Paradigm City - Fan Fiction

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Belonging

Part 8

Dorothy lay peacefully in Roger's arms, warm and safe and happy. "Hey," his eyes opened and he smiled at her. "Feeling better?"

"Yes," she nodded and lay her head down against him, utterly content. "Roger... promise me you'll never let me go."

"Never," he said. She looked up at the strange note in his voice. Alex was grinning back at her. "Don't be afraid, Dorothy. No matter what you do, you'll always belong to me."

She sat up and clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. "Just a bad dream," she whispered to reassure herself. She was still in the armoire and the daylight seeping in under the cracks of the doors was fading. The pain had lessened a little, although it threatened to blossom into full flower at any moment. She sat completely still, listening.

If she had made any sound, it seemed no one had heard it. She waited for nearly a half an hour to be sure, then eased the door open a few millimeters and waited. When nothing happened, she opened it the rest of the way and slowly got out.

She walked silently to the window and peered out. All of the outside lights were on, and she could see bobbing flashlights off in the distance--they were combing the woods, by the look of it. She wasn't going to be able to leave any time soon.

She needed to find something to occupy herself while she waited. She didn't dare to shut down again, for fear of more nightmares. She had never puzzled out what caused her to dream, although it had been happening since her waking. Gordon had theorized that it was her buffers emptying themselves as part of her automatic maintenance routines, but she would have expected them to be more random if that were the case.

She knew there were books in a box at the bottom of a nearby stack, but she didn't want to take the chance of disturbing anything. She went back to the armoire and idly poked through the one of the two small boxes there. There was a stack of letters tied with a faded ribbon, a keepsake box that held a few baby teeth and several locks of hair, a photo album... this piqued her interest and she brought it over to the armchair situated next to one of the windows.

There was just enough light shining in from one of the outside floods for her to be able to see clearly. She looked through the pages and was completely enchanted by the sight of Roger and Alex as babies and then as young children. She looked curiously at the pictures of their mother, wondering what she had been like to be able to make everyone around her smile like that.

Although her head still ached, the distraction of something else to think about did seem to reduce the pain a little. She looked at the pictures for a long time before finally she closed the photo album and returned it to the box. She put the stack of letters to one side and opened the second box. This one was full of loose pictures. She went back to the chair, setting the box on her lap.

As she removed several handfuls of pictures, she realized that there was a book at the bottom. She moved more of the pictures and discovered a handwritten journal. After examining it for a moment, she put the pictures back into the box and set it down at her feet.

The sun was rising when she finally set the book aside. The journal had belonged to Nora Rosewater, and had gone a long way towards answering the question of what Roger and Alex's mother had been like.

Most of the entries had spoken of ordinary things, the day-to-day activities of a busy, happy young mother very much in love with her husband. The insights that the journal contained about the personalities of the people around her, though, told Dorothy why the people around Nora had always been smiling. She'd had the rare gift of true empathy and a shrewd understanding of human nature.

Roger was very like Nora in temperament, Dorothy realized. Alex had inherited her shrewdness. She thought this over as she returned the journal to the box and brought the box back to the armoire. When everything was neatly stacked, she climbed in and closed the doors. With the sounds of the household waking below her, she preferred to be out of sight.

***

"This is quite a problem," Gordon steepled his fingers and sighed.. "Lisa has no reason to make up such a story, of course. Still, it's not like your brother. He's a lot of things, some of them less than admirable, but..."

"She... she seemed to be willing," Roger turned red. "Of course, admittedly, I didn't hang around to make sure!"

"No, of course not," his father said. "Hmmm.... and you say he had casually mentioned wiping her."

"Yes," Roger said. "I left immediately after that, I couldn't stand to even look at him."

"Well, we have two issues here," Gordon said. "The first is whether what you saw was against Dorothy's will. I don't know if it occurred to you, but she may have simply been running one of her routines as the fastest way out of the situation."

"I didn't even think of that," Roger said. "To say I was stunned is an understatement. When I went back to my room and started trying to piece it together, it all seemed so clear. I thought her attempt to... to seduce me was her way of making sure I really didn't want her so that she could go to Alex with a clear conscience. When she came the next morning and woke me, it just seemed to confirm my theory."

"It fit all the facts that you had at the time," his father pointed out. "When you saw... what you saw, there was nothing to cause you to become suspicious. I know you're blaming yourself, but it wasn't your fault. It was a set of unfortunate circumstances. If you let yourself keep thinking this way, it's going to tear you up. You can't afford that, son. She's going to need you."

