Paradigm City - Fan Fiction - Beneath The Surface

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Beneath The Surface

Part 10

Although Roger was nervous about it, Dorothy came to the dig with him the next day. Dastun merely identified her as an explosives expert who was going to look over the partial tunnel with an eye to collapsing it for safety reasons.

"Wait for me here, Roger," she said firmly as she climbed down into the hole.

"I hate this part," he muttered. Dastun walked over to join him.

"Nice clothes," he said, surveying Roger’s new work attire. "Are they finally managing to housebreak you?"

Roger’s first instinct was to snarl, but he realized that the colonel was as uneasy as he was and had just been trying to lighten the mood a little. "They’ll have me doing laundry next if I don’t watch it," he joked in return.

Dastun grinned. "Or cooking."

"I don’t think they’ll let me cook," Roger said ruefully. "They happen to like the kitchen the way it is. Where did the crew go?"

"They’re waiting over at operations, pending a safety report," the colonel answered. "I wish we could collapse the cavern when we do the tunnels, but it’s too risky. I’m not sure if it’s only under the street or if it’s under buildings, too."

"Dorothy said something about getting the digger to fill it in so there would be no more problems," Roger told him. "She thought that the idea of having more humans down there to disturb it would be enough to get it to cooperate."

After over an hour of waiting, Roger was relieved to see Dorothy’s red hair at the top of the hole. Dastun grabbed the rope along with him to pull her up. "My safety report is that the tunnels are safe for walking over, but it is not advisable to drive heavy machinery near them," she informed the two men. "Is there any paint?"

"What, for marking? There has to be, they used it to show where they were going to cut the roadway," Dastun answered. "It’s probably in the operations center, I’ll go and check and let the crew know." He strode off towards the building.

"How did it go?" Roger asked.

She absently brushed some of the dust off of the heavy coveralls she was wearing. "It took a while for it to respond to my calling, but it seems to understand. I am to return in two days to set the explosives."

When Dastun returned with several cans of spray paint, Dorothy conscientiously marked the area of the tunnels. "I would tell them not to bring the equipment any closer than twenty feet from the markings," she told him. "The tunnels seem to be in good shape, but there may be hidden weak spots."

"Thank you, Dorothy," the colonel said. "I’m going to be glad when this is taken care of."

"Me too," Roger agreed. "I’ll be back tomorrow, same as usual."

"Okay," Dastun nodded. "They’re planning to fill in some of the other partial tunnels for the rest of the day, so there won’t be anything new."

The ride home was uneventful. Roger went to the kitchen and made himself a snack and got something to drink while Dorothy washed up and changed her clothes. "Dorothy, sit down for a minute," he said when she came into the kitchen.

She joined him at the table. "Is there something you need?"

"No...well, in a way, yes," he answered. He finished the last bites of food before continuing, "I have been talking to Norman, and I think that perhaps I learned some new things."

"I see," she said simply, waiting for him to go on.

"I would like to know something, if you don’t mind answering," he said. When she nodded, he reached across the table and took her hand, looking at it thoughtfully. It felt slightly warm, and the material that served as her skin was sufficiently padded that he couldn’t tell by touch alone that there was metal underneath. He ran his fingers over the back of her hand. "You can feel that?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," she answered.

"Close your eyes," he commanded. When she obeyed, he lightly touched one of her knuckles. "Did you feel that? No, don’t open your eyes."

"Yes, you touched the bottom knuckle of my third finger," she answered. He touched her finger almost imperceptibly. "First finger between the bottom and middle knuckle" she said.

"Hmmm..." he touched the glass holding his drink, which had condensation on it from the ice. He flicked a single drop of water onto the back of her wrist.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?" he wanted to know.

"Why did you put a drop of something wet on my wrist?" She opened her eyes. "My sensors work just the same as your nerves, Roger Smith."

"I saw the schematics, but I wanted to see how well it worked," he told her. "I never realized until I talked to Norman about it yesterday. He said that touching is pleasant to you." It was half statement, half question.

"Yes," she said. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

"One more thing," Roger said on impulse. "When we’re here at home, I would rather you act as you feel. If Norman makes you laugh, I don’t want you to stop laughing just because I came in. You don’t need to act any differently around me. I understand that you are practicing with new things, so even if you make a mistake or do something that I don’t like, I won’t be upset with you. I hope that you’ll remember that I am practicing something new as well."

Dorothy gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Roger. I will remember." She got up and walked towards the door. "I have to meet Instro in a half an hour for my lesson, we are meeting at Amadeus today."

He nodded. "I’ll see you later, then." He put his dishes into the sink and went up to the balcony to think for a while.

**************************************************

"No...I can’t! I won’t!" Roger was crying out in his sleep. "Nooooooooooo!" His own screaming woke him from his troubled dreams. It was the third time that it had happened that night, it seemed that he would no sooner manage to get comfortable and close his eyes and he was seeing the city burn, with him apparently one of the people providing the match. He sat up, still shaking in terror.

"Are you all right, Roger Smith?" Dorothy’s voice came from the shadows.

"What?" he almost jumped off of the bed, he was so startled.

"It’s only me. I heard you shouting and came to see if there was something wrong." Roger blinked in the sudden light of the bedside lamp.

"It was just a bad dream," he said blearily. "I’m sorry I disturbed you."

"You are not well," Dorothy stared down at him, an expression of what could only be described as concern on her face. "Shall I get Norman?"

"No, there’s nothing he can do," he answered dully. "There’s nothing anyone can do."

Dorothy sat down beside him. "You are afraid."

He leaned his chin on his hands and stared at the floor, his eyes nearly closed. "Nightmares will do that to you."

She sat in unmoving silence with him for a long time before she spoke again. "Is what you said to me earlier today the truth?"

"I’m almost always truthful with you, Dorothy," he said without looking up. "Which thing do you mean?"

"When you said that I should act as I feel," she answered.

He nodded, still staring at the floor. "Yes, I was telling you the truth."

"When Alan Gabriel trapped me, I was very frightened," she observed. "My arm and leg didn’t work, and it hurt, even though I muted the pain."

"I can understand that," Roger schooled himself to patience. He had no idea where she was going, but if Norman had managed to convince him of one thing, it was that he needed to give her enough time to get there, or risk forever branding himself a liar. Why did she choose now of all times for this conversation? His head was pounding and he was very, very tired, but he feared that trying to go back to sleep would only bring more bad dreams. "Huh?" he grunted in surprise as Dorothy hesitantly put her arms around him and drew him close.

"When you picked me up and held me, I wasn’t afraid any more," she said simply. "Sleep now, Roger Smith. I will be here with you."

He leaned against her, too exhausted to care about anything other than the comfort that she was offering. Her embrace felt perfectly natural, her arms were warm and soft and startlingly gentle around him. To his surprise, he did doze off, waking only when she shifted him back on to the bed and brought the blankets over him. "Thank you," he mumbled.

"Sleep," she said again, moving to substitute herself for his pillows. She slid one arm under him so that he lay cradled against her, her free hand gently stroking his hair. "I will be here."

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