Act: 3 – Jiro the Wanderer
'"Paradigm Executive Ball,'" Roger read aloud, his eyes skimming the memorandum Angel had given him. "'Reminder: all attendees must dress formally. This event is mandatory for all executive officers. Paradigm crew workers and the civilian population are not allowed unless designated as guests by an attending employee.' Civilian population? What is this, a meeting in a bunker?"
Angel had written her address, or, at least, what Roger assumed to be her address on the back. She was in for a surprise if she thought Roger wasn't going to blatantly stand her up for their 'date.'
"Perhaps you should go, Roger Smith."
Roger almost fell out of his chair, half from the surprise of Dorothy entering the living room so quietly and sneaking up on him. "Are you kidding, Dorothy? Why on Earth would I want to attend some silly event held for the sole purpose of making Paradigm's executives feel superior to the rest of the city, let alone go with that Succubus?"
"She may be a devil," Dorothy said, "but on rare occasions, she has lived up to her namesake by being useful, even if it is by manipulating you deeper into the situation."
Roger stared at Dorothy for a moment, raising one eyebrow. "That's awfully philosophical, Dorothy. I didn't know you had that in you."
"You are avoiding the fact that I am correct, Roger."
His chin resting on his hands, Roger said, "Y'know, Angel told me to bring Jiro with me. Maybe you should come as his date."
"Perhaps you should ask Jiro before you arrange his evenings for him. And besides, I doubt I would blend in well," Dorothy pointed out.
"Sheesh, you and Kikaider with your blending in," Roger rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to say it? Blending in is no way to go through life and not always the way to go about your business, either."
"Of course," agreed Dorothy. Roger almost fainted when he realized that yes, she was agreeing. And then she added, "It makes sense for you to believe that, given your noxious choice of clothes."
"And this goes here?" Jiro asked, holding the massive steel rivet in his arms as if it weighed less than he did. Or rather, less than he would if he were human.
Norman wiped the sweat from his face with a handkerchief, looking up from his re-wiring job to watch the android holding onto the massive hunk of metal, patiently waiting to see if he was performing the task correctly.
Dorothy was like this when she spared time to help on Big O, but as Norman could still attend to it alone anyway and move the heavy things with the machinery, she often concentrated on the housekeeping and errand running. Norman, in turn, did not have to worry about those things when Big O needed work after a fight, often giving him time to prepare dinner to his personal standards as well. "Right there, yes. I must say, Master Jiro, you are quite the handyman."
"Oh, it's no problem," Jiro said, finding himself staring up at the Big O. Something seemed familiar about it, something that stopped Jiro from feeling the transitory thrill of seeing something new and amazing. The Megadeus...just what was it, anyway?
These thoughts were, in fact, so consuming, that Jiro hadn't even considered the rebirth of a dead brother all that much. He snapped out of his thoughts when Norman spoke again. "Master Jiro, if it's not too much trouble, would mind giving the cockpit and face a good wipe down? The automatic cleaners never seen to do a good job..."
Jiro complied, hopping down to the catwalk to fish out a rag or three from the bucket Norman always brought as part of his repair kit. He believed cleanliness was just as important as repairs, and this philosophy certainly seemed to give Big O some extra luster and confidence on the battlefield.
"I call it 'Hakaider.'"
"Is it really necessary?"
Roger tried to rub his eyes, but his hands didn't move. He could see the old man talking, presenting the newly finished Hakaider unit to…someone else. The other voice in the room was out of sight.
The old man continued. "I hope not, but...it just seemed right to have some sort of contingency..."
This is the way the world ends...
Quite suddenly, Roger found himself sitting in front of a television, watching a news report, the camera focused on what was, apparently, a massive robot. The hands of it looked very familiar...soon, the news station lost its feed when the robot blasted part of whatever city it was standing in.
Roger saw his hand reach for the remote and switch to a station still able to broadcast. What was this? Something before the Event?
Not with a bang, but with a whimper...
Roger woke up. "Ghhneh...is it morning already?"
In point of fact, it was morning. Seven o'clock in the morning. Roger wanted to get at least another four, maybe five hours of sleep, but it was worth loosing sleep at this point to get away from these crazy dreams.
Dreams...the end of the world...or the beginning of a new world? Remembering what Hakaider had said, about the Event being man made, Roger wondered if these dreams, these memories, were more than just random history.
