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 Twelve: Stand in the Rain Without An Umbrella.

Roger Smith was on his back, stunned and reeling while gazing up at Dorothy Wayneright. One by one his senses returned to him. Dorothy was standing on the catwalk that crossed Big O's hangar, staring straight ahead, her eyes and mouth wide open. A high-pitched shriek chilled his spine, a scream that seemed to tear through the air itself until Dorothy closed her mouth and turned to stiffly walk along the catwalk and out of the chamber.

Roger's other senses kicked in about then. His body registered aches and pains, including a massive headache and a sore back. His hip hurt too. So did his stomach and his jaw. Come to think of it, it was hard to find a part of his body that didn't hurt in some way.

His sense of taste was not rewarding, for his mouth tasted like a combination of bile and cotton, with a tiny hint of blood for good measure.

He decided to concentrate on his vision. He was off the catwalk but easily forty feet off the floor of the hangar. How was this possible? His pain told him that he was not having an out-of-body experience. Each hurt and ding told him in excruciating detail that his body was present and that he was still alive. He was lying on a hard, cold surface.

Against his body's better judgment, Roger sat up to survey his surroundings and assess his damages. He was surprised to see five massive dark gunmetal digits arranged around him. He was lying in Big O's hand!

"Big O?" Roger mumbled, as he rose drunkenly to his feet. Nothing was broken, but tomorrow his bruises would make his skin look like a newspaper. His eyes travelled up the megadeus' arm that had extended under the catwalk to catch him to the impassive face of the Big O. "You saved me?" Roger murmured in disbelief. "You moved by yourself? Again?"

As if in response, the red collar of the black megadeus rose to obscure Big O's face and reveal the tall gangly form of Norman Burg at the controls. "Master Roger!" the butler exclaimed. "Are you all right? You took a nasty spill there, sir. I was afraid you were hurt."

"I'm fine," Roger assured him. "Just had the wind knocked out of me. What are you doing in there?"

The butler shrugged. "With a homicidal android on the loose, this seemed to be the safest place."

"Of course," Roger rubbed the back of his neck. "How long was I out?"

"Out?" Norman frowned. "I didn't realize you had lost consciousness. I presumed that you were merely remaining still until Miss Dorothy left."

Roger chuckled. "It's a good thing that Dorothy didn't look down. I was barely ten feet away from her. She didn't look behind her either, or she would have noticed that Big O's arm moved."

Norman didn't seem as amused. "Yes, that is rather fortunate, Master Roger. I'm afraid that Miss Dorothy is in a world all her own."

Roger frowned. "No, she's in Red Destiny's world. A world that Alex Rosewater used to drive one android crazy and now Dorothy's sanity is at risk as well." He searched his pockets and then pulled a flat rectangular component out of his jacket. "It's not broken," he sighed in relief. He held it up in front of him as Norman worked the joystick to make Big O bring Roger up to the cockpit. "Here," the negotiator said as he handed the apparatus to his butler, "put Dorothy's memory drive in a safe place. I'm going to save Dorothy!"

"And Mr. Beck, too sir," Norman added.

Roger inhaled a deep breath and sighed. "I suppose that can't be helped."

It was a dark and stormy night. During the time that Beck had been working on Dorothy, the weather had gotten steadily worse. Black clouds enveloped the sky in darkness, and the jagged forks of lighting that briefly illuminated the city ensured that no one's eyes would be able to adjust to the gloom.

On the rooftop patio of the white tower that was the Smith mansion, a blond man in a yellow double-breasted suit was fiddling with a wristwatch.

Thunderstorms didn't scare Jason Beck, even after he was struck by lightning. Okay, thunderstorms didn't scare him very much. Beck was talking to himself to steady his nerves. In any case, he wasn't going to let a little bad weather cancel his plan to rappel to safety and out of the madhouse that Roger Smith called home.