"I almost...I almost..." Roger said miserably. "If I had, Alex wouldn't have been able to..."

"This is pointless," Gordon said sternly. "You were trying to act in both of your best interests. There was nothing unreasonable about your decisions. You were working with the information you had. We could spend the rest of our afternoon playing "what if?" What if you had let her seduce you? What if she had taken Lisa's advice and told you after the first incident? What if Lisa had decided to tell us? None of these questions will change anything. We still have to find Dorothy. We still have to deal with what happened."

"You're right," Roger said, staring at the floor. "I just wish... Dad, if we don't find her... I don't know what I'll do without her. She's..." his voice trailed off.

"You...you go on," Gordon's eyes were distant with remembered pain. "It gets better in time, although you never forget..." He cleared his throat. "We'll find her, son. And after that... well, she's a fine girl, and I'll be proud to have her as part of the family. Your grandfather feels the same way."

Roger looked at him, astonished. "You knew?"

"When a son who is an enthusiastic participant in the local nightlife suddenly begins staying home every night," Gordon said, "one at least suspects." His smile faded. "The second issue is the more thorny one," he continued. "It seems as though Alex does not believe Dorothy is a conscious person. The idea that perhaps his actions were against her will is as ridiculous to him as it would be to you if I were to tell you that my car was upset with you for driving it to the train station."

"A car is made for driving, a pleasure-bot is made for sex... when he feels like driving, he gets into the car, when he feels like sex..." Roger grimaced. "But if that's the case, how can we possibly convince him?"

"I don't know if we can," Gordon said. "However, right now, Dorothy's well being is the priority. First, we have to find her. We can deal with the rest afterwards. I do suggest you find the manual immediately-- if your brother doesn't have it, he can't use it."

"Already taken care of," Roger said.

"Good. Rest assured, Roger... it will be dealt with. You have my word on that," Gordon told him. "If your brother's actions were without malice, I'll give him the opportunity to make amends if Dorothy is willing to accept them. Otherwise..."

"Finding her is all I care about," Roger said. "I don't even care if she's so mad at me for not listening that she never speaks to me again. I just want to know she's safe."

"There's been nothing so far?" Gordon asked.

"Not even a whisper," his son told him. "Felix thinks we have an even bigger problem, though." Gordon listened attentively as Roger explained.

***

Sheldon Green sat at his usual table in the Poseidon, pretending to read his newspaper. "Don't look this way," he said to the well-dressed young man nursing a beer at the table next to his. "I have no information yet. I asked Felix to send you to speak to me because I wanted to ask you if you were willing to offer a reward."

Rosewater, Green noted with approval, carefully kept his gaze straight ahead, his lips barely moving. "Anything I have." He took a slug of his beer.

"Mistake," he shook out the paper and opened it to another page, folding the earlier pages back. "It doesn't do to appear too eager, it can make you vulnerable to greed. Some of the people who are looking for her would milk the situation for all it's worth if they caught wind of the least hint of desperation. That doesn't help your friend."

"What do you suggest?" Roger kept his voice soft, but his frustration was apparent.

"Hmmm... You want to offer enough to make it worth someone's while, but not so much that it brings the opportunists crawling out of the woodwork," Green said. He thought about it for while longer. "I recommend you offer $1000 in cash for information that leads to her recovery, or $5000 if she's safely delivered here to me, contingent on her good condition. We don't want anyone to get wind that the Rosewaters are involved."

"Because it would lead to an increase in price," Roger said.

"Exactly." Felix had said good things about this human, and Green was beginning to understand why. "How long do you need to get it?"

"That depends on your fee," Roger said.

"$500 up front with another $500 payable if I'm successful," Green said.

"Done," Roger said. "I assume you want old bills in small denominations?"

"Of course," Green folded his paper. "Bring it here tomorrow. Sit down and have a drink just like you did today and drop it on to my table as you walk by to leave. How we pay the reward will depend on who we're paying it to, but I suggest you gather the cash as soon as possible. If she's in this city, we'll find her."

"Fair enough," Roger drained his beer and stood. "Thank you." He walked past the android without looking at him.

Green decided that he liked this young man. He quickly moved his paper to cover the bills that had unexpectedly appeared on the table in front of him and made them disappear.

***

Dorothy waited until well after dark to open the doors of the armoire. She looked out of the windows and saw that everything was quiet. There were no searchers tonight, and only the normal lights were on. If she was going to go, she should go now.

