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 Six: Questions Unasked

Roger Smith put on the body armor, and flexed his muscles to see how much mobility he would lose when wearing it. Too much, he decided, but he would have to make compromises somewhere. Lighter than a twentieth century flak jacket, the bullet proof vest that covered his torso was composed of a layer of disks bound in sturdy and heat resistant synthetic black fabric like medieval scale mail. Rather than being forged out of metal, the silver dollar sized disks were composed of a silicon carbide ceramic. The result was a flexible vest that allowed a greater range of motion while still providing more protection than ballistic nylon and heavy ceramic plates.

The vest worked great. He could move like an acrobat if he wanted. It was the arm and leg protection that was slowing him down, and would be nearly impossible to wear under his normal clothing. Perhaps he would have to go without protection on his limbs, but the memory of the bullet Dorothy's homicidal twin put through his arm a few months ago didn't make that option attractive.

Roger sighed as he removed the elbow protection and considered his options. The problem was, he decided, that a negotiation with Beck required him to go against his normal style of diplomacy. Normally, a negotiation required a measure of trust from both parties. In this case, there would be no trust at all. Beck was so crooked that he met himself going around corners and Roger's white-hot anger at the blond crook threatened to jeopardize his objective.

Only a fool negotiates for himself. Roger was too close to maintain a professional façade of objectivity. In addition, as a negotiator, he considered it a last resort to use force. In this case, the use of force was a guaranteed necessity. He was being pressured by circumstance to abandon his sense of style and adopt Jason Beck's: threats and coercion. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

It took all of the negotiator's willpower to slow himself down and think things through. After his first encounter with Beck, the wily criminal had shown an uncanny ability to predict Roger's moves. He couldn't afford to be predictable. Beck was too good at laying traps that Roger fell into. This time he had to trap Beck, not the other way around.

In addition, after the bizarre visions that he experienced while fighting Big Fau, the mysteries of Paradigm City became harder to ignore. Roger Smith's personal policy was to let mind shattering mysteries remain unsolved. Otherwise he would spend all of his time chasing after answers that were irrelevant to his daily life.

When it came to finding the answers to questions that shouldn't be asked, Roger couldn't help but think of Swartzwald. Michael Seebach had been a successful reporter, living inside the domes with a wife and kids. The journalist's personal quest to unearth the truth to the mystery that was Paradigm City had driven the reporter mad, leading him to eventually destroy his identity of Michael Seebach and call himself Swartzwald, after a mythical forest in a far off land. Swartzwald didn't know when to stop digging, and it cost him his identity, his sanity and finally his life.

Now, with visions of barcodes, megadeuses destroying cities, and children with shaved heads staring into fires swimming in his head it was easy to surrender sanity and devote oneself to the never-ending search for the Truth. For his sake and the sake of Dorothy Wayneright, he had to fight the temptation and keep himself focused.

Still, it was hard. The biggest mysteries in Paradigm City were right under his roof. Big O and R. Dorothy Wayneright herself. He couldn't resist the temptation to visit them.

He waited until Norman was preparing dinner. Big O was still in various stages of disassembly, and would be unable to fight for sometime unless a lot of man-hours were put into repairs. Roger sighed. It was depressing to see the black megadeus in such a vulnerable state like that. He felt that he had failed the giant robot somehow. Like Dorothy Wayneright, Big O had sacrificed so much for Roger Smith and now look what he had to show for it.

Roger looked up at the giant megadeus and spoke. "I'd like to apologize, old friend," he began, "Lately it seems that the challenges facing us have been getting harder and harder. But we both know that's not exactly true, is it? Sure the battles have been tough, but we should have done better shouldn't we? You shouldn't have gotten injured as much as you have."

Roger put his hands in his pockets and his eyes fell down to his shoes. "The truth is, you've been doing fine, Big O. The fights aren't any tougher than they used to be. They were always tough. The problem is human error. I've been slipping. Something has made me lose my edge, and you've been paying for it. I'm sorry. I'm going to focus. I'm going to pull myself together and get us through what lies ahead." Roger looked up at Big O's impassive face and clenched his fists. "You deserve better."

