Paradigm City - Fan Fiction - Beneath The Surface

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Beneath The Surface

Part 8

"I’m back, Norman," Dorothy called as she passed the kitchen. "I’ll be down to help you after I put these shoes away." She nodded in approval when she saw Roger’s clean dress shoes on the newspaper and the worst of the dust removed from his suit. She traded the boots for the shoes and took them and the rest of the laundry downstairs. He had, she noted, even hung his dirty towels back up for a change instead of leaving them on the floor.

As she passed through the kitchen, Norman eyed her burden and winked. "Could it be that I am looking at the force behind the miracle of this afternoon?" he inquired.

"Perhaps," she responded. "Let me just get these things started." She put the shoes down under the table and went in and got the wash started, hanging the suit with the other clothing destined for the cleaners.

Returning to the kitchen, she brought out the shoe polish and a soft cloth and sat down at the table with the shoes on her lap. "I hope you weren’t too hard on Master Roger, Miss Dorothy. He really does have a lot on his mind," Norman said.

"I wasn’t," Dorothy assured him. "I simply brought the state of his clothing to his attention and reminded him that it was making unnecessary work for you."

"I see," he met her eyes and suddenly started to laugh despite trying to keep a straight face. "Poor Master Roger! He didn’t stand a chance, did he?" Dorothy’s hand went to her mouth and she made a small sound that could only be described as a giggle.

This was a development Norman had been hoping for. He said nothing for a few moments, pretending to be busy with dinner. Dorothy sat quietly as she polished Roger’s shoes. Suddenly the idea struck and his smile widened. "Miss Dorothy, did I ever tell you about the time when..." he launched into a story of one of his and Roger’s experiments with a new gadget for the Griffon and the rather entertaining failures of their first few attempts, complete with sound effects and gestures.

Although Dorothy didn’t laugh as often or as loudly as a human would have, it was clear she appreciated the humor of the tale. "I wish I could have seen that, Norman," she told him, still giggling a little.

"Indeed, perhaps you would have prevented us from making such an obvious error," he answered. "Would you please go and set the table when you’ve finished with the shoes? Put out an extra setting in case Dastun comes by while Master Roger is eating."

"Of course," she answered. "I’m done with the shoes now, I just need to press Roger’s work clothes and put them in his room. I’ll do it after that."

She had barely left the room when Roger came up from the repair bays. "Norman, who was just here?" he asked.

"No one, sir, just Miss Dorothy and I," the older man answered.

"I heard someone laughing," Roger had a sudden sinking feeling.

"Yes, that was Miss Dorothy," Norman told him. "I was telling her about the first time we tried to install those rocket-propelled grappling hooks on the Griffon."

Roger chuckled in spite of himself at the memory, but immediately turned serious again. "Do you really think she has a sense of humor, Norman? She acted the same way with Wayneright, so I think she has some kind of program that tells her the right times to laugh."

The butler shook his head. "Master Roger, I’m afraid I must strenuously disagree. Her responses weren’t at the right times, it often took a few seconds for what I had said to sink in. In fact, the more time I spend with her, the more I am convinced that hesitation and awkwardness in her behavior are the mark of the decisions she makes on her own when she is confronting a new situation."

"I don’t understand," Roger frowned.

"You can see the programming at work when she does certain things," Norman explained. "When we were working on the repairs, you could see that she clearly had a routine running. She was totally focused on the task, unresponsive to the world around her and machine-like in her precision."

"Well, that makes sense, given that she is a machine," Roger said somewhat sarcastically.

"Master Roger, I am truly sorry," Norman said gently. "I realize that this is a great deal to absorb--I had a difficult time myself because it went against everything I had assumed. I at least had a little preparation for it because I had helped her to repair herself and at least knew the system was there, even if I wasn’t sure why. Miss Dorothy is as human in her capabilities as you or I." He paused for a moment to be sure that he had been fully understood, and then went on, "It might help you to think of her as someone who is shy in the extreme--she has learned certain simple, appropriate ways of behaving that she can rely on without having to think about it, and she will not try anything different unless she is quite sure that she will not be misunderstood."

"Shy..." the other man shook his head in denial.

"Yes, shy," the butler stated positively. "Why would she tell you she thought something was funny, sir, when she knows you are simply going to insist that she is following a program? Why would she smile at you when she knows you will be sure to inform her that she’s doing a poor job of imitating humans? Why would she tell you she likes to be hugged, that her sensors register touch as pleasant, when you so obviously believe that she is incapable of emotion?"

"I’ve seen her act frightened..." Roger had a strange expression on his face. "Yes, I’m positive she was genuinely afraid."

"She has the potential to experience almost any feeling," Norman insisted. "She is only awkward because she isn’t sure of herself, and the least sign of conflict or mixed emotions will cause her to retreat into the tried and true ways of behaving. Had you walked in during my telling of the story, I am sure that she would have suddenly been the silent Miss Dorothy to whom we are accustomed."

"But why wouldn’t she just say something to me?" Roger asked.

"She responds according to how you treat her, Master Roger. When I treated her with affection, she returned it in kind," Norman answered. "She just isn’t sure enough of herself yet to reach out of her own accord. I would imagine that she will one day, given enough time and practice."

"And she hasn’t had any practice other than with the piano since she’s been here, has she?" It was more of a rhetorical question. Roger sighed. "I’m going to have to think about this for a while."

"As did I," Norman agreed. "It was quite a adjustment to my thinking, but I can’t say that it wasn’t worthwhile. She’s truly delightful company, Master Roger, if you just have the patience to let her decide how to respond to you and work with it for a bit. After a while, when she’s comfortable, the awkwardness disappears."

"Well, hopefully we will get this other little matter settled and there will be some time," Roger said tiredly. "I don’t know how late Dastun will be at the dig, but it’s starting to get dark, and they don’t want to call attention to the site by lighting it, so I would expect to see him sometime soon."

"I’ve asked Miss Dorothy to set an extra place in case he arrives during dinner," the butler told him.

"Thank you, Norman." Roger looked up at the kitchen clock. "I’m going to go and wash up, unless dinner is running late this evening?"

"Right on time, sir," the other man answered.

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