The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Cartoon Network, Sunrise, and Bandai Visual.
THE BIG O:
ACT 27
ROGER THE VIGILANTE
Chapter Four: Home Is Where The Hard Drive is.
"Big Fau is mine, Roger Smith the negotiator," Alex grinned as his hands clamped around Roger's throat. "Big Fau will always be mine and you cannot take him away!"
Spots obscured Roger's vision, but he could still see the skull like face of Alex Rosewater. The older man picked up Roger by the neck and dragged his back up the wall of Big Fau's cockpit where Dorothy's memory drive dangled by wires from an opening.
Alex Rosewater was a tall broad shouldered man in his early forties. His black hair was combed back in a widow's peak, exposing his receding hairline. Despite decades of good living as the only son of Paradigm's founder, Gordon Rosewater, the flesh on his face was thin over his skull, highlighting his cheekbones and making him resemble the grim reaper himself. Even his white, double-breasted suit seemed to be the shroud of a ghost instead of the raiment of a white knight. Of course, the slender, ropelike cables sticking out of his back to disappear into the floor under his chair made him seem like an undead phantom, or an albino spider.
Roger's hands grasped Rosewater's, his arms straining to loosen the unyielding grip that the Paradigm chairman had on his throat. He wished that he had a third hand so he could try something clever, but he needed both hands just to keep his windpipe from being crushed. Spots and flashes appeared before the negotiator's eyes, obscuring Alex's leering and predatory features.
"Roger!" Meanwhile, in the abandoned cockpit of Big O, R. Dorothy Wayneright spoke without changing her mannequin-like posture. Big O's sensors trained on the exposed cockpit of Big Fau, for the huge white megadeus had been nearly blown in half by, if Roger's memory was correct, a cannon produced by the Big O itself.
A number of cables snaked out from the base of Roger's empty chair to connect inside the cavity in Dorothy's head, providing the android with the minimum amount of random access memory that she needed to function. However, if she didn't use the extra RAM that Big O supplied, Big O would have access to the remaining memory that Dorothy's injured central processing unit still possessed.
"Big O," the android stated coldly while moving only her jaw. "It is Showtime." The open hatch slid down from the megadeus' head to protect the cockpit. "And action," she added.
Slowly, clumsily, the black megadeus's huge ungainly arms moved upward to reach for its white counterpart. Massive metal fingers fumbled for the cockpit of Big Fau. The opening into Big Fau's cockpit was too small for Dorothy to fit even one of Big O's gunmetal black digits inside, so she had the ebony megadeus seize the sides of the opening and slowly, carefully attempt to tear the opening larger.
Roger was beginning to black out. He could dimly feel his legs kicking at Alex Rosewater, but the rest of his body had gone numb. The interior of Big Fau's cockpit had become dark and the ringing in his ears had blocked out any other sounds.
Suddenly a loud noise exploded through the control room. It sounded like a piece of one of the domes had fallen and hit a building. Then came the twisting shriek of metal and the klaxons of alarms from Big Fau's control panel.
"What?" Alex Rosewater loosened his grip to glance at the opening that Roger had entered through. "Who? The black megadeus?" He released the gasping negotiator and sat back down at his control seat. "Roger Smith, I swear that there is only room in this city left for one of us!" Rosewater sneered at Big O's image on the screen.
Roger gasped for breath on the floor, his senses returning to him in the form of searing pain on different parts of his body. His back, neck and head seemed to be competing for who could cause the most mind-numbing, paralyzing, agony to the half-throttled negotiator. His lungs forced him to breathe, even though his ragged throat vigorously protested every breath.
'Get up' a voice that sounded like his told him. 'Get up, Smith. You are a dead man if you don't get up.'
Roger staggered to his feet and leaned against the back wall of the cockpit to get his bearings. It wasn't long before he discovered that it wasn't just his wobbly legs that made the floor seem so unstable. Big Fau was moving. It was in a wresting match with Big O; only there was no pilot to fight back!
"Die, Roger Smith!" Alex cackled. "There is only one domineus, and that is me!"
Alex Rosewater was ignoring him. He seemed to think that Roger was in the Big O. Roger tumbled off his feet when the white megadeus lurched again. He looked around for something to strike the insane chairman with, for he didn't trust the strength of his useless limbs to do the job.
The negotiator was distracted by what he saw on the screens. The white megadeus was causing Big O to lose his balance. Giant chains shot out of the black megadeus' hips and anchored in the ground in an attempt to steady it. Who was piloting it, anyway? Somehow, Big Fau was managing to overbear Roger's megadeus with one arm severed from its body.
On a screen near Rosewater's feet, a familiar face appeared. "Roger Smith," Dorothy uttered, looking like a teenage medusa with the cables sticking out of her head. "Save your self," she commanded calmly. "There is no point sacrificing yourself on my account. I am what I am."
Dorothy! In his injured state, he had forgotten why he had entered Big Fau's cockpit in the first place. Dorothy's main memory drive dangled from the compartment he had pried it from, still connected to Big Fau by a collection of wires.
He grasped the drive, and tried to pull the wires out of its jack. It was stuck, of course. That was okay. He adjusted his watch and activated a laser that shot out to sever the wires that led to into Big Fau, freeing Dorothy's drive immediately.