She wanted to make a proper plan, but every time she started to think of making a life without Roger in it, the headache returned, and the more she tried to think, the more blinding it became. She had gotten as far as deciding that she would leave through the woods and that she would follow the highway to the city. That would at least get her out of the attic and lessen the chances of her being discovered, and she could decide what to do next once she got there.

Getting out proved to be a lot simpler than getting in. She quietly opened the window above the fire ladder and climbed out, closing it behind her. She let herself down to the porch roof and then jumped lightly to the ground and headed straight for the woods.

The further away she went, the more pain she felt, the level rising until tears were streaming down her face. She had no idea how long it took her to get through the woods or follow the highway to the city. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping her balance, as the pain was making it difficult to regulate her movements.

She searched her memory for something to distract herself. Anything positive that involved Roger seemed to clear her head a little, so she began replaying those memories in as much detail as possible. Her nightmare notwithstanding, what worked best was the remembrance of lying in his arms listening to his heartbeat and quiet breathing as he slept.

She had no idea how long it took her, but she finally made it to the city. She was currently walking through a rundown-looking neighborhood where, thankfully, no one was paying her any attention. She had come to realize that she was in serious trouble--despite her efforts, the pain had slowly continued to increase, and she estimated that she only had a few more hours before it reached the point that she would be incapacitated.

She needed to find a safe place where she could rest. She needed to make a plan. She clutched her head, whimpering as a wave of fresh agony washed over her. She needed help!

She didn't dare call home. She didn't want to talk to Roger or Alex, and she was afraid if she wasn't careful, they might be able to determine where she was by matching up what could be seen behind her to an image from a law-enforcement database. She wouldn't have the option of shutting off the video on a public phone, and if she covered the camera before making the call, the phone wouldn't work.

She spotted a cash machine as she continued along. Money...money would help her. With money, she could get a room at a cheap hotel. She staggered over to the machine. It took her four tries to get the card out of her wallet and another six to insert it into the machine, but she finally succeeded. She chose the option of checking her current balance.

To her horror, the machine simply hummed to itself and took her card. "Please contact issuer" the words flashed on the screen. Had her account been closed? What was she going to do without money? The pain got worse as she began to panic.

***

The man in the shadows near the bank machine studied the young woman with interest. Red hair, slender build... he wondered if she was the one Sheldon Green was looking for. He'd said she was lost, perhaps in trouble, and her disheveled appearance certainly suggested that all was not well with her.

He walked over to her casually, not wanting to alarm her. "Dorothy?" he asked. She whirled to face him, her eyes wide with fear. She was the one, all right. It was early yet, Green ought to still be over at the Poseidon. He gently reached for her arm. "There's someone looking for you. Let me bring you to him. He wants to help."

Stars exploded in his head as he felt himself being thrown to the ground by the force of her punch to his jaw. When he regained consciousness a short time later, feeling like he'd been run over by a truck, the street was deserted and the girl was gone.

***

Dorothy ran blindly through the quiet streets, desperately trying to hang on to the last shreds of her sanity. The pain in her head had escalated to the level of a jackhammer and she swerved drunkenly as her stabilizers alternately failed and then overcompensated.

Why did it hurt so much? It was getting hard to see, the blackness was closing in slowly but surely. What was that terrible noise that sounded like someone screaming, and why was it following her? She stumbled and fell, somehow managing to get up again and keep running. A short distance later, she fell again.

Why couldn't she get up? Was she going to die? She couldn't die, it would make Roger unhappy with her, and her job was to make Roger happy. She had to find someplace safe to rest, she couldn't stay here in the street. If someone found her lying here, they would bring her to Alex. Alex was looking for her, and if he found her, he would erase her. If he erased her, she would die, and it would make Roger unhappy with her. Her job was to make Roger happy...

She somehow got to her feet, trying to replay the memories of Roger holding her, but she lost control and suddenly all of her memories were pouring out at once. She staggered and fell to her knees, clutching her head. Pain... Roger... Happy...

She was sitting... somewhere, frightened and confused. A warm pair of hands moved slowly over her shoulders and neck, gently easing the tension in her body. "It will be all right," the voice was a beloved one. "Just relax, Dorothy." A second voice was sending a steady stream of soothing logic that was sorting the chaos in her head and smoothing the fear away.

Big O. The source of the memory suddenly came clear. The megadeus would know what to do. She had to get to him. That's all she had to do. She just had to get up and go to him. She let the thought fill her mind until everything else had faded.

She struggled to her feet and began to walk slowly but steadily in the direction of the arena.

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