Fic: The Dream Box
Written for the brigits_flame All-Star Challenge. The prompt was "carriage trade" ... I can only hope this captures that in some very small way.
Hypno Solutions was the largest privately funded center for oneirology - the study of dreams - in the world. Whatever happened during REM was poked, prodded and examined from every angle in order to understand its purpose.
Dr. Thaddeus Fobetor was the head of research and development. Unlike other administrators that abandoned research in favor politics, he was still very active in the lab. He was brilliant, hardworking, and like a true man of science the laboratory and everything that happened inside it were of paramount importance to him. It was his pride and joy and he would do anything to keep it running.
As with most things of a creative nature, funding was necessary to keep things running. It was a well known fact that after completing their doctorates, most scientists were lucky if they still had a package of instant Ramen to call their own. This was why Hypno Solutions had a bevy of multimillionaire investors in its pockets, the most notable of which was Mr. M. Oneiros.
While many might snicker at the odd coincidence between their benefactor’s name in relation to their studies, none dared to do so to his face. Mr. Oneiros was the epitome of upper crust: cold, aloof, disinterested in those of a lower social standing to himself, and very demanding. He also enjoyed showing up at the most inconvenient times for a tour of the facility - to check on his investment, as he claimed.
Whenever he deigned to make these out-of-the-blue appearances, Dr. Fobetor was always quick to intercept him. He did this as much to promote the laboratory as he did to keep the elitist from disturbing the researchers. Mr. Oneiros was notorious for interrupting projects, asking questions of limited relativity and just generally making himself a nuisance in the lab. The last thing he wanted was an angry scientist putting off their biggest donor.
That was why as soon as Dr. Fobetor heard their haughty patron was on the premises, he dropped everything in order to reach him before he entered the lab. He had never been one for track and field endeavors, but it wouldn’t have shown with the way he raced down the corridors of Hypno Solutions.
He caught sight of the man just as he was about to enter the laboratory with an entourage of advisors and lawyers in tow. Dr. Fobetor immediately slowed to a quick walk, dabbing his brow with a sleeve and trying not to pant too heavily.
“Mr. Oneiros! What a wonderful surprise!” he called cheerfully, stopping the group from entering the lab.
Mr. Oneiros turned at the greeting and a deep frown turned his mouth downward. He was a rather handsome man, if one didn’t mind a bit of frostbite. He was one of those people whose outside matched their inside perfectly.
“Doctor…?” he began, pausing as he tried to recall the name.
“Fobetor, sir,” the head scientist supplied helpfully, extending his hand. After seven years of having his name forgotten, he’d become immune to it.
The lab’s patron nodded as if he’d known this information all along, but didn’t move to take the offered hand. Dr. Fobetor’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the deliberate snub and lowered his arm. “So, what can we at Hypno Solutions do for you today?”
In response, Mr. Oneiros snapped his fingers. Immediately, one of the retainers quickly produced a plastic covered document and held it out. Curious as to what it was, the head of research took it and frowned when he noticed it was a progress report from one of his subordinates. He thumbed through a few pages to refresh himself with what the project was, causing his frown to deepen further in confusion.
Shaking his head, he looked up from the report and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Oneiros, but this project was discontinued. As I recall, Dr. Pasithea, who was behind the development of this devise, stated that there were too many technical and ethical concern involved to-”
“Spare the recap, doctor. I read the report,” Oneiros cut in sharply. “The device was completed though, correct?”
“Yes, but as I was saying-”
“And it functioned exactly as specified in the report?”
“It did, but again the potential for its use to be abused is-”
“How much is it?”
Dr. Fobetor blinked in surprise. It took a couple tries before he was able to stutter, “I-I’m sorry?”
Mr. Oneiros made an irritated sound and glared at the scientist as if he’d said something particularly offensive. “How much does it cost to purchase?”
Still taken aback by the question, he shook his head. “As I was trying to say, sir, the device was deemed unmarketable. The cost of production is too high, not to mention it would increase the liability of hospitals-”
“I’m not interested in it for mass production,” the man snapped, and for a brief moment the frigid façade slipped to reveal anger the likes of which Dr. Fobetor had never seen before. It was cold, almost what he would term inhuman, and far more terrifying than the ‘burning rage’ commonly spoke of.
A cold sweat slithered down his spine as he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. Clearing his throat, he asked hesitantly, “Then … what is your interest with the project?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Actually, Mr. Oneiros, if it concerns the laboratory and its products, it is my business.”
