[FIC - Inception] The Helix Trap Chapter 1/19
What do rich guys wear to bed? Do you suppose Robert has $500 boxers? This is going to be very important come chapter 4.
Fandom: Inception
Title: The Helix Trap
Chapter: 1/19 (6,068 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 betas, a_rocky_ravine and chypie, thanks for your input!
Ariadne hesitated at the front door. It had been just over five weeks since she last entered the old warehouse, though she thought of it often. She fingered her spare key, somehow doubting it would work even after having Cobb's assurance. At long last she took a deep breath and fit the key into the lock. With a click, it opened.
The clap of Ariadne's boots echoed in the empty hallways all the way to the workroom on the third floor. At first it seemed that nothing had changed, but when she passed a table she noticed it was freshly arranged with a coffee maker and a rice cooker. The former was even half full, though the coffee was no longer warm. As she took a closer look she noticed that there were other appliances set up as well, along with a pantry and small, vintage refrigerator.
So he's been living here after all, Ariadne thought, turning in place. But where is he?
The windows were all shaded making it difficult to see, but eventually Ariadne spotted a lawn chair near the east wall that was occupied by a slumbering figure. It was Arthur, the sleeves of his collared shirt rolled to accommodate the PASIV needle in his arm. She followed the tube to the device on a nearby table, and checked the timer: twenty minutes remaining.
Ariadne sat down on the chair next to him and pulled her cell phone out of her satchel. Found him, she wrote in a text to Cobb. I'll call you in 20.
She hit send and dropped her chin into her palm. Twenty minutes seemed like a long time to sit and do nothing, just to deliver a message. She briefly considered tipping Arthur's chair over, but then her gaze drifted to the PASIV. The red LED blinked in warning: In twenty minutes, you may never have an excuse to do this again, they chanted with every second elapsed. After another minute of chewing her lip she lurched into motion, pulling a second tube out of the silver briefcase.
"Don't be mad," she told the sleeping Arthur as she settled next to him. "Cobb asked me to." With only a little wince she slipped the needle under her skin.
The world went black. A chill wind prickled her bare arms and legs, carrying with it a thick stench of burnt popcorn and too-sweet sugar. It was familiar and oddly comforting, and by the time Ariadne opened her eyes she was already smiling.
She was in an amusement park. There was only a glow of daylight left on the horizon, but lights gleamed all around, blinking and whirling on the different attractions. Children headed for the exits with their parents while teenagers gathered in packs, passing cigarettes between each other when they thought no one was looking. The air was cheerful and mischievous, and inordinately inviting.
Twenty minutes means…four hours here, if he's using the usual stuff, Ariadne calculated as she moved with the crowd. That's plenty of time to take in a ride or two before I look for him. Her nostrils flared. Or get an Elephant Ear. You can't get fat off dream food, right?
Deciding that she didn't want to find out if she could get sick from dream food, she hopped into line at the Tilt-O-Whirl first. One of the teenaged boys she'd observed earlier was in front of her, and when he noticed her he turned and smiled. "Hey there."
Ariadne had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. And here I thought Arthur only dreamed of hotels and Armani. "Hey." She looked over the young man's ripped T-shirt and stone-washed jeans, and decided to play along. "Come here often?"
"Depends on who I'm with," he replied slyly.
She couldn't withhold her laughter a second time. Arthur is never hearing the end of this, she promised herself. "So who are you here with tonight?"
"No one yet." He offered his hand.
The kid was too young and too scrawny, but knowing that he had come from the mind of slick and professional Arthur amused Ariadne too much for her to pass him up. She took his hand, smirking as they moved with the line towards the ride. Before she could step up onto the metal stairs, however, the ride attendant stopped her.
"Sorry miss," he said. "But you're not tall enough for this ride."
Ariadne faced him incredulously. "What? I know I'm short, but it's the Tilt-O-Whirl, for God's sake."
The attendant pointed impatiently to a wooden cutout of a clown next to him. The clown, which was probably the most disturbing childhood figure she had ever seen--it had fangs--was holding a snake at eye level to mark the minimum height several inches above her head.
She made a face. "Why's it so tall for a kiddy ride?"
"Sorry, but it's the rules."
The teenager that had been her date for all of five seconds gave her a surprisingly cold look. "Guess you're sitting this one out, kid." He turned his back and hopped up to the closest cart.
Ariadne flushed in embarrassment and indignation. "Never knew your subconscious was so rude," she grumbled. She glared at the wooden clown, and it only took slight concentration on her part to shrink the grinning monstrosity down to a more reasonable size. "There. Now I'm tall enough."
She started to walk past the attendant, but he latched onto her arm before she could get more than a step. His fingers were bony, and hurt as he dragged her away from the ride. "You can't do that," he growled.