"It's too early to get a migraine over this," Roger growled, shoving himself out of bed.
One shower and shave later, Roger was ready to start the day. At least, he was trying to delude himself into thinking so, but he wouldn't be ready to start the day until the afternoon.
As he walked out, straightening his tie, Roger almost walked right into the path of Dorothy's vacuum as she turned it on and began the process of vacuuming the carpet at insanely non-human speeds. "You should watch where you are going, Roger."
"What?" Roger yelled over the vacuum, but Dorothy did not answer. Maybe she had moved too far away to hear over the machine herself. "Maybe she's just ignoring me."
Once again contemplating Angel's odd proposition, Roger picked up her flyer from the coffee table and read it over again. "That woman is a witch."
"You can be a real witch when you want to be, my dear."
"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment," Angel answered.
Lacing his fingers and resting his chin on his hands, Alex Rosewater merely smiled back. "As you should. What of the Negotiator?"
"He'll be along tomorrow," Angel answered.
"Very well," Rosewater said, leaning back in his chair. "Hmm. One must wonder how he would react to knowing the truth. Have his implanted memories surfaced yet?
Angel remained silent.
"I see."
She added, "It's not a good idea to let him regain those memories, and you know it."
"Perhaps, but it's not for you to decide whether or not that matters, my dear," Rosewater stood, leading her out of his office and to his private elevator. "There are always a select few who should know more than common people. Roger Smith is one of them. Let him know some of the past, let him puzzle over it. It will only confuse him and make him seek more answers."
As the elevator descended at high speeds, going beyond ground level and further below the Paradigm building, Angel said, "Don't you think provoking Roger Smith into seeking answers is a bad idea?"
"Bah, what does it matter," Rosewater told her. "The world destroyed by a cataclysm, robots run amok, the power of God wielded by man...all of it is a lie, anyway."
The elevator doors opened into a place Angel had never seen before. What she saw in the massive chamber was enough to stop her dead in her tracks for a brief moment.
Alex Rosewater found her shock amusing. "Besides, Roger Smith isn't the only one with a Megadeus."
And he was right, for a Megadeus occupied this underground chamber. Angel decided this wasn't really the biggest shock of all time, considering how most shady people these days seemed to have one, or knew something about them, or found one deep underground.
No, the real surprise came in the details, and the massive object at the far end of the bay, but for now, Angel focused on the humanoid robot. This particular Megadeus looked a lot like Big O. In fact, it looked like Big O in the same manner that Big Duo looked like Big O; this was the third of its kind, sleek and gleaming white, decorations of the sun painted on both arms. Angel couldn't figure out what the arms did on this one, their function wasn't as obvious as those of its brethren.
Rosewater was rather proud of it. "I still wish the technicians could make the cockpit armor a little more secure, but then, one can't have everything. Isn't that right, my dear?"
Angel remained silent...knowing Alex Rosewater didn't believe that at all. Her eyes turned to a man approaching the two of them; he was the only one on this level, the only other people in the chamber were technicians checking over the Megadeus on walkways above.
Rosewater seemed delighted to see this man. "Ah, there you are, Saburo. I trust you failed miserably in killing the Negotiator?"
Saburo ignored his question. "The mechanics say they're done; Big Fau is ready."
"What are you going to do?" Angel suddenly asked, realizing she was far more out of the loop than she knew. A Megadeus, a strange man that had tried to kill Roger…what was going on?
"Tomorrow, I'm going to remind Mr. Smith of his contract to get Michael Seebach under control, and if he refuses, well...like I said, the Negotiator isn't the only one with a Megadeus."
"That's him," Roger said.
Putting his hands on the wheel, Roger double-checked to make sure Griffon's camouflage was on. Many people, including the man he and Jiro were about to start following, knew his car was black. Some had seen it red. None had seen it green yet.
From his inconspicuous spot on the street corner, Jiro looked down the sidewalk until his eyes found the target.
"That's Beck," Roger confirmed, his watch plenty sensitive enough for Jiro to hear him through it. On that note, he shifted gears and pressed down on the gas, ever so slowly pulling out on the street a good fifty feet behind Beck. Jiro was little closer at this point.
And then Beck started running, prompting Roger to nearly floor the gas. "He saw us!"
