[FIC] The Helix Trap Chapter 5/19
During my lunch break I doodled out a rough outline for this fic, and right now it's looking to end up at 18 chapters. At my current rate of posting that means it won't be finished until March. But according to the folks at inceptanon2 the fandom will be DEAD by February. Will I then be a zombie!?!?
One can only hope.
EDIT: LOL we were all wrong, apparently.
Fandom: Inception
Title: The Helix Trap
Chapter: 5/19 (5,796 words) (For other parts please check my My main post)
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Eames/Robert, Arthur/Ariadne, Cobb, Yusuf, Saito, Browning, and others.
Warnings: Violence, sexual content.
Disclaimer: These characters and setting do not belong to me and are being used without permission but for no profit
Summary: After the Inception proves successful, Eames tracks down Robert out of concern for its unusual side effects. Meanwhile, Arthur is hired to a dangerous job that forces the rest of the team to take sides: whether to defend Robert and his fragile mind, or ruin him completely.
Notes: C&C Welcome and appreciated. To my beta, chypie, thanks for your input!
It was after nine when Ariadne made it to the warehouse. She was exhausted after a long day of group work and presentations, but it never occurred to her not to go. Just knowing that the rest of her team was hard at work put her in an anxious state, and she was eager to see what they had come up with in her absence.
"Arthur?" She gave a little shake to the dessert box she was carrying as she entered the main workroom. "Yusuf? I brought dessert."
"Mm! Ariadne!" Yusuf called. "We weren't sure you were coming."
A strong, spicy aroma tickled her nostrils as she approached, and she quickly spotted the source: a crock pot had been added to the rice and coffee makers in Arthur's makeshift kitchen, and it hissed as something tasty simmered within. As she came closer, she finally got a better view of the room.
Yusuf had taken over the room's largest table, covering it with various bottles, glass instruments, and composition books. The card table next to it was host to several strewn pieces of draft paper covered in sketches, with Nash leaning over them. His hand moved in wide arcs, carving bold lines, and Ariadne couldn't help but wince at the smears he was making and the disarray of his workspace. Charla was seated nearby, reading from an open file as she sipped what looked like some kind of tea.
"Sorry I'm late," Ariadne said, dropping her purse near Nash's table. After a quick glance around she found a space for her box next to the crock pot, and couldn't help but peek under the lid. "What's cooking?"
"It's turkey chili," Nash replied, erasing furiously. "Or, it was, when I started it."
Yusuf took off his glasses and joined Ariadne so he could stir the pot. "I made some improvements," he told her with an all-knowing nod.
Ariadne smiled. "Well I hope it pairs well with tiramisu." She glanced around the room again but still did not see the last member of their group. "Where's Arthur?"
"Trying to sleep off a migraine in the next room." Yusuf tested a spoonful of the chili before moving on to Ariadne's dessert. "I was supposed to wake him up twenty minutes ago, but I was waiting for the food to be ready."
"Setting his mouth on fire won't cure his headache," Nash said dryly.
Charla smiled but did not look up. "So long as the ingredients were fresh and it doesn't contain caffeine or alcohol, eating something nutritious might help."
Ariadne glanced between them and smirked, wishing she had been able to come sooner. "I think I'll peek in on him," she said. "Help yourself to the cake."
"And it is nutritious," Yusuf continued as she moved away. "I had that in mind when I made my alterations. Cooking is not unlike chemistry, you know, especially when you only have one pot to work with. Did you know that..."
Ariadne shook her head, still smiling, but once she reached the far room she sobered. Being mindful of Arthur's probable state she skipped knocking, and instead opened the door a crack to peek inside. Arthur was stretched out on his stomach on the short bed, fully dressed except for bare feet. He seemed to be sound asleep, but when Ariadne started to close the door again he stirred. "Yusuf...?"
"It's me," Ariadne whispered. She slipped inside and closed the door so that only a sliver of light could sneak through. On tiptoes she moved to crouch at his bedside. "I heard you weren't feeling well."
Arthur groaned, and rubbed his eyes as he rolled onto his back. "Overworked myself," he grumbled. "What time is it?"
"About nine-twenty." Once Arthur had settled, Ariadne moved to the edge of the mattress so they could better see each other. "Yusuf is threatening to cure you with chili. Feel up to it?"
He groaned again, and Ariadne winced in sympathy. "I have some aspirin in my purse," she said. "Can I get you some water?"
"No, I'm all right." Arthur ran a hand over his scalp and looked up at Ariadne with a faint smile. "But unless they need me I think I'll hide out a while longer."
She smiled back. "I think we'll manage. I have a few mazes doodled in my notebook already that I can work on. Unless we're using Nash's, that is." Though she had yet to see his work, the sight of his table space had not been encouraging.
He saw through her hesitation easily. "I hate to admit it, but Nash really has improved since I worked with him," he said diplomatically. "But I still trust your architecture over his. If you're going to be around for a while, you should work with him. It'll be his job to match your dream down to the smallest detail."
"So he is going to be one of our dreamers?"
"Yes." Arthur smothered a yawn against the back of his hand. "He and Yusuf can give you the details. I'll come out in an hour to see how it's going."
"All right."
Ariadne leaned back. It seemed she had received her cue to leave, but at the same time, the look Arthur was fixing her with looked unmistakably like an invitation. She was tempted--after her long day, an hour to sleep in even a lumpy bed next to a warm body would have been heavenly. And he wants me to, she thought, recognizing very well the subtle gleam in his sleepy eyes. A little kiss, a few sideways looks, a seemingly innocent touch. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. You do like me, don’t you, Arthur?
She scooted closer. She set her hand on his chest and felt him tense, just slightly, beneath it. With her breath held she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. When she leaned back, she was grinning. "All better?"
Arthur watched her very closely. "Getting there."
"If you're not up in an hour, I'll try again," Ariadne said. She gave him a pat and stood, taking some pleasure in his look of mixed disappointment and anticipation. "Get some rest--I'll save you some cake."
His eyebrow twitched, and it seemed like such a perfect moment, she slipped out before he could reply.
I knew it, she thought as she closed the door behind her and headed back to the others. Like hell it didn't occur to you.
"How is he?" Yusuf asked as she rejoined them, plucking the last crumbs off his paper plate.
"He's taking another hour."
Ariadne stepped up behind Nash, and when he noticed her there, he started. "What?"
"I just wanted a peek," Ariadne said, smiling--whatever her fatigue had been coming in, she was in a much better mood. "Arthur said you and I are going to be working together?"
"Oh...yeah." Nash fumbled with the papers using his one good hand, and when a few designs threatened to slip off the table Ariadne hurried to catch them. He winced. "Sorry."
"It's okay." She righted the papers and flipped through them, and immediately noticed a peculiar pattern. "They're all circular."
"Yeah. It's a little weird, I know." Nash motioned for her to put one down, and he traced out a curving path through the lines with his finger. "But it'll be harder for Fischer's subconscious to follow us in a round maze, won't it? And it will be easier for him to figure out that he's dreaming."
"Easier to figure it out?" Ariadne repeated. "I thought that's what we don't want."