"What?" Ariadne tried to peel his hand off her. "Oh come on, I barely did anything!"
All around them people stopped to stare. When Ariadne managed to pull away from the attendant another appeared behind her, grabbing her shoulders. "Wait," she said, feeling panic claw up on her. "I didn't even change that much--I'm not a threat!"
Several more hands reached for her, but then a man in a security uniform wove through the throngs of people and urged them back. "It's all right," said a familiar voice. "I've got her."
"Arthur?" When Ariadne saw who it was she yanked herself free of the others and pushed to his side. "I'm sorry, I was just--"
"Please come with me, Miss," Arthur said. He took her gently by the arm and steered her away from the attendant and his mob. Slowly, the crowd dispersed, and by the time Arthur and Ariadne were off the main park path they were back to enjoying the evening.
Arthur didn't stop until they were safely out of sight behind a pizza vendor. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Sorry about that." Ariadne smoothed her clothing and hair, then looked him over. His security uniform, complete with little cap, was unexpectedly endearing. "Even at an amusement park you found a way to be the best dressed," she teased.
Arthur loosened his tie. "I'm doing research," he replied.
"In your own head?"
"Well, yes." Arthur motioned for her to follow. "Come here, I'll show you."
Ariadne smiled as she followed; it had been weeks, but he slipped into mentor mode so easily, clearing the panic of only a few moments ago out of her mind. She followed him back to the main path, where the projections had settled and did not even give her a second glance. "When someone is acting as a dreamer in a session, they start with an empty environment," Arthur explained. "That way the subject feels compelled to fill it, and they create the projections. Those projections change to fit the setting they're in."
"I remember." Ariadne looked to the Tilt-O-Whirl and spotted the teenager on board with a giggling brunette next to him. She harrumphed. "These projections don't seem like you."
"That's kind of the point," Arthur said. "I've been experimenting with making subtle changes to the dream environment, to see what effects they have on the projections. Keep an eye on them."
Ariadne glanced left and right. "What am I looking for?"
The horizon lightened, and only a minute had passed before the sun rose in the west. As orange light blanketed the park the teenagers began to filter out--including the teen and his date--and were replaced by families. Ariadne watched, intrigued, as the park's culture changed like a time lapse movie into a childlike and charming environment.
"So just by changing the time of day, you can change the projections," she said. "Does it really help that much?"'
"It can dependingon what your purpose is." Arthur frowned. "On one of my earlier jobs I thought that an amusement park might make for a good dream setting. Most people would have a positive response, and naturally fill the park with projections of children and families that wouldn't pose a threat."
"I'm guessing it didn't work out that way," Ariadne surmised, wincing.
"You can't underestimate the power of the mind to improvise." He faced her with a sheepish smile. "Let's just say I now hate clowns."
She hid a grin behind her hand. "You were taken out by a clown? I guess that explains a few things."
"Why are you here anyway?" Arthur changed the subject. "Did Cobb tell you where to find me?"
"Oh right. Actually, he did." She sobered with the reminder of what she had to tell him. "He called me, said he'd been trying to reach you all day. He was worried."
Arthur sighed. "Then I guess I'd better call him sooner than later. How much time was left on the timer?"
"About twenty minutes, so four hours?" When Ariadne realized what that might mean she cringed. "Are we going to have to kill each other?"
"We could take a leap off the Ferris Wheel if you prefer," he replied. He pointed in the distance. "It's over there."
Ariadne turned, and was weighing their options when she heard a sharp click behind her.
She opened her eyes back in the warehouse. She looked around, feeling a little light-headed, but when she glanced to her left and saw Arthur wake with a jerk, she caught on. "Did you just shoot me in the head?" she demanded.
"It was the fastest way." He pulled the IV out of his arm and gave it a tug to let it slide back into the PASIV. "You didn't feel anything, did you?"
"Well no, but…" Ariadne did the same, then rubbed the back of her head. There wasn't even a lingering sting, however unsettling the thought was. "You could have warned me."
Arthur stretched as he swung his legs off his chair. "Sometimes it's better when you don't see it coming," he said. He seemed to take a while to wake, rubbing his eyes and the back of his neck as if he had been asleep for a long time. "So what's got Cobb so worried anyway? It's not like him to check up on me."
"I think he wants to know if you saw this." Ariadne pulled her phone out and opened the article she had been reading during her last class. "It's about Fischer," she said as she handed it to him. "And Saito."
Arthur tensed, and quickly poured over the contents of the article. She could tell by the movements of his thumb over the screen that he read it twice, and his brow furrowed. "He withdrew Fischer Morrow's bid on the pipeline," he murmured, stupefied. "When did this happen?"