Pulling into an ally, Roger found he could no longer proceed in a vehicle and got out of the Griffon, Jiro leaping off of whatever building he had jumped onto and landing next to him.
The ally was a dead end, but Beck was nowhere to be found.
Until both of them walked not five steps forward when a massive poof went off, followed by the Griffon's car alarm.
Beck had tried to steal Roger's car. Beck had gotten a cloud of mace sprayed in his face and a loud, obnoxious alarm ringing in his ears for his troubles.
Roger couldn't help but be amused as Beck stumbled around and cursed. "Oh, good one, Beck. Haven't you learned not to mess with the mechanical things around me?"
Swearing up a storm, Beck rubbed furiously at his eyes, sure that Roger was approaching him. When he could see again, Roger had not moved. Roger did, however, speak again. "Out with it, Beck. What's Schwarzwald up to?"
His eternal grin returning, Beck answered, "Pfft, like I'm going to tell you that."
At this, Beck reached under the back of jacket. Roger flinched when he came up with the flute Jiro had crushed under his foot, and Beck found this highly amusing. "You think I'd only keep around one of these little beauties?"
He started playing, concentrating on nothing but the music, on driving Roger mad with pain and noise.
And then Roger walked up and punched Beck across the face. "I think this one's faulty, Beck."
Picking up the flute, Roger busted the cheap plastic over his knee before pulling Beck up to his feet by the lapels of his jacket.
Beck was not pleased, franticly pinching at his nose. "Aww, man! You boke my node!"
"And I'm gonna break more than that if you don't tell me where Schwarzwald is and what he's doing."
"I met hib in the subway tunnels," Beck rasped out, "He said that flute would dribe you up the wall, that's all he would tell me!"
"The subway tunnels," Roger dropped Beck, remembering the day before. Schwarzwald didn't wander much into the shallow tunnels, Roger knew, or he'd have met him a long time ago. No, the crazy ex-writer reveled in spelunking the old, deep ruins for memories.
The next course of action was obvious. "Hey Jiro," Roger said, "Why don't we go take a look at your past?"
Under other circumstances, Roger would have never gone back to this place. The first time, it had scared him beyond belief for no reason whatsoever. Fear was an emotion that Roger Smith was well-acquainted with, and it was an emotion he would never, ever give in to.
And yet, it had taken Dorothy to snap him out of the panic attack this place had given him.
Perhaps Jiro being around was enough of a distraction to prevent growing afraid once more.
Or perhaps Roger simply knew that Jiro as a strong enough android to kick the crap out of a negotiator's worst nightmares. The idea of needing a bodyguard didn't make Roger feel any better. As a consequence, he preferred to think of Jiro as a distraction only.
Through the tunnels, down the same rusty ladder, ad back to the huge, hollowed out cavity where Schwarzwald had found the arch type. The route was simple enough. The underground chamber, with its old, weathered sign proudly displaying "World Expo – '40."
What the hell was an 'expo,' anyway?
This thought was on Roger's mind, but he put it on the backburner when he looked across the ancient chambers and realized something. "It's gone."
Jiro didn't ask what 'it' was; he knew Roger had been here before and knew he would bother going into detail when needed. Roger, in fact, would go into detail later, but for now, he was more concerned with finding out what else was down here.
On this thought, Roger began the trek through the pseudo-maze of walls used for whatever an 'expo' was to the far end, seemingly ignorant but very much aware of the fact that Jiro had hopped up onto the walls and was following from above to get a better view.
Near the end of the room, Roger pulled his flashlight and shined it into the wide, gaping hole where the Archetype once sat dormant. After his run-in with R-D...Hakaider...in the subway tunnels, he was careful to move the light over every square inch of ground, wall and ceiling before moving further.
Continuing through, the duo eventually came to the most anti-climactic of human devices; a very large door. It was a pair of double doors, in fact, the kind that probably slide open to allow something large to pass through, certainly something large enough to be a Megadeus. The metal framework was caked in decades-old mud and rust, but the seams were clean, opened recently and shrugging off the excess. In fact, the patterns of grime on the doors had a distinct grain to them, telling Roger that they did indeed slide open.
Fortunately, the massive doors had a smaller door built in near the base. This door was completely rusted shut.
So Jiro kicked it in.