"Come on," he growled. "Work, damn it! Where's the Smith-rope? I don't want the laser, and the car is worthless to me up here! Why doesn't it…" His voice trailed off when a miniature grappling hook attached to a slender cord emerged from the watch. "All right! Finally! Now to fasten it real good here…" He looped the cord around a pillar and used the grappling hook to secure it. "Time to go!" He walked over to the stone railing that separated the rooftop patio from the edge of the building. "Eeyah!" the felon cried as he staggered backwards.

A bolt of lightning illuminated the deathly white face of a teenage girl standing on the railing. She was clad only in a grey skintight wetsuit that emphasized her lithe and delicate form. Her red hair was in bangs, a black barrette concealing the memory drive of an android programmed to kill. Her dark emotionless eyes stared at him without blinking.

"You!" Beck shouted. "You don't want me! You want Roger!"

"Roger is dead, Jason Beck," the girl told him in a sad voice. "I killed him."

"N-no way!" Beck nervously chuckled. "You couldn't have killed Smith. I've tried that myself. There's no way…"

"He is dead," Dorothy told him. "I killed him. As I will now kill you."

The matter-of-fact tone combined with the android's morbid statement made Beck freeze, just for a moment. A flash of lightning blinded him as the android girl leaped down and closed the distance between them. Her hand shot out and grasped the tall lanky crook by his shoulder. She pulled him up onto the stone railing to stand with her.

"Yah!" Beck screamed as the girl's vice-like grip pulled him off his feet.

"I can fulfill my directives and ensure that neither one of us endangers anyone ever again," Dorothy said as her arms encircled the struggling criminal. "I will jump and take you with me. My additional weight has an excellent chance of wrenching your hand loose from that watch and if not, I can always undo the band. The fall should kill us both. That way, neither one of us will be responsible for any more deaths. I'm sorry, Jason Beck."

The struggling criminal couldn't protest with Dorothy hugging him so tight. To be honest it was hard for him to breathe. He felt his legs swing freely in the air as Dorothy turned to face the city and held him over the drop.

Just then the patio lights came on. "Dorothy!" A familiar voice shouted behind her. "Wait! What are you doing?"

"Ah!" The android's eyes opened in shock as she released her captive.

Beck fell over four stories before he was able to scream. Less than halfway down the building, the crook came to an abrupt stop as the watch ran out of line. As the cord lost its slack, Jason's momentum propelled him to the hard unyielding surface of the building. "Ooh-ah-uh!" Beck gasped. "Ouch! I think I dislocated by shoulder. Oh well. At least it's not raining." A boom of thunder rumbled through the city as lightning forked overhead. "I couldn't keep my big mouth shut, could I?" the blond crook grumbled.

Back up on the rooftop patio, Dorothy Wayneright turned to see a disheveled Roger Smith stumbling out onto the patio.

"Rodge…er…" Dorothy stammered. She moved like a marionette, emphasizing both her mechanical nature and her loss of free will.

"Dorothy, come down from there," Roger implored her, lowering his voice so as not to alarm her. "Please, come back to me Dorothy."

The girl stood as erect as a soldier at attention. "Roger, I cannot," she retorted in her dour monotone. "If I do, I will kill you." A crack of thunder punctuated her statement.

"You don't have to, Dorothy," Roger insisted gently. "You are your own person. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I have to," she stated somberly. "I have to kill you. The directives commanding me are ringing in my ears. They are as necessary as breathing. As compulsory as opening an umbrella when it rains."

At that moment, the black sky chose to release its downpour. Large, full raindrops hit their bodies. The rainfall matted their hair to their heads and caused rivulets of water to flow down their cheeks.

"Some people choose to stand in the rain without an umbrella," Roger Smith told her. "That's what it means to be free."

The rain dripping down her melancholy face made it appear as if Dorothy was crying. Seeing her like that choked Roger up as well, but he had to be strong, for both their sakes.