"Yesterday afternoon. Have you really been out of it that long?" When he didn't respond she waited for a moment and then continued. "I'm not sure what it all means, except that it's apparently not good for his company."
Arthur tapped on the phone and did a lot of scrolling, his eyes darting back and forth. "He was supposed to be funding an oil pipeline up the coast of Africa," he explained. "To be built by Cobol Engineering. They were afraid that Saito's company Proclus Global was going to try and muscle in on the deal somehow, but now that Fischer's pulled out completely the job's gone to Saito anyway." He rubbed his mouth, deep in thought. "Could Saito have planned this…?"
Ariadne moved to the edge of her chair and leaned forward. "It's working, isn't it," she said quietly as if they might be overheard. "If he's sabotaging his own company…"
He was quiet a moment as he read from another article. "It's working," he admitted at long last, and she felt a chill. "According to blog rumors he's in Munich negotiating the sale of a company he took over just last year. Damn. Eames was right." He handed the phone back. "It worked."
"It worked." Ariadne took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. A mysterious feeling slithered through her, ominous and exciting. "It's weird, isn't it. We've been waiting for word all this time, and now…"
"Cobb must be relieved. I'm going to give him a call."
Arthur pushed to his feet, but he only got two steps before he abruptly stopped and cocked his head. His attention would have been comical if Ariadne had not detected the cause a second later: footsteps, heading towards them. She started to stand but he motioned for her to stay put.
Did someone follow me? Ariadne held her breath, trying to squirm down the chair to better see the hall as Arthur moved away. Who else would know about this place but one of us? As ridiculous as it was she hoped it was Cobb, having magically flown to Paris just to check on them.
Her hope wilted when Arthur pulled a handgun out of his briefcase. The clink of the magazine sliding into place was sharp and unmistakable in the silent space, and to Ariadne's surprise, was answered with a woman's disapproving tsk.
"Put that away, Arthur."
Arthur tensed, and though it was clear he recognized the voice his immediate reaction was one of confusion. Ariadne glanced between him and the approaching figure restlessly, waiting to see if she ought to dive for cover, but then Arthur put his gun away once more.
The woman stepped into view. She was tall and well dressed in a soft gray suit and low heeled shoes. Though the deep wrinkles around her eyes and mouth betrayed her age, her short, feathered hair was dyed a rich strawberry blonde. A slim lap top case hung from her shoulder.
"Doctor." Arthur closed his briefcase and approached to shake her outstretched hand. "This is a surprise." His wary expression indicated it was not a pleasant one.
"Excuse me for not calling ahead," she replied, either oblivious to his ill ease or deliberately ignoring it. "But it was difficult enough finding what city you were in, let alone your number."
"And how did you get this address…?"
"A mutual acquaintance." She looked about to say more, but was distracted by Ariadne cautiously standing. "I'm sorry," she said, making a sweeping look of her. "I didn't know you were entertaining."
Ariadne moved to Arthur's side while he made an introduction. "This is Ariadne, a student from the university. Ariadne, this is Dr. Charla Banks."
Ariadne was still shaking her hand when it occurred to her that she knew the name. "The Dr. Banks?" she repeated, dumbfounded. "You mean, the one who..."
"Invented dreamshare technology, yes," Arthur supplied for her. "She and Dr. Gavde created the first PASIV device."
Charla smiled. "If you're familiar with my work that must mean you're one of Stephen's."
"Stephen...? Oh, you mean Professor Miles." Ariadne laughed at herself. "Sorry, yes. I'm an architecture student."
"Oh." She tilted her chin up in surprise. "I thought Stephen had given up introducing dreamshare to his students."
Ariadne glanced to Arthur, but his face was stoic and gave no indication of how she should answer. She knew she could not be truthful, but she couldn't help but be fascinated by the acquaintance she was making. If anyone knows something about making a legal career out of dreaming... "Actually, Arthur was just teaching me a few things," she said. "About dream settings and projections. It's all really fascinating--I think it's really helping me with my studies."
"I'm glad to hear it." Charla glanced to the still open PASIV briefcase nearby. "In fact, why don't we continue this conversation in a more interesting setting? I'm very curious to see one of Stephen's students at work."
"I'm not sure she's ready for that," Arthur intervened. "She still has a lot to learn."
Ariadne frowned at him. "Maybe I do, but I can at least set a dream up for us." I designed and taught three levels for my first job, she thought, wishing he could hear it. There's nothing wrong with us just talking in one dream, right? Besides, this might be my last chance... She took a step towards the chairs. "I wouldn't mind at all."
"Excellent." Charla followed her and set her case down next to Ariadne's satchel. "You can play the subject if you like, Arthur."
Arthur joined them, though reluctantly. "If it's testing her skills that interests you, it might be better if you take that role," he suggested.