Roger switched his flashlight off, the area beyond the door completely lit by electrical lights across the ceiling. "I guess having you around is pretty handy after all, Kikaider."
Though lighted, this new chamber was just as run down as the expo hall. It was, however, recently used. Circular in shape, the room held a massive docking area more than similar to Big O's repair bay. The Archetype hung suspended from ceiling cranes and pulleys in the center, even more damaged than when Roger had blown a hole through it.
But the new 'damage' wasn't the result of the combat. Jiro noticed this as well. "It almost looks...stripped."
"Yeah," Roger nodded, "but stripped for what?"
This had Schwarzwald written all over it. The slightly morbid scene, arcane technology used for who-knew-what, the ominous feeling that they were in for a nasty surprise...
"Whoever you are, you're in for a nasty surprise."
Schwarzwald's voice had no living source; it was coming from an intercom. Roger sighed, "It figures."
"The Megadeus you see before you is old and long obsolete. The central systems have been destroyed, its mobility is impaired, and the Dominus is long dead."
"The what?" Roger wondered aloud. That was a foreign word, most certainly; Dominus of Megadeus...the pilot, perhaps?
"In short, it is no longer of use to me. I don't know how you came across this place, but as I no longer need it, I have no reason not to bury you here, lest you decide to track me down and cause me trouble."
Clearly working on an automated response for whatever trap Schwarzwald had set, the Archetype, or what was left of it, began powering up. Briefly, both Roger and Jiro feared it would attack them, but suspended in midair without legs and one barely complete arm, it didn't seem like it would move.
At least, they didn't think it would, until the tell tale hum of electricity running through machinery began to reverberate in the bay and several joints on the Megadeus twitched. The arm began moving, creaking like the old metal it was.
Watching the Archetype move and grow alive, Jiro felt the same sense of familiarity Big O gave him. Only here, underground in a dank room of the past and sensing a distinct hostility in the room, curiosity over this feeling did not enter his mind. "Maybe we should leave."
Turning to take Jiro up on this suggestion, Roger said, "I'm inclined to agree."
They broke into a run as the cranes holding the Archetype moved and dropped it onto the gantry, sending a reverberation through the dock, out the doors Roger and Jiro were crossing, and into the expo hall. Sensing this, Roger kept his ears open. The second time something from the docking bay clanged and banged, he realized the Archetype was most likely crawling across the floor after them.
He brought his left hand up not a second later, watch included. "Big O! It's showtime!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than did Roger finally turn to look back. The tell-tale noise of metal rending roared through the hall, not deafening but on a scale far larger than he was comfortable hearing.
Jiro turned as well, or at least, he tried to turn around, but suddenly, very suddenly, the world went black.
Or at least, even more black, as the expo hall was rather dismal and dark to begin with. The absence of light soon gave way to bright yellow sun and-
Jiro bolted upright. Sun? Sky? One simply didn't see these things underground. And for that matter, Jiro wondered how he had just sat up. One did not usually sit up when they were running from a really large crazy robot.
Blinking his eyes a few times, Jiro realized that this was the least of his worries. The expo hall was gone, the ancient Megadeus nowhere to be found. Roger was not in sight. In their place, Jiro saw a small meadow with unmowed grass, plenty of it lightly crushed under his legs as he sat on the ground. The rest blew gently in the breeze along with the usual outdoorsy types of things like stray leaves and those little drifting flower seeds...
Resisting the urge to become enraptured by the natural scene, of which there was nothing like in Paradigm City, Jiro stood up and dusted himself off. It didn't take a lot of dusting; his clothes, being black, did not dirty easily and any blemish not visible to the naked eye due to color was non-existent as far as Jiro was concerned.
Looking around, Jiro spotted a town, possibly a small city, not far off. The meadow seemed to be on the city limits, but this certainly wasn't Paradigm City. The buildings were modern for Jiro's original time, not the strange, amnesiac place he had woken in. And there were no domes.
One last annoyance nagged at Jiro when he tried to determine how far this area of civilization was. Being a robot, he was used to having a Heads-Up-Display projected onto his vision to tell him things like this, but unfortunately, his vision was perfectly clear and the function simply wouldn't activate.
Resigned to walk and traverse a distance he could not calculate, Jiro pulled his coat tighter and set off.
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