Charla closed her file and set it aside. "What's most important is that he accepts the second level as reality," she explained. "For that, we're going to let him discover that the first level is a dream, and "wake" from it into level two."
Ariadne could hear Arthur's voice in her head proclaiming it a bad idea. "But doesn't that mean his projections will be that much more violent? He's already been trained to hunt us down. I don't know if I'll be able to protect the rest of you by myself against all that."
"That's why our escape routes will have to be complex, and unexpected." Charla smiled at her. "We'll very much be putting your architecture skills to the test, Miss Ariadne."
Ariadne smiled back, though at the same time she felt a prickle of apprehension. "I think I'm up to the challenge."
"I have some ideas, if you want to see them," Nash suggested. He jerked his thumb towards the PASIV in the corner.
Charla pushed to her feet. "I think I'll join you. It will be good practice for all of us."
Yusuf shuffled through the bottles on his table and pushed one to the front. "Try using this. It should be the clearest one yet."
Ariade picked up the bottle, but no amount of staring helped it look any different than the Somnacin they'd always used. "All right." She carried it to the PASIV and switched it in, preparing the machine as Arthur had showed her. "Who's going to be the subject?"
"I can be both," Nash said as he limped to his lawn chair and stretched out. "That way I can keep changing things without worrying about your projections."
Ariadne programmed in the proper delay--as Arthur had taught her just the day before--and handed out the needles. The prospect of being in the dream of someone new was exciting, and she did her best to clear her mind and stay focused as they all settled in. When they were ready she pressed the plunger, and sighed with the familiar sensation of enveloping darkness. For a few short moments she felt adrift, silent and peaceful and home, and then she opened her eyes to Nash's dream.
The city air hit her hard, sharp and almost burning. All around she could hear people muttering, engines growling, bodies scraping, every sound like a separate particle bouncing off her already sweat-moistened skin. Smoke clung to her tongue and nostrils, and when she opened her eyes, sunlight reflected off every surface and directly into her brain.
Ariadne stepped back, and when she felt cold stone behind her she leaned gratefully against it. She rubbed her face and took long, slow breaths, concentrating on one after the other until she became accustomed to the unfamiliar intensity of the dream. She had just about found her footing when a hand touched her shoulder.
"It's really something, huh?" Nash said, and she jumped as if he had spoken right beside her ear. "Yusuf's work, I mean."
"Yeah..." Ariadne pushed her hair out of her face and at long last was able to sort her senses into order. "Wow. It's like I can feel...everything." She had never considered that her dreams were less than clear before, but for a moment she was convinced she could feel every hair on her body, pick out every voice in the crowded streets. She breathed it in and felt exhilarated, and when she took a closer look at the actual cityscape, she was amazed all over again.
The city was close to being normal. Rows of apartment buildings crouched close together under a perfect, cloudless sky, their balconies overflowing with cramped furniture, potted plants, and articles of clothing. The streets were narrow and every so often a tree struggled out of the alley shadows. It would have been like any other city if not for the shapes binding the roads and buildings together: curves. Every building was a half circle, every street an S. It unnerved her in a way she never would have expected, seeing even that simple alteration in geometry.
"Wow," she said again. "That is kind of freaky, to be honest."
"Isn't it?" Nash smiled at his curved city proudly. "It's Cairo, mostly. I spent a lot of years here."
"Isn't it not a good idea to..." She glanced to him, and realized for the first time that his scars were gone, and his arm was no longer in a cast. She cleared her throat and continued. "To draw from memory? In case you lose track of the fact that you're really in a dream."
"Oh yeah--you're talking about Totems, right?" Nash shook his head. "Arthur mentioned it to me the first time we worked together, but I don't really have a need for something like that." He glanced down at his hand, stretching and curling the fingers as if getting used to it again.
Ariadne watched him, not sure how to respond. "I guess not."
Nash shook his hand out and took in a deep breath. "Dreaming is the best I can do to feel normal now," he admitted quietly. "That's why this job is so important for me. I have to prove myself to Dr. Banks." He faced Ariadne with sudden animation. "She's got an institute for training legal dreamers back in the states, and she's helping me get in."
Legal dreaming? Ariadne perked with great interest. "So you're going to get a PASIV license? I guess that means you'll have to give up this back alley extraction business."
"Not necessarily."
Ariadne turned, and was surprised to see Arthur striding up to them. He was slickly dressed as always, but there was something lighter and almost mischievous in his face. "Plenty of extractors have a legal PASIV license, myself included."
Ariadne eyed him in confusion. "I thought you were taking another hour."
"No rest for the wicked," he replied, and winked. "Come on, let's take a look around."
Did he just wink at me? Ariadne made a face, but fell into step next to him, with Nash on her left. "So you're feeling better?"
"Perfect," he said. He cast her a sly glance. "Thanks to you."
Ariadne couldn't help but blush, but as she continued to stare at him, and Nash whistled innocently on her left, she caught on. "You're a forger?"
"And you know what a forger is?" Charla returned, her smile false and a little eerie on Arthur's face. "I'm starting to think you're not nearly as green as you originally let on, Ariadne."
Ariadne blushed harder and glanced at Nash, who looked too amused for her liking. "Well, I..."
"Why don't you tell me," Charla prodded, "how you and Arthur actually met?"
Why do I feel like I'm being interrogated all of a sudden? Ariadne tried to puzzle out her expression, but it was too difficult to make sense of it given the canvas. Of course I can't tell her the truth, but...maybe part of it? Just to see what she'll say. She straightened and did her best to appear completely casual. "Well to be honest, I was introduced to him by Mr. Cobb."
Nash's interest appeared piqued. "So you have done extraction before?"
"Not exactly." I wonder if she really knows, Ariadne thought vaguely. That inception is possible. That'd have to be worth something to the person who invented dreamshare. "He needed my help as an architect, so I made a few models for him. I picked up a few details about dreaming on the way."
"Mr. Cobb." Charla's humor had abruptly faded, and her serious, forward gaze was much more fitting to her appearance. "So, Arthur and Mr. Cobb were working together?"
"Well, yes." Was I not supposed to say that? "I guess."
"From what I've heard, they have for a long time," Nash added. "They were when I worked with them."
"I see." Charla frowned. "I had heard rumors myself, but I dismissed them as I was not aware the two of them were back on speaking terms."
Ariadne's curiosity bubbled. "I wasn't aware they ever weren't."
Charla fell silent. Ariadne and Nash exchanged awkward glances, and when it stretched for too long Nash cleared his throat. "Um, anyway, I had an idea," he said. "Since Fischer's trained, the projections are going to be extra violent, but if some of us are going down two levels, we'll need a way to protect them. But the projections will be looking for the dreamer, right?"
Ariadne followed his train of thought easily. "So we're going to separate? But that will leave the level two dreamers unguarded, won't it?"
"Yeah, but...here, let me show you." Nash pointed ahead of them, and the sidewalk sank in chunks to create a subway entrance. He led them underground to an old train platform that looked as if it had not been used for years. "What if we make a network under the city?" he suggested, indicating the darkened subway tunnels. "We can dream up some kind of vehicle to move some of us around, while the dreamer distracts the projections up top."