Her eyes thinned as she smiled back, enjoying some private joke. "All right. Five minutes should be plenty of time."
Arthur set the device, and swabbed the needles with alcohol before handing them out. As they stretched out in the lawn chairs he cast Ariadne a meaningful look that she had no trouble deciphering: Be careful. She took a deep breath, and by the time she put herself under she had a plan in mind.
It began with the crash of shore-tossed waves. Their tumultuous symphony was one Ariadne had no trouble reproducing, and she let the rest of the dream unfold around it. Warm, sea-scented wind, a broad, stone porch, high archways and draped curtains: an elegant summer bungalow blossomed along a perfect golden beach. Ariadne breathed it in, her eyes still closed as she made subtle changes in the short moments she had before her guests joined her.
The three of them "awoke" seated around a glass table, refreshments before them, a silk canopy above. Ariadne beamed at the looks of awe on the others' faces--while Charla's pleased smile made her proud, Arthur's more subtle nod of appreciation was a special victory.
Charla stood and moved to the smooth white railing that surrounded the porch. "Very nice," she said, half to herself. "Simple, natural...beautiful. And isolated." She turned to look over the home itself, which was small but undeniably refined. "A private island, maybe? Dispelling the subject's compulsion to populate. Fewer projections, less interference." She brushed at her long, cream-colored sundress. "Very impressive, Miss Ariadne."
"Thank you, Dr. Banks." She shot Arthur an I told you so look. "I thought it would be better to talk without distractions."
"You have good instincts." Charla retook her seat and pour herself a cup of tea. "It's a shame Stephen no longer utilizes the PASIV. The things he could have taught you..."
"All right, Dr. Banks." Arthur leaned his arms against the table, abruptly serious. "Now that we're here, I think it's time you tell me how you really learned my address."
"Hm? You make it sound so suspicious." Charla sipped her tea. "A chemist named Yusuf gave it to me. He said you were acquaintances."
Arthur sighed. "Yusuf. I don't suppose you ran into him by coincidence."
"No, I didn't." Charla poured tea for both of them, but only Ariadne drank. "Down to business, then," she said, her manner becoming crisp. "I'm collecting assets for a job."
Ariadne pursed her lips against her cup. She tried to remain as stone-faced and professional as Arthur despite the guilty excitement fluttering in her chest. "Do you want me to leave?" she asked even though it was the last thing she wanted. "If you two want to talk business..."
"No please, stay. I need a team of five and so far I only have three. You might save me a trip." She lifted an eyebrow in Arthur's direction. "She is safe, isn't she?"
"She wouldn't be here if she wasn't. What's the job?"
"You're not going to like it," she warned. "But you're the only one I can ask, so please hear me out before you say no."
He folded his arms. "Go on."
"I was recently hired by an old friend," Charla began. As the details were exposed, Ariadne's excitement was replaced by a creeping sensation of dread. "A man who has poured his entire life into a very powerful company. But now there is one man standing between him and the position he believes he deserves: a little prince having a particularly nasty tantrum. He wants me to remove this obstacle for him."
Arthur's poker face was flawless. "So why not hire a hitman?"
"For all intents and purposes, he did." Charla paused to sip from her tea again. "Killing the prince with a bullet would only force into play his recently updated and very unorthodox will. What he's asked of me is to kill him in another fashion."
Ariadne felt her stomach twist, and she could not keep silent. "I'm sorry, but what exactly does that mean?"
Arthur looked away. Charla watched him, waiting to see if he would answer for her, but ultimately took the task herself. "If he is determined to be mentally unsound, the board of directors can have him removed," she explained. "Thus allowing my client to assume control without regard to the updated will."
Mentally unsound. "You're going to drive him crazy?" she blurted out.
"That shouldn't be hard for you at all," said Arthur.
"Arthur, what I'm planning is--"
"No," he interrupted firmly. "You know I don't do that kind of work."
Charla's expression hardened. "I'm not finished. What I'm planning is reversible." She turned her attention to Ariadne, who leaned back involuntarily. "I could easily falsify a diagnosis, but he has allies in the company that will insist on a second and third opinion. We will have to induce authentic symptoms of a psychotic break in order to convince my peers. But once power of the company has been ceded to my client, I can admit the subject into my clinic and rehabilitate him."
"You can't know that for sure," Arthur insisted.
"It's been done before."
"But by accident!" Arthur clenched his fist against the table, which added to Ariadne's mounting nerves. "It was a miracle any of us came out of that without lasting damage. And you're going to do that to a person on purpose?"
"Wait, wait." Ariadne put her hands up to try and quiet them. "Who is this 'prince' we're talking about anyway?"
Charla leaned back in her seat, her chin tilted. "I can't tell you until you accept."
