The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Cartoon Network, Sunrise, and Bandai Visual.
THE BIG O:
ACT 28
SCAPEGOAT
Chapter Five: Not Without a Fight
In the center of the city the shattered dome of the Paradigm Corporation stood in ruin. The magnificent building that was both Paradigm's headquarters and Rosewater's palace was split open like an egg. In actuality, many supporters of the 'New Order' perished when Big O's 'final stage' cannon accidentally struck the building during the battle with Big Fau.
Underneath the ruined structure, the damage was more superficial. The underground complex was where the white megadeus called Big Fau was being restored. Scaffolding and workmen surrounded the white giant. Even so with over a third of the megadeus destroyed, it was going to be hard to get massive robot fully operational again.
Inside technicians and physicians continued to study the damage and attempt to pick up the pieces. In the control room, medical doctors had set up scanners and support equipment around the open cockpit that housed Big Fau's control chair.
Alex Rosewater was still sitting on the chair; thin metal cables snaked out of his back to disappear beneath the seat. His eyes were closed, his skin was pale. A tube attached to an intravenous drip was attached to his arm and another slender tube went up his nose.
"Well?" Francis Erskine demanded of the head physician.
"I'm afraid that we haven't figured out how to remove the cables without causing him permanent spinal injury," the doctor replied without removing his surgical mask. "In addition, he doesn't want to be removed from Big Fau. Despite the pain he is in, he acts as though his presence is the only thing keeping the megadeus functioning, and he won't give it up."
"He won't?" Erskine frowned. "But he has to. He won't get well until he gets out of here. Until he's separated from the megadeus he won't recover. We don't need someone possessed by an insane robot, we need our chairman back. Can't you…"
"I'm afraid there is no reasoning with him," apologized the doctor. "He seems most insistent and that's putting it mildly."
"If we can't get through to him," Francis Erskine grumbled. "We may have to enact Roger Smith's insane idea."
Unseen by the two men, Alex Rosewater opened a single bloodshot eye.
"Although with our chairman in this condition, it would be impossible to submit him to a public trial," Erskine continued to complain. "It just isn't going to work. You've got to restore his mind at any rate. The rabble is tearing the city apart and it's only a matter of time before the Paradigm Corporation is overthrown."
The doctor nodded helplessly as Francis Erskine left the control room to exit the megadeus. He didn't notice Alex Rosewater's skull like face twist into a leer. He also didn't hear Rosewater whisper: "So you want to get rid of me, do you negotiator? Not without a fight…"
Back at the renovated bank building that was the home of Roger Smith, the black clad negotiator was pouring himself a drink. He indulged himself by musing on the mysteries of Paradigm City. What happened during his fight with Big Fau? Where the hell was Angel hiding? Was the mysterious blonde bombshell even still alive? If he could speak to her, maybe she could put some of his doubts to rest.
Was he really Roger Smith or was he an actor upon a stage so large that no one could see it? For all he knew the entire populace of Paradigm City could be brains in jars hooked up to a huge virtual reality program or part of a huge experiment…
"Roger?" A soft feminine voice broke him out of his reverie. He turned to see the slender and dainty form of R Dorothy Wayneright. The light reflecting off her alabaster face made her expression beatific and caring, but her words had a scornful quality. "What are you doing? Do you intend to do anything today, or are you just going to drink?"
Roger frowned and cleared his throat noisily.
Dorothy continued with childish audacity. "The city is in turmoil. Aren't you going to do something?"
"And what do you recommend I do?" he snorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Use Big O to lead a revolt against the Paradigm Corporation? Install tear gas instead of cluster bombs so Big O can assist the military police with crowd control?"
"At the very least you can assist Norman and I with securing the mansion," Dorothy scolded. "You could supervise modifications so that the mansion could protect our neighbors too."
"Our neighbors?" Roger's eyes widened in surprise, yet his sarcasm didn't leave his voice. "And how long do you expect our supplies to last if we turn the mansion into a refugee camp? Are you…?"