Ariadne moved to the edge of the platform and looked up and down the tunnel. "Huh. That could work. Though that still means I have to fight off an army alone." She frowned thoughtfully as she thought through Nash's idea, already forming ideas for how the structure could be made, how to be assured of the safety of the dreamers.
"It's not going to be an easy job, no matter how you look at it," Charla said. "But I'll leave this part to you two architects. I have other things to work on." She opened the front of her suit and pulled a revolver out of the holster against her ribs. "I think I'll duck out here."
Ariadne winced, anticipating a sharp gunshot, but then she realized that Charla was offering the weapon--handle first--to her. She glanced between it and its supplier blankly. "What?"
"If this is your first time in the field, you're going to have to do this sooner or later," Charla said, watching her with almost unblinking scrutiny. "Have you ever even fired a gun before?"
"Sort of..." Ariadne gulped and accepted the gun, turning it over in her hands. "I just cock the hammer and pull the trigger, right?" she joked.
Charla stared back evenly. "Yes."
It's just a dream. Ariadne fit the grip to her hand and gave it a squeeze. She's right--if I'm going to fight off projections I'm going to have to kill them. She lifted the gun, but when she aimed it at Charla--Arthur--her hand trembled. "You're sure?"
"Yes." Charla stepped closer, and nudged the muzzle of the gun up until it was pressed against her forehead. "If you don't kill me in one shot, please make sure you do in two."
Ariadne grimaced at the image her words conjured. Is she playing with me? She forced her thumb to the hammer and pulled it back until it clicked. Just do it. You were able to shoot Mal just fine, right? This isn't Arthur--look, she's not even that great of a forger, certainly not as good as Eames. You can totally tell it's her. And even if it was him it wouldn't matter, this is just a dream!
Arthur's eyes watched her. Her heart thudded, and just when she thought she wouldn't be able to do it, she slipped her finger over the trigger and pulled hard.
Blood and bone sprayed the stone pillar behind Charla, and a moment later her body--her own, female body--crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap. Ariadne did not continue to breathe until after she had nudged the prone form with her toe to make sure she was really dead. "Holy shit," she muttered, taking a few steps back as she lowered the gun and regained her composure.
Nash moved beside her. "You okay?"
"Yeah." She took in a deep breath, looked between the body and the gun, and then let it out. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a dream, right?" She shoved the gun at him. "Why don't you take this, though?"
"Yeah, sure." Nash accepted the revolver and checked to see how many shots were left. "But you know, we can just wait out the time--"
"Yeah, that's fine," she said quickly. She turned away from the mess. "Let's go back up top and talk out our strategy, okay? Just in case your dream cops find this...or something."
"Sure."
Nash led the way away from the platform, and Ariadne followed close behind. She refused to glance back, however badly she was tempted.
***
It was after two in the morning when Arthur finally emerged from his room, and when he realized, he grumbled a curse under his breath. What happened to an hour? He rubbed the back of his neck and returned to the work room, where he found the casualties to be great: Charla and Nash were gone, and Ariadne was asleep at her desk, head pillowed on folded arms and a layer of papers. Only Yusuf was left awake, eating from a bowl of chili as he scratched notes in his books.
"You were supposed to wake me," Arthur said, stopping next to Yusuf's table.
"I didn't have the heart." Yusuf set down his spoon and pen so he could face Arthur with a serious look. "I'm sorry. You wouldn't be in so much pain if my compound had been clearer."
Arthur shook his head. "I'm fine now. As long as you've thought of a solution, that is."
"I have!" Yusuf quickly assured. He turned his notebook towards Arthur and began pointing out a series of complicated formulas and calculations. "By increasing the amount of Borocin to point eight milliliters per sample, and lowering the amount of--"
Arthur held up his hand. "Details are going to give me another migraine," he said. "I trust you."
"In that case." Yusuf gestured toward the crock pot. "There's still plenty left."
"Isn't it a little late for that?"
Yusuf picked his spoon back up and continued to eat. "It's keeping me awake," he confessed. "I want to finish this before going to bed, and it's going to take a while longer."
Arthur eyed the pot. I should stay up to make up for the time I've lost, he thought with a frown, and after some deliberation he spooned himself a bowl as well. The first taste made his tongue tingle, but once the warmth hit his stomach he found he felt better for it.
"I guess I should wake her up," he said, casting another glance at Ariadne as he took a seat next to Yusuf.
"You're not going to let her go home at this hour, are you?" Yusuf asked. "You might as well let her sleep, or just move her to the back room."
"You're right." Arthur continued to eat, appreciating the bold and spicy flavor more and more with each bite, even if it his palette wasn't used to it. "I hope she and Nash worked well enough together...?"
"Yes, very well." Yusuf replaced his glasses and went back to scribbling in his book. "They've come up with an intriguing layout for the first level that I think you'll appreciate. But Ariadne is still a little nervous about holding down the fort by herself."
He nodded thoughtfully, and looked to her again. She was still fast asleep, a small lock of hair tucked daintily in the corner of her mouth. "I'll work with her on it," he said distractedly.
Yusuf glanced at him. After a few moments of silence he asked, "Something on your mind?"
"I was thinking about something Saito told me," Arthur said. "About inception."
"Oh?"
"He said we do it every day," he recalled. "We 'plant seeds in each other's minds,' without even meaning to."
Yusuf leaned back in his chair and gave Arthur his full attention. "And do you believe that?"
"I didn't at first. But now...I wonder." Arthur watched the calmly sleeping Ariadne as he spoke, his voice distant. "Haven't you ever said the wrong thing to someone and ruined a relationship?"
"Oh yes," Yusuf said, smiling dryly. "That, I have done."
"Sometimes, all it takes is a few words to change everything," Arthur went on. "I could tell her the truth, or even a lie, and either way I couldn't take it back. Especially if I told her the truth. She'd never look at me the same way." His eyes narrowed. "She might even think back on everything we've done together, reevaluating her memories with new bias. I could change her entire life, everything she thinks and does from now on--everything she thought she knew."
He turned to Yusuf. "If just a few words can change a person that much, isn't that just like inception?"
Yusuf regarded him with raised eyebrows. "Not hardly. There's nothing illegal about telling a pretty girl you want to sleep with her."
Arthur gave him a look, and Yusuf leaned back. "Assuming, of course, that you're well acquainted," he added. "Hopefully with some confidence in her answer, which in this case..."
Arthur sighed and pushed to his feet. "Finish your chili, Yusuf. When you're done I want to go under again."
"I would have said 'love,'" Yusuf teased after him, "but I didn't want to be too presumptuous."
Arthur glared at him again, and then leaned over Ariadne. He gave her shoulder a gentle shake and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't stir. Fast asleep. Thank God. "Come on, Ariadne," he murmured, easing her away from the table. "Let's find you a proper bed."
Ariadne grumbled something in her sleep, and started to wake as Arthur drew her gently into his arms. "Shh," he hushed. "You're still dreaming." She relaxed, and he carried her across the room towards the bedroom--sure to pass Yusuf another sharp look on the way, who only smirked and went back to his meal.