The black megadeus seemed to have an empathic link with Roger. Indeed, Roger suspected that it was Big O's telepathic ability that allowed Dorothy to function without her main memory: Big O had somehow provided his random access memory to the stricken android and that had allowed Dorothy to rescue Roger when Big Fau had hurled Big O and his pilot into the sea. So it came to no surprise that he sensed a response from the black megadeus. He was simply unprepared for the emotion he was sensing.

Roger expected forgiveness, or anger, or even grudging acceptance. He did not expect guilt, guilt so strong that it might have been grief. He could sense that Big O was trying to hide his emotions, so ashamed was the machine that was robot, weapon, warrior, and vehicle. Roger had just apologized for failing the Big O. The megadeus seemed to think the opposite was true, that he had somehow failed Roger, or hurt him somehow.

It didn't make any sense. The Big O had failed Roger? The megadeus was trying to hide its emotions from the negotiator? How hard is it for an immobile machine with an impassive expression sculpted on its face to hide an emotion? What could Big O have possibly done to hurt Roger Smith?

Perhaps the negotiator was simply projecting his emotions onto the giant robot. Perhaps Big O's shame was all in his mind, or while the megadeus was dormant whatever circuits were used to project his emotions simply reflected that of the pilot. Maybe Dorothy's condition was affecting Big O, and not just Norman and Roger. Maybe Roger was losing his mind.

In any case, it beat visions of barcodes and tomatoes, so the negotiator decided to take 'yes' for an answer.

Dorothy was still in Big O's cockpit standing like a sentry behind Roger's chair. Despite being hooked up to the black megadeus, she didn't seem lifelike. If anything, she seemed even less alive than she did when Roger entered Big Fau. Perhaps there was no need for Big O to donate his random access memory to the android girl while Roger's life was not in danger.

Could she still speak? Would Big O allow her to now that it wasn't an emergency? If Roger asked her the questions on his mind, would Dorothy be able to access the answers without her main memory restored to her metal and polycarbide skull? Would she be able to lie, or would she be forced to reveal the entire unvarnished truth to Roger's questions? Would her answers be hers or Big O's?

He wanted to know what she meant when she said that she wasn't like him. He wanted to know why she hadn't resisted her abduction by Beck's scorpion robots when she knew that she would be dissembled and used as a control circuit for an engine of mass destruction. He wanted to know if she was capable of love and if she loved him. Did she make decisions like a human being or were there an assortment of preprogrammed directives that made her who she was?

Suddenly, the negotiator felt very dirty. He was taking advantage of her vulnerability. If her disassembled state didn't allow her to conceal the truth, this would be an unforgivable invasion of her privacy. Jason Beck had committed numerous violations on the android in the past. No matter how low Roger had to sink to restore Dorothy Wayneright, he couldn't allow himself to do the same. The questions he had for Dorothy could wait until she was able to choose whether to answer them or evade them.

Still, here he was, facing the mannequin that was R Dorothy Wayneright. He felt like a fool as he stared into her empty eyes. He had to say something. "Dorothy, I don't know if you can hear me. I'm sorry that I put you in danger..." No. That was stupid. She was at the Smith Mansion when Beck's scorpion robots attacked. It wasn't as if he carelessly put her in harm's way. In addition, the mansion's security system was formidable, and Norman was there too. There was no need to blame himself. It wasn't as if he had a lot of forewarning about the attack on his mansion, and he had honestly believed that Dorothy was safe there.

The problem was that in the middle of the attack, Dorothy simply gave up, and let the scorpion robots abduct her. It didn't make any sense. She could have evaded capture or used her android strength to break free once trapped in the metal pincers. What did she mean 'I am not like you; I am not like other robots'? It was if she had just resigned herself to her doom.

If she was that weak willed, how did she manage to reanimate herself when Roger was in trouble? Her main memory was gone! Was it Big O pulling her strings? If so, why didn't the black megadeus force Dorothy to resist when she was being kidnapped? Big O had moved to protect Dorothy without Roger's guidance, so he was perfectly aware of the android's predicament. Too many questions. Small wonder that Michael Seebach went crazy.

Roger had decided moments ago not to ask any questions, but his temper got the better of him. "Damn it, Dorothy! Why did you let yourself get captured? If you would have resisted you wouldn't be in this fix! How could you just give up?"

Dorothy's quiet voice seemed as loud as a thunderbolt to Roger's ears. "I am not like you."