“Actually, doctor,” Oneiros replied mockingly. “If you expect my continued generosity, it doesn’t. I’ll pay you six million for the prototype.”
Dr. Fobetor’s eyes widened; he knew without checking the report that it far exceeded production costs. The administrative part of him was already assigning the money to different projects in dire need of more funding, but the rational side was arguing that something wasn’t right about this. Mr. Oneiros had never once shown this sort of interest in any of the lab’s projects, not unless it meant a good turnaround. It made no sense why a businessman would be interested in something that was deemed unfit for going retail.
Years of research had taught him to listen to instinct, so he tried one more time to express his concerns. “That’s very generous of you, but I’m afraid I can’t sell the prototype - not without knowing exactly where it’s going and what will be done with it.”
Mr. Oneiros’ eyes narrowed and his lips pursed into a thin, disapproving line. He swallowed hard but forced himself to stay firm.
After several uncomfortable seconds, the lab’s patron nodded curtly and said, “Very well. Nikolai, contact the other shareholders and inform them that I intend to withdraw any future funding. Good day, doctor.” Without so much as a cursory glance, he walked away, taking his entourage and money with him.
Panic slammed into him and before he realized what he was doing, the doctor was running after them. “Wait! Mr. Oneiros, please wait!”
The group stopped and turned toward Dr. Fobetor. “You’ve reconsidered?” Mr. Oneiros inquired.
“You’ve left me with no choice but to,” he snapped, uncaring that his tone was less than civil.
“I’ve done no such thing. Louis, give the good doctor the contract of sale.”
The lawyer addressed slipped a hand inside his suit coat and produced a neatly folded packet of papers. He handed them over to Dr. Fobetor, who shook his head bitterly as he took the offered pen and signed with stiff, angry strokes against the wall.
“This is blackmail,” he muttered as he refolded the document and shoved it back into Louis’ chest like a reviled item - which, in a way, it was. In all the years he’d been employed at Hypno Solutions, this was the first time he’d ever been forced to do something that went against his ethics.
Mr. Oneiros smirked. “This was business, doctor. Nothing more. I’ll send my people over for the machine later today. I want your scientists to accompany them and set it up for immediate use.”
“Please, Mr. Oneiros… What do you intend to do with it?” he pleaded as the group once again began to walk away.
“Good day, doctor.”
Dr. Fobetor watched until they disappeared around a corner from view. A horrible, sinking feeling settled in his stomach, causing him to slide to the floor with the project report still in hand. He sighed heavily and opened to the Conclusions portion of the report.
The device has proven successful in infiltrating the oneirological states associated with REM; however there are many unresolved issues with its functionality. We have not, as of this time, formulated a method for the subject to release their self from the REM state once it is induced without outside assistance. We are also still attempting to rectify the problem of observer interaction and influence on the subject’s dreams. As was stated in the Results, an anomaly was noted during Subject #2-51-A’s use of the device. When asked to describe the oneirological experience, the subject mentioned facts and thoughts that were relevant to the observer, who for this study was Dr. Nadeera Akemi. Some of the details provided were of a personal nature to Dr. Akemi, who claimed that she has had no outside contact with Subject #2-51-A before the experiment.
Further testing was conducted with a focus on this anomaly and it was discovered that the observer has the ability to directly connect and influence the oneirological processes of the subject. As this is not the intended use for the device and no solution to the problem has been discovered, the project is suspended indefinitely.
Dr. Fobetor let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes. That nagging voice still gnawed at his thoughts, scolding him for having caved to the demands of the entitled. Shaking his head and letting out another slow breath, he stood up and headed back to his office. Should anything happen because of this, he could claim plausible deniability and perhaps escape any legal consequences … but that knowledge did nothing to ease his conscience.
╫ ╫ ╫ ╫
“Honey, what are you doing home?”
Oneiros forced a cheerful smile for his wife who still, despite the perfume she’d quickly doused herself with, stank of sex. She was dressed as if for the yoga class she’d told him she was attending at the club; he’d already confirmed with the help desk that she hadn’t been there in several weeks.
Inclining his head toward the contraption now taking up space in the third floor study, far from prying eyes, he asked, “What do you think?”
Iris’s brows rose and she shook her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her cheeks. He could practically hear her relieved thoughts at pulling the wool over his eyes yet again. “I’m not really sure what to think,” she replied, laughter tinting her voice. “What is that thing?”