Presumptuous, Arthur thought as he nudged the door open with his toe and stepped inside. Indeed. He carried Ariadne to the bed and set her carefully down, drawing a blanket over her. He can joke but I'm sure he understands what I mean. Just by being involved with us, she's not the same person she was. And if she stays with us...
Arthur watched her a moment, remembering the gentle pressure of her lips on his, her hand on his chest as she leaned over him. She was beautiful, and brilliant, and he knew she was tempted. And I probably shouldn't let her anywhere near my subconscious for a while, he thought with half a smile. If she hasn't seen through me already.
Arthur tucked her in, and just as he turned to leave, his phone rang from the bedside table. He snatched it up and answered quickly without looking to see who it was. "Yes?"
"It's me," the voice on the other end whispered. "Can you talk?"
Arthur frowned, and it took him a moment to identify the caller. "Eames? Why are you whispering?"
"Why are you whispering?"
He stopped himself before he could give Eames unnecessary information. "Never mind that." He glanced to Ariadne, who had rolled onto her side but was still asleep, and moved toward the door. "What do you want?"
"When you looked into Fisher's history, did you check Browning's accounts too?"
Arthur stopped short. "What?"
"You didn't find any evidence in Fischer's history that suggested he'd been trained," Eames continued. "But I'm wondering now if Browning, or even Fischer Sr., arranged for it without Fischer knowing. Did you investigate either of them?"
Arthur peeked through the door to where Yusuf was still working, and then back at the slumbering Ariadne, and decided to stay put. "You know I did," he said. "I didn't find anything there either."
Eames hummed thoughtfully. "Email me the account numbers, and I'll take a look myself. There might be a courtesy number in there you're not familiar with."
"Why?" He stared fixedly at the floor, determined not to say anything he didn't want to. "What difference does it make now?"
"I have to know if he really was trained or not." There was eagerness in Eames's tone that Arthur hadn't heard in a long time. "He says he never was, but if that's the case, his abilities are far beyond that of a normal person after a single exposure to dreamshare. It may even be that he has received some extra experience since the inception, as his security is far more advanced now than it--"
"Wait, wait," Arthur interrupted. "What do you mean he 'says'?"
"Well..." Eames stalled--never a good sign. "I asked him."
"You asked him? What the hell is the matter with you?" When he remembered where he was he turned toward the corner. "Damn it, Eames, tell me you're not whispering because you're hiding in the man's closet or something."
"Spare bedroom," Eames replied. "But listen, you wouldn't believe what I saw in him tonight. Not only was he much more lucid than he was during the inception, he retained several key elements. He reconstructed my level three fortress. Not with perfect accuracy, of course, but the fact that his subconscious mind remembers it at all is--I don't have to tell you--extraordinary. Even your star pupil Ariadne didn't pick it up that quickly, I'll warrant."
Arthur rubbed his eyes. There isn't enough chili in the world for this headache. "You've been back in his mind?" he asked, with a degree of control he was surprised he had. "You do realize that you're putting all of us at risk by being anywhere near Fischer, don't you? What are you thinking?"
Eames was quiet another moment, and when he continued his excitement had subdued. "Yes, I know--I got that lecture from Cobb already. But this man is in trouble, Arthur. And don't tell me 'that was the plan' because I've heard that verse, too."
He leaned against the wall. "Go on."
"The inception has fully infected him," Eames obliged, "with obvious signs as shallow as his first level of dreaming. Browning has done an excellent job of hiding it from the press but the effects are showing in his daily behavior as well. It's going to escalate, I'm sure of it." He hesitated, and added, "Browning is calling in Dr. Banks to look at him."
Arthur tensed at the name. "And that worries you."
"Come on, Arthur, I know you're the 'teacher's pet' but doesn't that worry you?"
"Why would it? If he's as damaged as you say, only Dr. Banks is qualified to treat him."
"No," Eames said immediately. "I don't trust her."
One more obstacle, Arthur thought with a sigh. How are we going to get to Fischer with Eames babysitting him? "Tell me one more time why you care what happens to Fischer anyway."
"Why do you care that I care?" Eames retorted. "I'm not trying to get you involved, I just want the account numbers."
"I'm not handing you another man's identity just so you can indulge your once-in-a-blue-moon white knight complex."
"This isn't like Dubai," Eames insisted. "I just want to know for sure if there have been erxtractors in Fischer's mind before, since you buggered it up the first time."
Arthur clenched his jaw. I did not screw up. "Then find your own numbers, because I'm not giving you anything. That's not how I do business."
"What?"
"You heard me."
Arthur felt nerves creep up on him in the silence that followed. This job just keeps getting worse, he thought miserably. If Eames is right and the inception is that apparent, Charla will notice as soon as we're under. If we can even get under.
"What are you hiding from me?" Eames asked abruptly.
Damn it, Eames. "What do you mean?"
Eames's voice lowered coldly. "You're a damn fine liar, Arthur. But you know I'm better."
"Having professional integrity doesn't make me a liar," he said defensively.
"You trained Robert Fischer."
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. Though his mind reeled he did his best to keep his voice even. "Don't be ridiculous."
"You knew he was trained, and you didn't warn us?" He scoffed. "You and Cobb deserve each other after all."
"You're jumping to conclusions--"
"I am going to get into those accounts," Eames continued, "and I'm going to find you there, aren't I? I have ways of my own and you know I can spot your footprints anywhere."
Arthur paled a little when he realized...Eames was right. They knew each other's tells and once Eames had access there was nothing to prevent him from finding what he wanted to find. When he followed the thought to its logical end, his chest tightened. "Eames."
"What?"
He squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't tell Cobb."
Eames snorted. "I should have known I couldn't trust you."
"Eames--" But Eames hung up.
"Shit," Arthur hissed. He hung up, and stared down at his phone for several long moments as if expecting it to ring again. When it didn't, he sighed and sank onto the edge of the bed. Eames didn't bother him--Fischer didn't bother him--but the thought of Cobb sitting down to dinner with his children and receiving an unexpected phone call made him sick to his stomach. He set the phone down and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to just be still and think, to make everything fit in his brain as was supposed to be his specialty.
The mattress shifted, and though he was embarrassed to remember he was not alone, nothing could have been more comforting than the warm body that leaned into his back.
"You okay?" Ariadne asked quietly.
"Yeah." Arthur glanced at her over his shoulder. "Sorry I woke you."
She shook her head. "What did Eames say?"
He looked away, but her hand on his back was more than enough encouragement. "He's been spying on Fischer," he explained. "From the sound of it he's even been in his mind recently, and he's worried about what he found. It's possible that the inception didn't just change his mind, it's...degrading it." He swallowed hard. "Like it did Mal."
Ariadne fidgeted. "So...Cobb told you after all."
Unease crept back into his stomach. "No, I figured it out on my own. Sounds like he told you, though."
"Arthur..."
"No, it's all right. With Cobb and me, it's...complicated." Arthur scraped the back of his hand over his mouth and continued. "Anyway, if Fischer doesn't get help before the symptoms become severe, it will already be too late. Better that he go to Dr. Banks now, even if it means exposing the inception to her. Like I told Eames, she's the only one that knows enough about dreamshare to help him."
