"You want what?" Dorothy asked in dismay. Her singing voice was the one true beauty she possessed, and had been a cornerstone of her plans to win Roger Smith's heart.
"You have other means by which to win him," the Megadeus said. "You are graceful, loyal, patient, nurturing, loving, understanding, giving..."
Roger Smith would have accurately read the narrowing of Dorothy's eyes as a harbinger of an impending storm, but Big O was unperturbed by the display. "I don't believe Roger Smith is desirous of a mother-substitute," she snapped.
"Nonetheless, it is what I ask," the Megadeus said. "Give me your ability to sing, and I will grant your desire. You are of course free to continue to seek other means."
"I accept your terms," Dorothy said suddenly. "There are no other means, not with the ones who made me dead."
"Are you sure?" Big O asked. "You must understand that this will cause you pain--sometimes a great deal of pain, and once the change is complete, it cannot be undone. If you do not succeed, and he loves and marries another, you must surrender your memories to me." He wanted to analyze those memories carefully--perhaps this lucky accident could be duplicated.
"I am sure," she said. She was sure. At first she had thought her blossoming feelings for Roger Smith were the result of some instability in a capacitor, or perhaps a faulty memory trace. As time passed and her love for him only grew stronger, she was forced to re-evaluate her assumptions.
But this evaluation had led to a new set of dilemmas. Roger Smith was human, with human needs. When she had discovered that she was, in theory, able to fulfill those needs, but that the capacity had been blocked when she was built, she had been beside herself with rage. How could her father have done this to her? Did he not realize that one day she might wish to marry? Had he expected her be with him forever?
It had occurred to her that there was one person in Paradigm City who knew if it was possible to restore her. Late that night, when Roger had finally gone to bed, she had sneaked down to the hanger and asked Big O directly.
Relief that it could be repaired with some careful programming had given way to dismay when she had heard the price, but to be honest, she hadn't done any singing at Smith Mansion at all because of the memories it brought. To be unable to sing would be a setback, but the potential gain offered far more. That the Megadeus might take her memories did not worry her--if Roger loved and married another, she would be glad to be rid of them. "Do it," she said aloud.
If Big O heard the barely whispered "Before I change my mind," that came after, he gave no sign of it. An overwhelming rush of data brought Dorothy to her knees almost as soon as he sent the command.
She had no idea how long it lasted, but when the fog finally lifted, she found herself in her room, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Norman was already up and hard at work when she went downstairs. "Let me help you with that," she said, easily lifting the bucket filled with dirty water to the sink and emptying it.
"Ah, there you are, Miss Dorothy," he said. "Thank you." He asked no questions about her late start, for which she was grateful. By the time she went to wake Roger, it seemed it had been forgotten.