But I already know who it is, don't I? Ariadne thought with brow furrowed. She glanced at Arthur and saw the understanding in him as well. "Dr. Banks, what you're talking about...well obviously it's illegal, but doesn't it..." She struggled, knowing how hypocritical and naïve she must have sounded. "It doesn't sound like something a doctor of your standing should be doing."
"I know how it looks." Charla pushed her hair away from her face and sighed. "But I don't feel as if I have a choice. He's already told me that if I refuse, he's going to hire Sullivan and Tung instead."
Arthur's shoulders sagged. "Brain butchers," he explained for Ariadne's sake. "Specializing in subconscious lobotomy."
"What?" She shuddered. "Is that really possible?"
"It is, and I believed him. Arthur, please." Charla reached across the table to clasp his wrist--he regarded the grip with untrusting eyes. "If I don't use a scalpel, they will use an axe. There's no going to the law for help--you know how these things work." She squeezed. "I know you've been in this man's mind before."
Arthur tensed beneath her fingers. "You can't ask me to do this."
"But I am. I can't do it without you." Seeing that she was doing more harm than good, she let him go and leaned back again. "Don’t make me resort to lesser means."
Ariadne glanced between them, and when silence followed for too long for her to take, she cleared her throat. "Can we have time to think about it?" she said.
"Of course." Charla forced a smile as she composed herself. "We still have plenty of time here. Shall I leave you to talk?"
"No, we'll leave," said Arthur. He stood, and took Ariadne's hand to help her out of her chair. Though surprised, she followed him toward the edge of the porch. "Just stay here and enjoy the tea."
Charla nodded vaguely. "All right."
They stepped onto a stone walkway that lead toward the beach. Ariadne had to strain to match Arthur's swift pace, which didn't help her already hastened pulse. Lesser means, she thought, and shuddered again. Once they were a decent enough distance from Charla, she asked, "She's talking about Robert Fischer, isn't she?"
At last Arthur slowed so she could more easily walk beside him. "I'm not sure, but it sounded like it."
"But how does she know about the--"
"Shh." His hand tightened around hers. "She doesn't. Let's keep it that way."
Ariadne eyed him with fresh apprehension. "But she knows you've been in his mind before," she pointed out. When an explanation occurred to her, she felt cold. "What haven't you told me?"
"We can't talk in here." Arthur glanced over his shoulder. "Just because we can't see her projections doesn't mean she won't overhear us."
"Projections? But she said..." She studied the landscape but saw no one, and paranoia made goose bumps rise on her arms. She lowered her voice. "Is it true you've done it before? She already knows, so you can talk about that at least."
He didn't look willing to answer, until she gave his arm a sharp tug. "It's true," he admitted. "But like I said, it was an accident. Even if I'm a lot more experienced now I don't know if I could do it again."
Or if it's right. Ariadne waited for him to comment on the morality of what he was suggesting, and when he didn't, she wasn't even sure if she had the right to be disappointed. "But if you don't do it...he'll end up a vegetable," she mumbled. "From the sound of it. What are you going to do?"
"I haven't decided yet..."
They walked along the shoreline unspeaking for several minutes. Ariadne kept her hold on Arthur's hand, telling herself that he may have needed her support, even as her waves grew jagged and dark alongside them. When she tried to consider what was being asked of them her stomach twisted into knots and her throat felt tight, and she soon abandoned the effort.
"At least it's a beautiful dream," Arthur said quietly.
Ariadne blinked up at him. He was watching the ocean peak and sway beneath a ragged canopy of low clouds she didn't remember placing. "Actually, it looks a little scary to me," she murmured. Kind of how I feel right now.
He tugged her to a halt. "Wait for it."
The wind picked up, blowing Ariadne's unbound hair in her face. As she tucked it behind her ear she watched the clouds shift, slowly taking and losing new shapes. She held her breath: at just the right moment a pair split enough to allow a few rays of pale sunlight through. For a bare instant the whitecaps glimmered, and then the clouds obscured the sun once more.
Ariadne smiled. "Did you do that?"
"No." He gave her hand a gentle shake. "You did."
She didn't believe him, but she did feel a little better. "Thanks, but I'm sure you've seen much more impressive dreams than this."
"Actually, most of my dreams are more...practical," Arthur said. "There aren't many uses for a beach in extraction."
Ariadne considered that, frowning. "Is it true that if you use the PASIV too much, you stop dreaming normally?" she asked carefully, already knowing the answer.
"Yes."
"What about you?"
"No." Arthur watched the ocean writhe. "I don't dream on my own anymore."
She couldn't tell by his tone if he regretted it or not, but she could tell that he didn't want her to ask. So she gave him a little tug, and they continued down the beach until their time ran out.
Waking was a gentler experience the second time. Ariadne separated herself from the PASIV and glanced warily to Charla as she did the same.