"So." Ariadne took in a deep breath. "We're going through with it."
"Yes." He leaned into her, and she welcomed him. "Which means...it's time I told you everything."
To Chapter 6
One can only hope.
EDIT: LOL we were all wrong, apparently.
Fandom: Inception
Title: The Helix Trap
Chapter: 5/19 (5,796 words) (For other parts please check my My main post)
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Eames/Robert, Arthur/Ariadne, Cobb, Yusuf, Saito, Browning, and others.
Warnings: Violence, sexual content.
Disclaimer: These characters and setting do not belong to me and are being used without permission but for no profit
Summary: After the Inception proves successful, Eames tracks down Robert out of concern for its unusual side effects. Meanwhile, Arthur is hired to a dangerous job that forces the rest of the team to take sides: whether to defend Robert and his fragile mind, or ruin him completely.
Notes: C&C Welcome and appreciated. To my beta, chypie, thanks for your input!
It was after nine when Ariadne made it to the warehouse. She was exhausted after a long day of group work and presentations, but it never occurred to her not to go. Just knowing that the rest of her team was hard at work put her in an anxious state, and she was eager to see what they had come up with in her absence.
"Arthur?" She gave a little shake to the dessert box she was carrying as she entered the main workroom. "Yusuf? I brought dessert."
"Mm! Ariadne!" Yusuf called. "We weren't sure you were coming."
A strong, spicy aroma tickled her nostrils as she approached, and she quickly spotted the source: a crock pot had been added to the rice and coffee makers in Arthur's makeshift kitchen, and it hissed as something tasty simmered within. As she came closer, she finally got a better view of the room.
Yusuf had taken over the room's largest table, covering it with various bottles, glass instruments, and composition books. The card table next to it was host to several strewn pieces of draft paper covered in sketches, with Nash leaning over them. His hand moved in wide arcs, carving bold lines, and Ariadne couldn't help but wince at the smears he was making and the disarray of his workspace. Charla was seated nearby, reading from an open file as she sipped what looked like some kind of tea.
"Sorry I'm late," Ariadne said, dropping her purse near Nash's table. After a quick glance around she found a space for her box next to the crock pot, and couldn't help but peek under the lid. "What's cooking?"
"It's turkey chili," Nash replied, erasing furiously. "Or, it was, when I started it."
Yusuf took off his glasses and joined Ariadne so he could stir the pot. "I made some improvements," he told her with an all-knowing nod.
Ariadne smiled. "Well I hope it pairs well with tiramisu." She glanced around the room again but still did not see the last member of their group. "Where's Arthur?"
"Trying to sleep off a migraine in the next room." Yusuf tested a spoonful of the chili before moving on to Ariadne's dessert. "I was supposed to wake him up twenty minutes ago, but I was waiting for the food to be ready."
"Setting his mouth on fire won't cure his headache," Nash said dryly.
Charla smiled but did not look up. "So long as the ingredients were fresh and it doesn't contain caffeine or alcohol, eating something nutritious might help."
Ariadne glanced between them and smirked, wishing she had been able to come sooner. "I think I'll peek in on him," she said. "Help yourself to the cake."
"And it is nutritious," Yusuf continued as she moved away. "I had that in mind when I made my alterations. Cooking is not unlike chemistry, you know, especially when you only have one pot to work with. Did you know that..."
Ariadne shook her head, still smiling, but once she reached the far room she sobered. Being mindful of Arthur's probable state she skipped knocking, and instead opened the door a crack to peek inside. Arthur was stretched out on his stomach on the short bed, fully dressed except for bare feet. He seemed to be sound asleep, but when Ariadne started to close the door again he stirred. "Yusuf...?"
"It's me," Ariadne whispered. She slipped inside and closed the door so that only a sliver of light could sneak through. On tiptoes she moved to crouch at his bedside. "I heard you weren't feeling well."
Arthur groaned, and rubbed his eyes as he rolled onto his back. "Overworked myself," he grumbled. "What time is it?"
"About nine-twenty." Once Arthur had settled, Ariadne moved to the edge of the mattress so they could better see each other. "Yusuf is threatening to cure you with chili. Feel up to it?"
He groaned again, and Ariadne winced in sympathy. "I have some aspirin in my purse," she said. "Can I get you some water?"
"No, I'm all right." Arthur ran a hand over his scalp and looked up at Ariadne with a faint smile. "But unless they need me I think I'll hide out a while longer."
She smiled back. "I think we'll manage. I have a few mazes doodled in my notebook already that I can work on. Unless we're using Nash's, that is." Though she had yet to see his work, the sight of his table space had not been encouraging.
He saw through her hesitation easily. "I hate to admit it, but Nash really has improved since I worked with him," he said diplomatically. "But I still trust your architecture over his. If you're going to be around for a while, you should work with him. It'll be his job to match your dream down to the smallest detail."
"So he is going to be one of our dreamers?"
"Yes." Arthur smothered a yawn against the back of his hand. "He and Yusuf can give you the details. I'll come out in an hour to see how it's going."
"All right."
Ariadne leaned back. It seemed she had received her cue to leave, but at the same time, the look Arthur was fixing her with looked unmistakably like an invitation. She was tempted--after her long day, an hour to sleep in even a lumpy bed next to a warm body would have been heavenly. And he wants me to, she thought, recognizing very well the subtle gleam in his sleepy eyes. A little kiss, a few sideways looks, a seemingly innocent touch. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. You do like me, don’t you, Arthur?
She scooted closer. She set her hand on his chest and felt him tense, just slightly, beneath it. With her breath held she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. When she leaned back, she was grinning. "All better?"
Arthur watched her very closely. "Getting there."
"If you're not up in an hour, I'll try again," Ariadne said. She gave him a pat and stood, taking some pleasure in his look of mixed disappointment and anticipation. "Get some rest--I'll save you some cake."
His eyebrow twitched, and it seemed like such a perfect moment, she slipped out before he could reply.
I knew it, she thought as she closed the door behind her and headed back to the others. Like hell it didn't occur to you.
"How is he?" Yusuf asked as she rejoined them, plucking the last crumbs off his paper plate.
"He's taking another hour."
Ariadne stepped up behind Nash, and when he noticed her there, he started. "What?"
"I just wanted a peek," Ariadne said, smiling--whatever her fatigue had been coming in, she was in a much better mood. "Arthur said you and I are going to be working together?"
"Oh...yeah." Nash fumbled with the papers using his one good hand, and when a few designs threatened to slip off the table Ariadne hurried to catch them. He winced. "Sorry."
"It's okay." She righted the papers and flipped through them, and immediately noticed a peculiar pattern. "They're all circular."
"Yeah. It's a little weird, I know." Nash motioned for her to put one down, and he traced out a curving path through the lines with his finger. "But it'll be harder for Fischer's subconscious to follow us in a round maze, won't it? And it will be easier for him to figure out that he's dreaming."
"Easier to figure it out?" Ariadne repeated. "I thought that's what we don't want."
Charla closed her file and set it aside. "What's most important is that he accepts the second level as reality," she explained. "For that, we're going to let him discover that the first level is a dream, and "wake" from it into level two."