He stopped in mid sentence, surprised and disgusted at his own words. Was he really such an uncaring louse that he was more concerned with his own comfort rather than the plight of his fellow human beings? Here Dorothy was thinking of others, and all he could do is make excuses because the great Roger Smith didn't want to be bothered. What kind of person was he?
He took a deep breath and sighed in defeat. "You're right Dorothy," he murmured softly, "If I don't do something it's just going to get worse before it gets better. I can't hide in my shell forever."
"What are you going to do?" Dorothy prodded. "Are you going to lead a revolt against the Paradigm Corporation?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Dorothy," Roger smirked. "Even if I was successful, if I didn't become a paranoid recluse like Alex Rosewater, I'd be dead in a week."
"Are you not a paranoid recluse now, Roger Smith?" Dorothy retorted.
Roger growled and looked away. He hated to admit it, but that remark hit close to home. It was ridiculous, but it took an android to remind him of the responsibilities of the real world and not become lost wondering whether or not the world was real. He idly wondered if Michael Seebach would have gone insane if he had a mouthy android to keep him grounded.
"I'm not going to dignify that remark with a response," Roger huffed.
"Is that because you do not have one?" Dorothy asked evenly.
Of course, thought Roger. Why else would somebody say that? He felt his cheeks flush in indignation. "No!" he growled. "It's because as you so mercilessly pointed out, I've got better things to do than argue with a foul tempered android!" He downed his drink in one gulp and marched out of the room in a huff. He didn't know where he would find Norman, but the exercise would do him good.
Since Dorothy regained her main memory drive, it seemed that she never ignored an opportunity to get under Roger's skin. Was she making up for lost time? Or was this her way of letting him know that she was back to normal? What if she wasn't back to normal and was overcompensating by being more annoying than usual?
What if there was nothing wrong with her? What if it was all in Roger's head? He had to consider that possibility. As an android she might be able to just snap back to normal after a unthinkable violation to her body and mind while a human would be traumatized for the rest of her life. Roger, on the other hand wasn't sure if the city was real, if his feelings were real, or if he himself was real.
He shook his head as he wandered the stairways, hallways and chambers of the mansion. He didn't call out to Norman because deep down he really didn't care if he found him or not. He only hoped that he could sort out his feelings for Dorothy before she found him again.
What were his feelings for Dorothy, anyway? Did he truly love her? If so, in what way? Was it a brother-sister relationship; was it more of a father-daughter thing? Could it actually be romantic attraction? Was it even possible to have a romantic relationship with a girl who was a robot, and was that what he really wanted anyway? What were Dorothy's feelings towards him? Was he ready for them, and if not, why not?
Suddenly, getting off his posterior and going out on a futile mission to save the city from itself wasn't looking that complicated. All he needed to do was replace the heavy ordinance with tear gas canisters, nets and other less-lethal ammunition. Of course, he'd have to choose his fights to make sure that Big O wouldn't cause more damage than the rioters, but that was… Why was Dorothy talking to him? How did she get downstairs to the office before him? What was she saying?
"Are you listening to me, Roger Smith?" the dainty android asked. She always spoke so calmly that it was difficult to tell when she was upset or irritated. She only called him 'Roger Smith' when she was angry with him, so he had to guess that even an android's patience wasn't infinite.
"Dorothy?" he asked as if he had awoken from a daze. She must have taken the elevator while he had taken the stairs. The negotiator shook his head to clear it as his attitude went from confusion to irritation. "What are you doing? Are you following me or something?"
"I should think that my actions are self-evident," the pale redhead replied. "Did you hear a single word I said?"
"Uh," Roger blinked as his distracted mind tried to translate her retort. It wasn't until after Dorothy's next remark that he realized that she had sidestepped his question by saying nothing.