"Well, Arthur? Were you able to decide?" She let the IV tube snap back into the case.
Arthur shook his head. "You're asking me to put myself at risk to hurt an innocent man. I'm going to need some more time."
Charla looked disappointed, but not surprised. "I don't have much time," she said. "I'll need your answer by tomorrow or I'll have to think of a new plan." She reached into her satchel and pulled out a pair of business cards. "You can reach me on my cell. I'll be waiting for good news. The offer is open to you as well, Miss Ariadne." She handed a card to each of them.
"But I've never...really done anything like this," Ariadne said awkwardly.
"You have instinct--I can teach you the rest." Charla smiled thinly and pushed to her feet. "In fact, I prefer it that way."
Arthur and Ariadne stood with her, and walked with her partway to the exit. "I'll call you tomorrow with an answer," Arthur said. "Since you mentioned Yusuf, can I assume he's your chemist?"
"I'm not thrilled with him making his living off my colleague's work, but he is skilled. Unless you have a better suggestion, I'll have him flown in so you can describe the mission to him."
Arthur frowned at her. "I haven't accepted yet."
"Yes, not yet."
Ariadne hung back as the two shook hands, and at last Charla departed. She moved to the window, watching the street below. It wasn't until she saw Charla leave the building and slide into a dark car parked below that she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "She's kind of pushy, isn't she?"
"You have no idea." Arthur shook his head, and started to say more, when he was interrupted by the chirping of Ariadne's cell phone.
She picked it up off her bag and looked at the screen. And gulped. "It's Cobb," she reported, offering it to him.
Arthur rubbed his eyes and answered. "Dom, it's me."
"Arthur!" Ariadne could just make him out. "Where have you been? I've been trying to call you since yesterday."
"Yeah, I heard--sorry. I had my phone off while I was working." When Arthur noticed Ariadne watching, he held the phone closer to his ear and turned away. "I saw the article."
Ariadne sighed at his back and sat down. Though she could no longer hear Cobb, Arthur's half of the conversation was still audible, and she had no qualms in eavesdropping.
"Have you talked to Saito? ...I'm not surprised. At least he must be happy now. ...No, I haven't heard from him. What? Why? ...Dr. Banks?"
Arthur glanced over his shoulder, and was met by Ariadne's hard stare. "No, why would I?" he said. When she took a breath to voice protests, he held a finger to his mouth. "I'll let you know if anything turns up on my end. Right now I'm looking into finding another extractor, now that you've gone soft on me. Yeah, I know. Okay, okay. Say hi to the kids for me." He hung up.
Ariadne huffed. "You know, I used to think that Cobb was a real jerk for keeping things from his friends, but you're just as bad, aren't you?"
"Worse." He handed her phone back.
"That's not fu--hey!" When Arthur moved away she followed him across the room to the coffee maker. "I'm serious, Arthur. You have to tell him what Dr. Banks said."
"No one is telling Cobb anything," he said, pulling out the glass pot. Realizing the coffee inside had long since cooled, he carried it toward a sink in the sectioned off kitchen area.
Ariadne chased after him undaunted. "This affects him even more than it does us," she insisted. "If Fischer is fired from his own company and Browning takes over, it'll mean the whole inception was pointless! What will Saito say?"
Arthur poured out the stale coffee and began rinsing the pot. "I don't know. But if Browning's willing to go to Sullivan to get this done, there might not be anything we can do."
"But Arthur--"
He set the pot down in the sink and turned to face her. "Whatever I decide, you can't tell Cobb I even considered working with Banks," he said seriously.
Ariadne groaned in frustration. "God, you two! Why not?"
"Because..." Arthur hesitated, his teeth grinding. "He told you about what happened to Mal, right?"
The change of subjects sobered her. "Well...yes." She fidgeted. I might even know more about it than you do...
He took a deep breath and said it all in a rush. "Dr. Banks was one of the doctors that declared Mal 'sane' before she killed herself."
Ariadne leaned back as if struck. "But...she's an expert on dreams," she stammered. "Wouldn't she, of all people, be able to...?"
"That's probably the exact reason Mal chose her," Arthur said quietly. Seeing that Ariadne was catching on, he touched her shoulder. "Do you understand? I don't want Cobb to know."
She met his eyes. "Because he'd feel betrayed."
Arthur let her go, disquieted, but before he could turn away she went on. "I promise not to tell him, but only on one condition."
"No." He shook his finger at her. "No, no, no. You're not in on this one."
"She already invited me, remember?" Ariadne showed off Charla's card, and when he tried to take it from her she shoved it in her back pocket. "And there's no way I'm letting you walk into this much trouble by yourself."
"It's not about me. This isn't going to be like last time." He lowered his voice. "You don't want this on your conscience."