Ariadne could hear Arthur's voice in her head proclaiming it a bad idea. "But doesn't that mean his projections will be that much more violent? He's already been trained to hunt us down. I don't know if I'll be able to protect the rest of you by myself against all that."
"That's why our escape routes will have to be complex, and unexpected." Charla smiled at her. "We'll very much be putting your architecture skills to the test, Miss Ariadne."
Ariadne smiled back, though at the same time she felt a prickle of apprehension. "I think I'm up to the challenge."
"I have some ideas, if you want to see them," Nash suggested. He jerked his thumb towards the PASIV in the corner.
Charla pushed to her feet. "I think I'll join you. It will be good practice for all of us."
Yusuf shuffled through the bottles on his table and pushed one to the front. "Try using this. It should be the clearest one yet."
Ariade picked up the bottle, but no amount of staring helped it look any different than the Somnacin they'd always used. "All right." She carried it to the PASIV and switched it in, preparing the machine as Arthur had showed her. "Who's going to be the subject?"
"I can be both," Nash said as he limped to his lawn chair and stretched out. "That way I can keep changing things without worrying about your projections."
Ariadne programmed in the proper delay--as Arthur had taught her just the day before--and handed out the needles. The prospect of being in the dream of someone new was exciting, and she did her best to clear her mind and stay focused as they all settled in. When they were ready she pressed the plunger, and sighed with the familiar sensation of enveloping darkness. For a few short moments she felt adrift, silent and peaceful and home, and then she opened her eyes to Nash's dream.
The city air hit her hard, sharp and almost burning. All around she could hear people muttering, engines growling, bodies scraping, every sound like a separate particle bouncing off her already sweat-moistened skin. Smoke clung to her tongue and nostrils, and when she opened her eyes, sunlight reflected off every surface and directly into her brain.
Ariadne stepped back, and when she felt cold stone behind her she leaned gratefully against it. She rubbed her face and took long, slow breaths, concentrating on one after the other until she became accustomed to the unfamiliar intensity of the dream. She had just about found her footing when a hand touched her shoulder.
"It's really something, huh?" Nash said, and she jumped as if he had spoken right beside her ear. "Yusuf's work, I mean."
"Yeah..." Ariadne pushed her hair out of her face and at long last was able to sort her senses into order. "Wow. It's like I can feel...everything." She had never considered that her dreams were less than clear before, but for a moment she was convinced she could feel every hair on her body, pick out every voice in the crowded streets. She breathed it in and felt exhilarated, and when she took a closer look at the actual cityscape, she was amazed all over again.
The city was close to being normal. Rows of apartment buildings crouched close together under a perfect, cloudless sky, their balconies overflowing with cramped furniture, potted plants, and articles of clothing. The streets were narrow and every so often a tree struggled out of the alley shadows. It would have been like any other city if not for the shapes binding the roads and buildings together: curves. Every building was a half circle, every street an S. It unnerved her in a way she never would have expected, seeing even that simple alteration in geometry.
"Wow," she said again. "That is kind of freaky, to be honest."
"Isn't it?" Nash smiled at his curved city proudly. "It's Cairo, mostly. I spent a lot of years here."
"Isn't it not a good idea to..." She glanced to him, and realized for the first time that his scars were gone, and his arm was no longer in a cast. She cleared her throat and continued. "To draw from memory? In case you lose track of the fact that you're really in a dream."
"Oh yeah--you're talking about Totems, right?" Nash shook his head. "Arthur mentioned it to me the first time we worked together, but I don't really have a need for something like that." He glanced down at his hand, stretching and curling the fingers as if getting used to it again.
Ariadne watched him, not sure how to respond. "I guess not."
Nash shook his hand out and took in a deep breath. "Dreaming is the best I can do to feel normal now," he admitted quietly. "That's why this job is so important for me. I have to prove myself to Dr. Banks." He faced Ariadne with sudden animation. "She's got an institute for training legal dreamers back in the states, and she's helping me get in."
Legal dreaming? Ariadne perked with great interest. "So you're going to get a PASIV license? I guess that means you'll have to give up this back alley extraction business."
"Not necessarily."
Ariadne turned, and was surprised to see Arthur striding up to them. He was slickly dressed as always, but there was something lighter and almost mischievous in his face. "Plenty of extractors have a legal PASIV license, myself included."
Ariadne eyed him in confusion. "I thought you were taking another hour."
"No rest for the wicked," he replied, and winked. "Come on, let's take a look around."
Did he just wink at me? Ariadne made a face, but fell into step next to him, with Nash on her left. "So you're feeling better?"
"Perfect," he said. He cast her a sly glance. "Thanks to you."
Ariadne couldn't help but blush, but as she continued to stare at him, and Nash whistled innocently on her left, she caught on. "You're a forger?"
"And you know what a forger is?" Charla returned, her smile false and a little eerie on Arthur's face. "I'm starting to think you're not nearly as green as you originally let on, Ariadne."
Ariadne blushed harder and glanced at Nash, who looked too amused for her liking. "Well, I..."
"Why don't you tell me," Charla prodded, "how you and Arthur actually met?"
Why do I feel like I'm being interrogated all of a sudden? Ariadne tried to puzzle out her expression, but it was too difficult to make sense of it given the canvas. Of course I can't tell her the truth, but...maybe part of it? Just to see what she'll say. She straightened and did her best to appear completely casual. "Well to be honest, I was introduced to him by Mr. Cobb."
Nash's interest appeared piqued. "So you have done extraction before?"
"Not exactly." I wonder if she really knows, Ariadne thought vaguely. That inception is possible. That'd have to be worth something to the person who invented dreamshare. "He needed my help as an architect, so I made a few models for him. I picked up a few details about dreaming on the way."
"Mr. Cobb." Charla's humor had abruptly faded, and her serious, forward gaze was much more fitting to her appearance. "So, Arthur and Mr. Cobb were working together?"
"Well, yes." Was I not supposed to say that? "I guess."
"From what I've heard, they have for a long time," Nash added. "They were when I worked with them."
"I see." Charla frowned. "I had heard rumors myself, but I dismissed them as I was not aware the two of them were back on speaking terms."
Ariadne's curiosity bubbled. "I wasn't aware they ever weren't."
Charla fell silent. Ariadne and Nash exchanged awkward glances, and when it stretched for too long Nash cleared his throat. "Um, anyway, I had an idea," he said. "Since Fischer's trained, the projections are going to be extra violent, but if some of us are going down two levels, we'll need a way to protect them. But the projections will be looking for the dreamer, right?"
Ariadne followed his train of thought easily. "So we're going to separate? But that will leave the level two dreamers unguarded, won't it?"
"Yeah, but...here, let me show you." Nash pointed ahead of them, and the sidewalk sank in chunks to create a subway entrance. He led them underground to an old train platform that looked as if it had not been used for years. "What if we make a network under the city?" he suggested, indicating the darkened subway tunnels. "We can dream up some kind of vehicle to move some of us around, while the dreamer distracts the projections up top."
Ariadne moved to the edge of the platform and looked up and down the tunnel. "Huh. That could work. Though that still means I have to fight off an army alone." She frowned thoughtfully as she thought through Nash's idea, already forming ideas for how the structure could be made, how to be assured of the safety of the dreamers.