"I said 'Why did you insist on a copy of my blueprints, Roger Smith?'" the girl continued stubbornly. "Are you planning to construct a replacement for me?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he snorted. "One of you is quite enough."
"Then why was a copy of my blueprints part of your payment for consulting for the Paradigm Corporation?" she retorted.
He wished that he hadn't left the parlor upstairs. He could use another drink. Facing this unrelenting machine sober would be a test of endurance. He inhaled deeply and steeled himself for the inevitable.
"Those blueprints are the baseline for your medical record," Roger explained, attempting to switch from confrontational to reasonable. "If anything happens to you, Norman and I need to know how to put you back together. You understand that, don't you?"
"Since when do you need such exact and detailed information on my bodily functions, Roger Smith?" the android asked mercilessly. "Norman has always been able to repair my damages in the past."
"Since three weeks ago, when Beck removed your main memory and installed it in Big Fau," Roger snapped. In less than a second, reasonable went right back to confrontational. "If you remember, even when we regained possession of your memory drive we still needed Beck's help to reinstall it into that thick head of yours. What's the big deal anyway? You don't have anything to hide do you?"
There was slight hesitation, and then the android responded, "If I had anything to hide, I would not reveal it to you, Roger Smith." Dorothy turned on her heel and left the room without another word.
Roger's mouth was still open. He had been expecting the heated discussion to continue. "What? What did I say?" He sighed as he walked over to his desk and turned over an hourglass. Once again, Dorothy had gone out her way to prove that she a real woman and not merely a machine that mimicked one. Somehow he had won the argument, but only a real woman could make him feel like he lost.
He sat down at his desk to think. Dorothy was real. There was almost no doubt about that anymore. He laughed bitterly. He didn't even know if the world was real. He didn't even know if he was real, and yet here was a product of man's creation that appeared as real and caring as anyone else he had ever met, but was Dorothy capable of such emotions?
Roger pulled his journal out of his desk, and idly flipped through it. From the beginning she could form subjective opinions. She seemed genuinely happy singing for her father at the Nightingale. She displayed actual fear when encountering the unfinished megadeus he had labeled 'the Archetype' that Schwarzwald had uncovered beneath Paradigm City. Her affection for the kitten she had named 'Pero' was undeniable.
She insisted on playing the piano to get him up if he slept in too late. What pleasure did she derive from that? Was it a malicious streak in her personality or was it just because she wanted to see him?
Three times she had stated that she loved him. The first time was when she was under Beck's control and trying to crush his rib cage. She said that she loved him just before she shorted out Beck's remote control tiara and flipped her circuit breakers to save his life. The second time was when the blonde criminal had kidnapped Roger for a change. Dorothy said that she had come to rescue her employer, the man that she loved. The third time was when Beck had swapped Dorothy's memory drive with that of Red Destiny, the android's homicidal duplicate.
Three times had said that she loved him, and that didn't include the gift that she had bought him last Heaven's Day. One time she said that she was joking, but only after she saw Roger's negative reaction. The other two times she literally was not herself. The first time could have been Beck's sick joke, but what about the most recent time?
What if she had said that she loved him as an affirmation to draw the strength necessary to resist the orders to kill? That would certainly explain the last time, and the first time too.
Dorothy was always asking questions about love. She once said that she didn't understand fear, right before she experienced it. Did that mean that she could experience love without understanding it? Was she really that human? Did she feel love more deeply than Roger himself could?
Roger put his journal back in the desk. He hadn't really been reading it anyway. He left the room, lost in thought, and went to tell Norman to equip Big O for riot control.
That was why he didn't see Dorothy enter the office after he left. He wasn't there when she moved a painting on the wall aside to reveal a hidden wall safe. He didn't know that her slender, dexterous fingers were turning the dial of the combination lock too fast for the naked eye to follow. He certainly didn't know she could open the safe and remove a heavy envelope filled with android schematics.
On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Norman's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:
Next: Unleashed