Ariadne grimaced and folded her arms. "You think I like this on my conscience now? It's because of us that he's become a target. How can I just walk away and do nothing?"
"If you can't do that," he said, filling the coffee pot, "then you shouldn't have signed on in the first place."
Arthur headed back to the main room, and Ariadne followed a few steps behind. As she watched him prepare a fresh batch of coffee she felt uncharacteristically helpless. Though he appeared quiet and calm, she found herself intimidated almost to silence. Almost. "Arthur...please." Please don’t ask me to walk away.
He finished and at looked back to her. Something about the sight of her made him pause; she watched him regret the words before they were out. "I'll call Dr. Banks in the morning and tell her we're in," he said with resignation. "Whether we decide to go through with it or not, right now the most important thing is that we make sure the client doesn't go to Sullivan."
Ariadne nodded, trying to appear more resolute than she felt. "What about Saito? If he finds out..."
"I'll handle that." Arthur smiled grimly. "Go home and try to get some sleep, Ariadne. Make sure this is what you really want."
She was still uneasy, but she knew she couldn't spy on Arthur all night. She retrieved her satchel and tucked her phone inside. "I only have one class tomorrow, and I'm coming over afterwards," she said. "If you're not here, I swear to God I'm calling Cobb."
"I'll be here," he replied quickly. "Take care getting home."
"I will." She hesitated, and had to summon a great deal of willpower to propel her toward the exit. "Goodnight, Arthur."
"Goodnight."
Ariadne left, but before she turned the corner toward the stairs, she couldn't help but glance back, just in time to see Arthur slip his red die out of his pocket.
To Chapter 2
Fandom: Inception
Title: The Helix Trap
Chapter: 1/19 (6,068 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 betas, a_rocky_ravine and chypie, thanks for your input!
Ariadne hesitated at the front door. It had been just over five weeks since she last entered the old warehouse, though she thought of it often. She fingered her spare key, somehow doubting it would work even after having Cobb's assurance. At long last she took a deep breath and fit the key into the lock. With a click, it opened.
The clap of Ariadne's boots echoed in the empty hallways all the way to the workroom on the third floor. At first it seemed that nothing had changed, but when she passed a table she noticed it was freshly arranged with a coffee maker and a rice cooker. The former was even half full, though the coffee was no longer warm. As she took a closer look she noticed that there were other appliances set up as well, along with a pantry and small, vintage refrigerator.
So he's been living here after all, Ariadne thought, turning in place. But where is he?
The windows were all shaded making it difficult to see, but eventually Ariadne spotted a lawn chair near the east wall that was occupied by a slumbering figure. It was Arthur, the sleeves of his collared shirt rolled to accommodate the PASIV needle in his arm. She followed the tube to the device on a nearby table, and checked the timer: twenty minutes remaining.
Ariadne sat down on the chair next to him and pulled her cell phone out of her satchel. Found him, she wrote in a text to Cobb. I'll call you in 20.
She hit send and dropped her chin into her palm. Twenty minutes seemed like a long time to sit and do nothing, just to deliver a message. She briefly considered tipping Arthur's chair over, but then her gaze drifted to the PASIV. The red LED blinked in warning: In twenty minutes, you may never have an excuse to do this again, they chanted with every second elapsed. After another minute of chewing her lip she lurched into motion, pulling a second tube out of the silver briefcase.
"Don't be mad," she told the sleeping Arthur as she settled next to him. "Cobb asked me to." With only a little wince she slipped the needle under her skin.
The world went black. A chill wind prickled her bare arms and legs, carrying with it a thick stench of burnt popcorn and too-sweet sugar. It was familiar and oddly comforting, and by the time Ariadne opened her eyes she was already smiling.
She was in an amusement park. There was only a glow of daylight left on the horizon, but lights gleamed all around, blinking and whirling on the different attractions. Children headed for the exits with their parents while teenagers gathered in packs, passing cigarettes between each other when they thought no one was looking. The air was cheerful and mischievous, and inordinately inviting.
Twenty minutes means…four hours here, if he's using the usual stuff, Ariadne calculated as she moved with the crowd. That's plenty of time to take in a ride or two before I look for him. Her nostrils flared. Or get an Elephant Ear. You can't get fat off dream food, right?
Deciding that she didn't want to find out if she could get sick from dream food, she hopped into line at the Tilt-O-Whirl first. One of the teenaged boys she'd observed earlier was in front of her, and when he noticed her he turned and smiled. "Hey there."
Ariadne had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. And here I thought Arthur only dreamed of hotels and Armani. "Hey." She looked over the young man's ripped T-shirt and stone-washed jeans, and decided to play along. "Come here often?"
"Depends on who I'm with," he replied slyly.