"It's not going to be an easy job, no matter how you look at it," Charla said. "But I'll leave this part to you two architects. I have other things to work on." She opened the front of her suit and pulled a revolver out of the holster against her ribs. "I think I'll duck out here."
Ariadne winced, anticipating a sharp gunshot, but then she realized that Charla was offering the weapon--handle first--to her. She glanced between it and its supplier blankly. "What?"
"If this is your first time in the field, you're going to have to do this sooner or later," Charla said, watching her with almost unblinking scrutiny. "Have you ever even fired a gun before?"
"Sort of..." Ariadne gulped and accepted the gun, turning it over in her hands. "I just cock the hammer and pull the trigger, right?" she joked.
Charla stared back evenly. "Yes."
It's just a dream. Ariadne fit the grip to her hand and gave it a squeeze. She's right--if I'm going to fight off projections I'm going to have to kill them. She lifted the gun, but when she aimed it at Charla--Arthur--her hand trembled. "You're sure?"
"Yes." Charla stepped closer, and nudged the muzzle of the gun up until it was pressed against her forehead. "If you don't kill me in one shot, please make sure you do in two."
Ariadne grimaced at the image her words conjured. Is she playing with me? She forced her thumb to the hammer and pulled it back until it clicked. Just do it. You were able to shoot Mal just fine, right? This isn't Arthur--look, she's not even that great of a forger, certainly not as good as Eames. You can totally tell it's her. And even if it was him it wouldn't matter, this is just a dream!
Arthur's eyes watched her. Her heart thudded, and just when she thought she wouldn't be able to do it, she slipped her finger over the trigger and pulled hard.
Blood and bone sprayed the stone pillar behind Charla, and a moment later her body--her own, female body--crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap. Ariadne did not continue to breathe until after she had nudged the prone form with her toe to make sure she was really dead. "Holy shit," she muttered, taking a few steps back as she lowered the gun and regained her composure.
Nash moved beside her. "You okay?"
"Yeah." She took in a deep breath, looked between the body and the gun, and then let it out. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a dream, right?" She shoved the gun at him. "Why don't you take this, though?"
"Yeah, sure." Nash accepted the revolver and checked to see how many shots were left. "But you know, we can just wait out the time--"
"Yeah, that's fine," she said quickly. She turned away from the mess. "Let's go back up top and talk out our strategy, okay? Just in case your dream cops find this...or something."
"Sure."
Nash led the way away from the platform, and Ariadne followed close behind. She refused to glance back, however badly she was tempted.
***
It was after two in the morning when Arthur finally emerged from his room, and when he realized, he grumbled a curse under his breath. What happened to an hour? He rubbed the back of his neck and returned to the work room, where he found the casualties to be great: Charla and Nash were gone, and Ariadne was asleep at her desk, head pillowed on folded arms and a layer of papers. Only Yusuf was left awake, eating from a bowl of chili as he scratched notes in his books.
"You were supposed to wake me," Arthur said, stopping next to Yusuf's table.
"I didn't have the heart." Yusuf set down his spoon and pen so he could face Arthur with a serious look. "I'm sorry. You wouldn't be in so much pain if my compound had been clearer."
Arthur shook his head. "I'm fine now. As long as you've thought of a solution, that is."
"I have!" Yusuf quickly assured. He turned his notebook towards Arthur and began pointing out a series of complicated formulas and calculations. "By increasing the amount of Borocin to point eight milliliters per sample, and lowering the amount of--"
Arthur held up his hand. "Details are going to give me another migraine," he said. "I trust you."
"In that case." Yusuf gestured toward the crock pot. "There's still plenty left."
"Isn't it a little late for that?"
Yusuf picked his spoon back up and continued to eat. "It's keeping me awake," he confessed. "I want to finish this before going to bed, and it's going to take a while longer."
Arthur eyed the pot. I should stay up to make up for the time I've lost, he thought with a frown, and after some deliberation he spooned himself a bowl as well. The first taste made his tongue tingle, but once the warmth hit his stomach he found he felt better for it.
"I guess I should wake her up," he said, casting another glance at Ariadne as he took a seat next to Yusuf.
"You're not going to let her go home at this hour, are you?" Yusuf asked. "You might as well let her sleep, or just move her to the back room."
"You're right." Arthur continued to eat, appreciating the bold and spicy flavor more and more with each bite, even if it his palette wasn't used to it. "I hope she and Nash worked well enough together...?"
"Yes, very well." Yusuf replaced his glasses and went back to scribbling in his book. "They've come up with an intriguing layout for the first level that I think you'll appreciate. But Ariadne is still a little nervous about holding down the fort by herself."
He nodded thoughtfully, and looked to her again. She was still fast asleep, a small lock of hair tucked daintily in the corner of her mouth. "I'll work with her on it," he said distractedly.
Yusuf glanced at him. After a few moments of silence he asked, "Something on your mind?"
"I was thinking about something Saito told me," Arthur said. "About inception."
"Oh?"
"He said we do it every day," he recalled. "We 'plant seeds in each other's minds,' without even meaning to."
Yusuf leaned back in his chair and gave Arthur his full attention. "And do you believe that?"
"I didn't at first. But now...I wonder." Arthur watched the calmly sleeping Ariadne as he spoke, his voice distant. "Haven't you ever said the wrong thing to someone and ruined a relationship?"
"Oh yes," Yusuf said, smiling dryly. "That, I have done."
"Sometimes, all it takes is a few words to change everything," Arthur went on. "I could tell her the truth, or even a lie, and either way I couldn't take it back. Especially if I told her the truth. She'd never look at me the same way." His eyes narrowed. "She might even think back on everything we've done together, reevaluating her memories with new bias. I could change her entire life, everything she thinks and does from now on--everything she thought she knew."
He turned to Yusuf. "If just a few words can change a person that much, isn't that just like inception?"
Yusuf regarded him with raised eyebrows. "Not hardly. There's nothing illegal about telling a pretty girl you want to sleep with her."
Arthur gave him a look, and Yusuf leaned back. "Assuming, of course, that you're well acquainted," he added. "Hopefully with some confidence in her answer, which in this case..."
Arthur sighed and pushed to his feet. "Finish your chili, Yusuf. When you're done I want to go under again."
"I would have said 'love,'" Yusuf teased after him, "but I didn't want to be too presumptuous."
Arthur glared at him again, and then leaned over Ariadne. He gave her shoulder a gentle shake and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't stir. Fast asleep. Thank God. "Come on, Ariadne," he murmured, easing her away from the table. "Let's find you a proper bed."
Ariadne grumbled something in her sleep, and started to wake as Arthur drew her gently into his arms. "Shh," he hushed. "You're still dreaming." She relaxed, and he carried her across the room towards the bedroom--sure to pass Yusuf another sharp look on the way, who only smirked and went back to his meal.
Presumptuous, Arthur thought as he nudged the door open with his toe and stepped inside. Indeed. He carried Ariadne to the bed and set her carefully down, drawing a blanket over her. He can joke but I'm sure he understands what I mean. Just by being involved with us, she's not the same person she was. And if she stays with us...
