I'd use." Roger muttered. He grimaced slightly at the picture on Dastun's desk; the old picture from his days with the Military Police, before Dastun was a colonel, and before he was a Negotiator. "But anyhow, there's no way Dorothy could be connected to it."
"Are you sure?"
"What makes you so curios all of a sudden?" Now it was Roger's turn to be inquisitive. He turned his gaze onto Dastun, who closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair.
"I...saw someone near Wayneright and Solderno's graves the other day."
"What?"
"I tried to go after him, but he got away before I could do anything. I have a suspicion that someone connected to Dorothy is the one who left that wreck outside the Dome's." Roger remained silent, considering this for a moment. "By the way, Roger..." The Negotiator looked at Dastun. The colonel chuckled slightly, trying to play down the awkwardness of his next question. "You wouldn't happen to know if Dorothy is an only child, would you?"
There it was. The Police Station. He sat across the street in his car, watching from behind the steering wheel. He had watched Roger Smith go in there ten minutes ago. He knew about Smith's past with the Police, and it only furthered his disapproval of this man. Surely a man who quit the Military Police under such unusual circumstances could not take proper care of Dorothy.
He opened the door and got out. He walked slowly across the street, not caring about the honks of the horns of cars that stopped short to avoid hitting him. The Police Station loomed before him. He had to do something.
"My, my, a letter from Philip." Norman exclaimed. He held the envelope up, examining it before the light as if he could tell what the letter within said by seeing through it.
"Philip?" Dorothy said. She sat nearby, peeling potatoes. Norman had just stepped into the kitchen and begun sorting through the day's mail.
"Yes, Dorothy. Philip is my brother."
"I was unaware you had a brother."
"Yes. We have not spoken much over the past few years. I'm afraid we had a disagreement before I met Master Roger. He took a wife and home outside the Domes." Dorothy did not raise her head to Norman's story, though she was more interested than she showed. Norman began to open the envelope.
"Norman..."
"Yes, Dorothy?"
"The woman in the guest bedroom, how long do you think she will be staying?"
"I'm not sure, Dorothy. Her condition is most serious. She will likely be here for weeks. Does it bother you?"
"No, not at all." As Norman read his brother's letter, Dorothy began to peel a little harder, as if she were visualizing that it was not a potato she was peeling the skin off of...
"I am a friend of Roger Smith. I was told that he was here. May I see him please?"
The officer looked at the man before him. He could not make out his face very well, it was hidden behind a hood. His clothes were certainly odd; black khaki pants, a gray denim shirt, and a red cape and hood. He looked like something out of a fairy tale.
"Paradigm City's Top Negotiator is in a meeting with Colonel Dastun. If you'd like to wait till he's done, there's a bench right over there."
"I am afraid I must insist on seeing him now."
He grabbed the officer's collar, and with the simplest motion, tossed him across the room. He crashed into the wall with a loud thud, and fell unconscious to the floor.
"What was that?" Roger and Dastun both turned and looked at the closed door of Dastun's office, waiting for something else to happen. They did not have to wait long, for soon the sounds of a multitude of feet running, crashes, and men crying out filled their ears. Roger moved for the door when Dastun stopped him.
"Hold it Roger" Dastun said, placing a hand on Roger's shoulder. "You're a civilian in a Police Station. If you get hurt, it's our fault. We'll take care of this." Dastun stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him.
In the hall, Dastun saw officers scrambling to load their weapons. He stepped out into the main reception area. People were all on the ground; some were hunched behind desks, others were laying on the floor. One officer jumped to his feet and ran across the room, but was then flung back by a force far stronger than a man.
Dastuns' jaw dropped at the person who was slowly making his way across the room. He tossed any who tried to oppose his progress aside with the simplest movements. He picked a desks off the floor with one hand and tossed it across the room. It crashed into an officer who made a break for a door. He kicked a chair, and it screeched across the floor, knocking over and officer who tried to take aim with his pistol.
Dastun growled and charged. He was a large man, burly, and toughened by years of fighting with thugs and punks on the streets. So, it came as a considerable surprise to the seasoned officer when this attacker simply backhanded him away. He flew into the wall and lay prone on the floor. As the shape loomed over him, he scrambled to pull his gun from its holster at his side. But the moment he whipped it out and held it up, the pale hand of his attacker tore it from his grasp. He crushed it in his hand as if it were tin foil. Dastun could do nothing but gape.
"Hey you!" The attacker turned and was struck in the face by a fire extinguisher, wielded by Paradigm's Top Negotiator. This at least knocked this person off balance, and Roger landed several more blows. But it all proved to little effect; the stranger simply stood straight, a full head taller than Roger. Roger tried to press in with another hard strike, but found himself lifted up off his feet and dropped down onto one of the many desks that littered the room.
"Roger Smith..." a soft voice crooned above him. Roger looked up, and gasped at the pale features he saw below that hood. "You are not worthy of Dorothy." The attacked clapped his fists together, raising them above his head...
Dastun smashed a wooden chair across his back. It turned his attention onto the Colonel, who stood, his fists held up in a combat ready stance, though he already knew himself to be no match for this monstrosity. It reached out for him when several gunshots burst into the air.
The mysterious assailant leapt into the air, flipping over the heads of the scrambling officers, and landing gracefully at the entrance door. He frowned as he watched the dozens of officers standing up, cocking their weapons, ready to fight. He turned and bolted out.
"Stop that man!" Roger shouted, giving chase. But the stranger moved much faster than he could, and by the time Roger ran into the street, all that was left of this attacker was streaks of rubber on the pavement and the screech of a car tearing down the street.
"Who the hell was that?" Dastun said as he came up alongside Roger. Roger stood, panting for breath, his eyes narrowing as he stared down the street where the car had gone.
"I don't know. But I intend to find out."