“It’s a Dream Box.”
“A Dream Box?” she repeated. The smile finally broke across her beautiful face as she moved closer to him, confident that he couldn’t smell the scent of another man all over her.
Containing his irritation at her arrogance, he said, “Yes, a Dream Box. I bought it from that laboratory we’ve been dumping money into. It’s about time they made good with it.”
She hummed a halfhearted agreement and smoothed a hand up his shoulder - the hand that should have had a wedding ring on it. Her palm froze as she belatedly realized this and moved to rub between his shoulder blades instead. “And what exactly does this Dream Box do?”
“It relaxes people to sleep and provides them with pleasant dreams. They were developing it for people suffering from insomnia and such.” The lie came smoothly from his tongue, much like hers had been for some time.
“And why is it here and not at the laboratory?”
“Because it’s the only one of its kind and I wanted it.”
Iris cast a dubious glance at the smooth metal contraption, taking in its casket like appearance and the cords running from it all across the floor in a tangled confusion of primary colors. “Honestly, honey, it looks rather morbid,” she commented. “I’m not sure how I feel about having something so…” Her hand fluttered as she tried to find a suitable adjective.
He laughed softly and leaned in to kiss her cheek, noting her sharp intake of breath. “I’ll put a cover over it for parties, love,” he replied, unable to contain the sarcastic emphasis on the last word. “It’s a remarkable machine though.”
She glanced at him, one brow lifting as amusement curved her lips. “You’ve already used it? I thought you hated dreams.”
“Not the ones produced by the Dream Box. They’re quite amazing.” His eyes narrowed speculatively on his wife before he reached out and opened the lid, revealing a comfortably cushioned interior.
“Why don’t you give it a try?” he suggested, smiling at the startled look on her face.
“What, you want me to get in that thing? No, thank you!” She shook her head and laughed nervously.
Oneiros chuckled and reached for her hand - the one missing its ring, just for the satisfaction of watching her flinch. Her smile wavered a little, but she didn’t risk pulling away and drawing attention to her bare finger.
Iris let him pull her closer to the machine and she dutifully peered inside at the soft padding and the small window that allowed whoever was inside to peer out. “Is it safe?” she asked, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
“Perfectly. They’re in productions to market this to hospital within the next six months,” he replied, rubbing a hand across her back soothingly. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re afraid of some science fair project.”
She laughed at the joke, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she nodded slowly and said, “Okay. Sure, I’ll give it a try.”
“That’s my rainbow girl,” he praised, noting the way her cheeks flushed at the use of her old nickname. Bracing his hands around her narrow waist, he helped lift her into the Dream Box. Iris remained sitting up for several seconds, studying the device with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. He waited patiently for her to get acclimated enough to relax down onto the cushion, her right hand carefully placed over her left across her stomach.
A nervous giggle broke from her as she smiled up at him. “It’s surprisingly comfortable.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Her smile turned into a puzzled frown as her gaze swept over the lid and sides again. “I don’t see a latch or anything in here. How do I get out?”
“You don’t.”
And with that, he slammed the lid closed on her frightened expression.
The bolt he’d had installed after the scientists had left slid easily into place, preventing the lid from opening as she beat against it with both fists. Her screams were muffled by the thick metal exterior.
He gazed through the tiny window at her panicked eyes, taking in her fear impassively. Her fists stopped hammering at the contraption as she looked back at him. Watching the realization bloom across her face sent a surge of triumph through his blood.
He left her there, sobbing soundlessly, and took a seat at his desk. Unlocking the top drawer, he removed a fragile looking piece of equipment that resembled headphones with an extra band running perpendicular to the frame. Each curving segment had padded pieces attached at the ends, one for each temple, his forehead and the base of his skull. His fingers flew across the keyboard to his computer as he pulled up the necessary file and started the program.
Immediately, the machine came to life. A sharp, electric jolt snapped down his spine as the Dream Box sought to connect him with his wife’s dreams. It was a strange sensation, feeling her sleep-clouded thoughts merging with his, the dulled remnants of her fear mingling with his victory. He took a few moments to adjust to the oddness of it before quickly asserting control of her wandering dreams, shaping them so that there was only one man she would ever see.
Oneiros was a man who always got what he wanted - and if he couldn’t have it, then he would make damn certain no one else would either.