"Roger, I am not free," she said quietly. "I am not even real."

"You're real to me," Roger insisted switching to his 'command voice', "and I'm tired of you giving up on me, Dorothy Wayneright!"

"I have never given up on you, Roger Smith," Dorothy told him.

"That's baloney and you know it," Roger told her. "You gave up when Beck's robots came to get you, and you're giving up now! You're stronger than that, Dorothy Wayneright. Why aren't you trying harder?"

"I am not like you, Roger," she said sadly. "My memories can be used to restore a megadeus to operation. The memories inside me can be used to create a weapon of mass destruction. I cannot allow that to happen. I should be destroyed before anyone else comes to harm."

"You deserve your life as much as anyone else does!" the negotiator argued as the rain soaked through his clothing. "I've never met a more giving or selfless person in my life! You deserve a chance to live, Dorothy Wayneright. Don't throw your life away. You've got to fight!"

"My very presence endangers those I love," the android informed him. "When Jason Beck abducted me at the Nightingale, my father wanted me to resist. My resistance caused his death, and I was kidnapped anyway. If a battle cannot be won, it is better to surrender if it will save the lives of those that you care about."

"What are you talking about?" Roger asked.

"When the scorpion robots attacked the house, it was obvious that both you and Norman would die trying to defend me," the pale girl explained. "It was better that I surrendered myself so that you might live."

Roger was momentarily taken aback by the revelation. It was so obvious! Why hadn't he seen it? To Dorothy's logical mind, it made no sense to allow history to repeat itself. He should have realized what a formative moment Timothy Wayneright's death was for the impressionable android girl.

"Roger, I want this to end," Dorothy said miserably. "Orders that I find repugnant ring through every fiber of my being. The only way to ensure your safety is to destroy myself. If I jump, your life will be spared."

Oh God, thought Roger, she's talking herself into it! "Wait! Don't jump!" he cried. He ran a few steps to her before he stopped himself. Ignoring the rain spattering his face he gestured with open hands to the despondent android. "We have your original memory!" He shouted above the wind. "We can restore you to back to normal and let Red Destiny rest in peace! You can have your life back!"

"I am not technically alive, Roger," Dorothy pointed out. The wind and rain whipped through her hair as rivulets of water poured down her face and body.

"Yes you are!" Roger argued. "You said it yourself that even your father didn't completely understand how you work or how you think. You are a real and living person, Dorothy Wayneright! You deserve life as much as any of us!"

"As long as I exist, you are in danger," Dorothy insisted.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm always in danger," Roger smirked as he hugged himself as the rain soaked through his clothing. "As the pilot of Big O, there's always some punk who's trying to take me down."

"I am in pain," Dorothy closed her eyes. "I am just a machine. There is no reason I should live. According to Red Destiny's directives, anyone who has forbidden memories must perish. By definition, I qualify. I can end my pain and ensure your safety, simply by stepping off the ledge. I don't even have to jump."

"Don't you dare jump!" he ordered. "If you do, I'll jump after you!" Stupid thing to say, but he couldn't think of anything else.

"Do not be ridiculous, Roger," she sighed. "You will not jump after me. I am not worth it."

"You are to me!" he shouted, proof that anyone who negotiates for himself has a fool for a client.

"No I am not," Despite her calm voice, there was something childish about her stubbornness.

"Yes, you are!" he cried. "You mean the world to me!"

"I am just a machine," Dorothy said sadly. "I am not a real woman. You could never care about me. You could never love me."

"Don't say that, Dorothy!" Roger's voice betrayed his fear.

"It is in your nature to protect the helpless, but you do not love me," she said with an air of finality to her voice. "No one could. I am a machine, nothing more."

"Don't say that!" snapped a horrified Roger. "You're more than just a machine! And I do love you!"

"What?" Her eyes snapped open.

"I said that I love you!" Roger spread his arms wide as the rain poured down on them.

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

Next: Created to be Loved