Roger took a step back and blinked away the salty tears that were stinging his eyes. Was he actually crying? He thought that he had closed his heart better than that. Even in her stricken state, the redheaded android had managed to get under his skin.

The negotiator rubbed his eyes and made exaggerated sniffing noises. He drew himself up to his full height and took a deep breath to regain his composure. All Dorothy needs is to see the indestructible Roger Smith bawl like a baby, he grumbled to himself sarcastically. He looked down at the slender girl. She was still staring straight ahead as if she hadn't spoken at all. Roger sighed. He couldn't resist the temptation. "What do you mean, you aren't like me?"

"I am not like other androids," she stated flatly, not moving a single part that was not necessary for speech. "I am not like you."

"What does that have to do with...?" He stopped himself and looked away. "I'm sorry, Dorothy. I'm out of line. I have no right to ask you anything while you're in this state."

To Roger's surprise, the lights in Big O's cockpit lit up. He felt the giant robot activate itself, and instinctively prepared for movement. A light from the main screen between the foot pedals attracted his attention. Roger was momentarily surprised the message on the screen: Ye Not Guilty. The broad-shouldered negotiator allowed himself to relax as Big O deactivated his systems, one by one.

Roger chuckled bitterly. "Ye not guilty," he muttered as he shook his head. "You're telling me I shouldn't feel guilty, aren't you?" he announced in the ceiling's direction. "You're saying it's not my fault. I'm only human. Thanks, Big O. Back at'cha."

Despite himself, he felt better. If anyone could understand R Dorothy Wayneright, it would be the megadeus that has wires hooked up connecting their central processing units. Was the megadeus giving him permission to ask Dorothy questions, or was it telling him that no questions were needed?

Roger clasped one of Dorothy's tiny hands in his. "You're more than just an android, Dorothy. Never forget that."

She didn't respond of course. How could she? Until her main memory was restored it was possible that she was less than just an android. Roger defiantly clung to the feeling of confidence as he left Big O's cockpit to look for Norman.

At dinnertime, Roger assured Norman that his wry sense of humor had returned. "Dorothy sure is a pain in the butt, isn't she?" he quipped.

Rather than be offended, Norman Burg decided to share in the forced levity.

"Indeed, sir. May I inquire what trouble our young lady has managed to get herself in this time?"

"How does she do it, Norman?" Roger smiled. "How does that ill-tempered, unfeeling android get us to care so much? How does that heartless lump of metal get to be so loveable?"

"Ah," Norman nodded sagely. "It is easy to understand when one considers her primary function."

"Her primary function?" Roger blinked as his butler refilled his wine glass. "Since when does Dorothy have a primary function? I thought that all she was meant to do was exist."

"Ah, perhaps I misspoke," the butler replied mischievous innocence. "I merely meant that the fact that Dorothy is loveable is only to be expected in light of the reason she was created."

"Doctor Wayneright created her to be a replacement for his long-lost daughter," Roger offered, but still felt that he was being a bit thick. Norman's point was apparently too obvious to notice.

"Yes, he recreated his daughter," Norman agreed. "But why, Master Roger? Why create a robot daughter? Why have a flesh and blood one for that matter? What purpose does she serve?"

Having never had children himself, Roger couldn't help but feel out of his depth. "Purpose? Children don't have a purpose, do they Norman? They just… are… aren't they?"

"Ask any parent and they will tell you what a daughter's purpose is," Norman spoke gently, as if speaking to a dearly loved but slightly slow child. "The purpose of a daughter is to be loved."

That revelation stopped Roger cold.

Norman continued as if he was discussing the weather. "So naturally, anyone who gets to know Miss Dorothy, loves her. Quite simple, when you think about it. Dorothy is a bundle of contradictions because daughters are bundles of contradictions. Dorothy is lovable, because daughters are meant to be loved."

"Dorothy is a person… because daughters are people… by definition," Roger muttered to himself.

"Exactly, Master Roger," the butler beamed proudly. "I knew you'd see it."

Roger never stopped marveling at accomplishment of the late Timothy Wayneright. "Norman, have you… got a handkerchief? I think there's something in my eye…"

"Of course sir," the butler replied as he handed a folded white handkerchief to his employer. "I always keep them handy."

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Norman's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

Next: I Own The Night