"What? No!" Alex Rosewater cried as lights and panels inside Big Fau went dead. In the center screen between his pedals, the words "CAST IN THE NAME OF GOD --- YE NOT…" scrolled by. "Not again!" Alex shouted. "What…what's happening to me? No…" Alex Rosewater's eyes shut and his chin rested on his chest.
What had happened to him? Was his nervous system connected to Big Fau? When Big Fau was shut off, did the same thing happen to Rosewater? Who knew? And right now, who cared? Alex Rosewater could be dead for all Roger cared. Right now, it served the maniac right.
He crawled out of the cockpit into Big O's waiting hand. Slowly, carefully, the massive hand carried him to Big O's open cockpit. He leaped into the control room and let the cover lower to conceal him from sight.
"Good job there, you guys," Roger said hoarsely. "We make a good team." Once in control of Big O, it was a simple matter for Roger to regain the black megadeus' balance and push Big Fau away. He almost knocked the white megadeus over, but decided instead to simply lower the stricken Big Fau on its back, in order to minimize the damage.
Despite the aches and pains his body reported, Roger glanced around the ruined city and smiled. Paradigm city looked like a collection of children's blocks scattered all as far as the eye could see. The buildings closest to him displayed signs of damage and should be condemned. Still, it beat a blank grid of lines stretching into the horizon any day. "Ah, Paradigm City, I love this town!" He coughed after those words, and decided to use his words sparingly. "Come on," he grunted. "It's time to go home."
Watching the black megadeus thunder away was Colonel Dan Dastun perched in the command chair of his armored vehicle. "Well I'll be," the smiled. "That son-of-a-gun did it! Good job, Roger!" He turned to his men who were in other tank-like armored vehicles. "We did it, men!" he announced raising his voice. "We bought the black megadeus the time it needed!"
As his men cheered, Dastun forced himself to think of the future. What now? He hadn't considered there being any afterwards to worry about, but he was going to be damned if he let the white megadeus tear apart Paradigm City, orders or no orders.
Now what? The orders to let the white megadeus wreak havoc had come from the top. There was no getting out of this. He could start a civil war with the men that were loyal to him and his sense of justice, or he could surrender and face the music. A civil war would destroy what was left of civilization. Dastun didn't think that humanity could take any more of this and survive. Not right now. That left surrender.
If only it was that easy. Dastun was willing to face prison, but the idea of his men's careers being cut short for having the integrity to do the right thing made his skin crawl. If that happened, the military police would be the crooked corporate muscle that Roger said it was. Civilization wouldn't be worth preserving then.
He needed a lawyer, or better yet, a negotiator that could go up against the board and save his men's careers. A smile crossed his craggy face. A negotiator? He had sacrificed his career in order to save the life of the best negotiator in Paradigm City! If there was one thing that Roger loved more than saving the city, it was sticking it to the Paradigm Corporation. If he worked fast, there may be a way out of this yet…
In the heart of the city, outside of the domes that protected the neighborhoods and estates of the rich, stood a spacious tower that was formerly a bank before the disaster that left Paradigm City without memories. Roger Smith had converted this building into his personal abode. The building was large enough to hide the Big O inside. It was built over the nexus of the underground transportation system that Paradigm had enjoyed until four decades ago. The suites at the top floor were decorated like a Victorian mansion, the roof was a patio that had tasteful sculpture and a garden.
One side of the building had been defaced by the damage Beck's robots had caused during Dorothy's abduction. The roof patio was a mess. Still, the damage was all superficial, as far as Roger was concerned. His butler, Norman Burg, had survived and the damage to his belongings could be repaired or replaced.
One wound refused to heal, though. Dorothy Wayneright was still injured. For the moment, he let her remain in Big O's cockpit. While hooked up to the megadeus, she seemed to have regained most of her functions. In on a worktable, the tall and slender Norman Burg peered at Dorothy's recovered components through a jeweler's eyepiece.
"Fascinating, Master Roger," the elderly butler remarked, then removed the eyepiece from his single remaining eye. "This device is more sophisticated that it seems. I had hoped that swapping her memory drive would be easy once we uploaded her memory to the new hardware, but it looks as if we would lose more of her memory than we'd want to."
"We're going to restore her to mint condition," Roger announced grimly. "She's going to be operating at hundred percent efficiency with all of her memory and everything that is Dorothy Wayneright restored to normal."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but how are we going to do that?" Norman asked as delicately as he could.
"Simple," Roger smiled without mirth. "We're going to do what everybody does in this city when they want something done right. We're going to procure the services of an expert."
Hope began to flicker in the butler's eye. "Oh, I say! I hadn't thought of that. Did you have a particular expert in mind, sir?"
"Why yes," Roger replied. "I did. There is one person in the city who knows about androids and megadeuses almost as much as the late Timothy Wayneright."
"Oh, that is a stroke of luck for us, Master Roger," Norman smiled in a grandfatherly fashion as his voice betrayed a hint of amusement. "Who is this wayward genius, if I may be so bold, sir?"
"Wayward is only the icing on the cake, Norman," Roger grinned through gritted teeth. "You'll notice that I said 'expert' and not 'professional'. The expert that I have in mind probably hasn't held down an honest job in his life."
Amusement left the butler's voice to be replaced with concern. "Oh no, Master Roger, you can't mean…"
"I do," Roger nodded. "There is no one else. If we want to repair Dorothy properly, we are going to have find Jason Beck."
On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Norman's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:
Next: Have a Drink