Arthur watched her a moment, remembering the gentle pressure of her lips on his, her hand on his chest as she leaned over him. She was beautiful, and brilliant, and he knew she was tempted. And I probably shouldn't let her anywhere near my subconscious for a while, he thought with half a smile. If she hasn't seen through me already.
Arthur tucked her in, and just as he turned to leave, his phone rang from the bedside table. He snatched it up and answered quickly without looking to see who it was. "Yes?"
"It's me," the voice on the other end whispered. "Can you talk?"
Arthur frowned, and it took him a moment to identify the caller. "Eames? Why are you whispering?"
"Why are you whispering?"
He stopped himself before he could give Eames unnecessary information. "Never mind that." He glanced to Ariadne, who had rolled onto her side but was still asleep, and moved toward the door. "What do you want?"
"When you looked into Fisher's history, did you check Browning's accounts too?"
Arthur stopped short. "What?"
"You didn't find any evidence in Fischer's history that suggested he'd been trained," Eames continued. "But I'm wondering now if Browning, or even Fischer Sr., arranged for it without Fischer knowing. Did you investigate either of them?"
Arthur peeked through the door to where Yusuf was still working, and then back at the slumbering Ariadne, and decided to stay put. "You know I did," he said. "I didn't find anything there either."
Eames hummed thoughtfully. "Email me the account numbers, and I'll take a look myself. There might be a courtesy number in there you're not familiar with."
"Why?" He stared fixedly at the floor, determined not to say anything he didn't want to. "What difference does it make now?"
"I have to know if he really was trained or not." There was eagerness in Eames's tone that Arthur hadn't heard in a long time. "He says he never was, but if that's the case, his abilities are far beyond that of a normal person after a single exposure to dreamshare. It may even be that he has received some extra experience since the inception, as his security is far more advanced now than it--"
"Wait, wait," Arthur interrupted. "What do you mean he 'says'?"
"Well..." Eames stalled--never a good sign. "I asked him."
"You asked him? What the hell is the matter with you?" When he remembered where he was he turned toward the corner. "Damn it, Eames, tell me you're not whispering because you're hiding in the man's closet or something."
"Spare bedroom," Eames replied. "But listen, you wouldn't believe what I saw in him tonight. Not only was he much more lucid than he was during the inception, he retained several key elements. He reconstructed my level three fortress. Not with perfect accuracy, of course, but the fact that his subconscious mind remembers it at all is--I don't have to tell you--extraordinary. Even your star pupil Ariadne didn't pick it up that quickly, I'll warrant."
Arthur rubbed his eyes. There isn't enough chili in the world for this headache. "You've been back in his mind?" he asked, with a degree of control he was surprised he had. "You do realize that you're putting all of us at risk by being anywhere near Fischer, don't you? What are you thinking?"
Eames was quiet another moment, and when he continued his excitement had subdued. "Yes, I know--I got that lecture from Cobb already. But this man is in trouble, Arthur. And don't tell me 'that was the plan' because I've heard that verse, too."
He leaned against the wall. "Go on."
"The inception has fully infected him," Eames obliged, "with obvious signs as shallow as his first level of dreaming. Browning has done an excellent job of hiding it from the press but the effects are showing in his daily behavior as well. It's going to escalate, I'm sure of it." He hesitated, and added, "Browning is calling in Dr. Banks to look at him."
Arthur tensed at the name. "And that worries you."
"Come on, Arthur, I know you're the 'teacher's pet' but doesn't that worry you?"
"Why would it? If he's as damaged as you say, only Dr. Banks is qualified to treat him."
"No," Eames said immediately. "I don't trust her."
One more obstacle, Arthur thought with a sigh. How are we going to get to Fischer with Eames babysitting him? "Tell me one more time why you care what happens to Fischer anyway."
"Why do you care that I care?" Eames retorted. "I'm not trying to get you involved, I just want the account numbers."
"I'm not handing you another man's identity just so you can indulge your once-in-a-blue-moon white knight complex."
"This isn't like Dubai," Eames insisted. "I just want to know for sure if there have been erxtractors in Fischer's mind before, since you buggered it up the first time."
Arthur clenched his jaw. I did not screw up. "Then find your own numbers, because I'm not giving you anything. That's not how I do business."
"What?"
"You heard me."
Arthur felt nerves creep up on him in the silence that followed. This job just keeps getting worse, he thought miserably. If Eames is right and the inception is that apparent, Charla will notice as soon as we're under. If we can even get under.
"What are you hiding from me?" Eames asked abruptly.
Damn it, Eames. "What do you mean?"
Eames's voice lowered coldly. "You're a damn fine liar, Arthur. But you know I'm better."
"Having professional integrity doesn't make me a liar," he said defensively.
"You trained Robert Fischer."
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. Though his mind reeled he did his best to keep his voice even. "Don't be ridiculous."
"You knew he was trained, and you didn't warn us?" He scoffed. "You and Cobb deserve each other after all."
"You're jumping to conclusions--"
"I am going to get into those accounts," Eames continued, "and I'm going to find you there, aren't I? I have ways of my own and you know I can spot your footprints anywhere."
Arthur paled a little when he realized...Eames was right. They knew each other's tells and once Eames had access there was nothing to prevent him from finding what he wanted to find. When he followed the thought to its logical end, his chest tightened. "Eames."
"What?"
He squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't tell Cobb."
Eames snorted. "I should have known I couldn't trust you."
"Eames--" But Eames hung up.
"Shit," Arthur hissed. He hung up, and stared down at his phone for several long moments as if expecting it to ring again. When it didn't, he sighed and sank onto the edge of the bed. Eames didn't bother him--Fischer didn't bother him--but the thought of Cobb sitting down to dinner with his children and receiving an unexpected phone call made him sick to his stomach. He set the phone down and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to just be still and think, to make everything fit in his brain as was supposed to be his specialty.
The mattress shifted, and though he was embarrassed to remember he was not alone, nothing could have been more comforting than the warm body that leaned into his back.
"You okay?" Ariadne asked quietly.
"Yeah." Arthur glanced at her over his shoulder. "Sorry I woke you."
She shook her head. "What did Eames say?"
He looked away, but her hand on his back was more than enough encouragement. "He's been spying on Fischer," he explained. "From the sound of it he's even been in his mind recently, and he's worried about what he found. It's possible that the inception didn't just change his mind, it's...degrading it." He swallowed hard. "Like it did Mal."
Ariadne fidgeted. "So...Cobb told you after all."
Unease crept back into his stomach. "No, I figured it out on my own. Sounds like he told you, though."
"Arthur..."
"No, it's all right. With Cobb and me, it's...complicated." Arthur scraped the back of his hand over his mouth and continued. "Anyway, if Fischer doesn't get help before the symptoms become severe, it will already be too late. Better that he go to Dr. Banks now, even if it means exposing the inception to her. Like I told Eames, she's the only one that knows enough about dreamshare to help him."
"So." Ariadne took in a deep breath. "We're going through with it."
"Yes." He leaned into her, and she welcomed him. "Which means...it's time I told you everything."
To Chapter 6