She couldn't withhold her laughter a second time. Arthur is never hearing the end of this, she promised herself. "So who are you here with tonight?"
"No one yet." He offered his hand.
The kid was too young and too scrawny, but knowing that he had come from the mind of slick and professional Arthur amused Ariadne too much for her to pass him up. She took his hand, smirking as they moved with the line towards the ride. Before she could step up onto the metal stairs, however, the ride attendant stopped her.
"Sorry miss," he said. "But you're not tall enough for this ride."
Ariadne faced him incredulously. "What? I know I'm short, but it's the Tilt-O-Whirl, for God's sake."
The attendant pointed impatiently to a wooden cutout of a clown next to him. The clown, which was probably the most disturbing childhood figure she had ever seen--it had fangs--was holding a snake at eye level to mark the minimum height several inches above her head.
She made a face. "Why's it so tall for a kiddy ride?"
"Sorry, but it's the rules."
The teenager that had been her date for all of five seconds gave her a surprisingly cold look. "Guess you're sitting this one out, kid." He turned his back and hopped up to the closest cart.
Ariadne flushed in embarrassment and indignation. "Never knew your subconscious was so rude," she grumbled. She glared at the wooden clown, and it only took slight concentration on her part to shrink the grinning monstrosity down to a more reasonable size. "There. Now I'm tall enough."
She started to walk past the attendant, but he latched onto her arm before she could get more than a step. His fingers were bony, and hurt as he dragged her away from the ride. "You can't do that," he growled.
"What?" Ariadne tried to peel his hand off her. "Oh come on, I barely did anything!"
All around them people stopped to stare. When Ariadne managed to pull away from the attendant another appeared behind her, grabbing her shoulders. "Wait," she said, feeling panic claw up on her. "I didn't even change that much--I'm not a threat!"
Several more hands reached for her, but then a man in a security uniform wove through the throngs of people and urged them back. "It's all right," said a familiar voice. "I've got her."
"Arthur?" When Ariadne saw who it was she yanked herself free of the others and pushed to his side. "I'm sorry, I was just--"
"Please come with me, Miss," Arthur said. He took her gently by the arm and steered her away from the attendant and his mob. Slowly, the crowd dispersed, and by the time Arthur and Ariadne were off the main park path they were back to enjoying the evening.
Arthur didn't stop until they were safely out of sight behind a pizza vendor. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Sorry about that." Ariadne smoothed her clothing and hair, then looked him over. His security uniform, complete with little cap, was unexpectedly endearing. "Even at an amusement park you found a way to be the best dressed," she teased.
Arthur loosened his tie. "I'm doing research," he replied.
"In your own head?"
"Well, yes." Arthur motioned for her to follow. "Come here, I'll show you."
Ariadne smiled as she followed; it had been weeks, but he slipped into mentor mode so easily, clearing the panic of only a few moments ago out of her mind. She followed him back to the main path, where the projections had settled and did not even give her a second glance. "When someone is acting as a dreamer in a session, they start with an empty environment," Arthur explained. "That way the subject feels compelled to fill it, and they create the projections. Those projections change to fit the setting they're in."
"I remember." Ariadne looked to the Tilt-O-Whirl and spotted the teenager on board with a giggling brunette next to him. She harrumphed. "These projections don't seem like you."
"That's kind of the point," Arthur said. "I've been experimenting with making subtle changes to the dream environment, to see what effects they have on the projections. Keep an eye on them."
Ariadne glanced left and right. "What am I looking for?"
The horizon lightened, and only a minute had passed before the sun rose in the west. As orange light blanketed the park the teenagers began to filter out--including the teen and his date--and were replaced by families. Ariadne watched, intrigued, as the park's culture changed like a time lapse movie into a childlike and charming environment.
"So just by changing the time of day, you can change the projections," she said. "Does it really help that much?"'
"It can dependingon what your purpose is." Arthur frowned. "On one of my earlier jobs I thought that an amusement park might make for a good dream setting. Most people would have a positive response, and naturally fill the park with projections of children and families that wouldn't pose a threat."
"I'm guessing it didn't work out that way," Ariadne surmised, wincing.
"You can't underestimate the power of the mind to improvise." He faced her with a sheepish smile. "Let's just say I now hate clowns."
She hid a grin behind her hand. "You were taken out by a clown? I guess that explains a few things."
"Why are you here anyway?" Arthur changed the subject. "Did Cobb tell you where to find me?"
"Oh right. Actually, he did." She sobered with the reminder of what she had to tell him. "He called me, said he'd been trying to reach you all day. He was worried."
Arthur sighed. "Then I guess I'd better call him sooner than later. How much time was left on the timer?"
"About twenty minutes, so four hours?" When Ariadne realized what that might mean she cringed. "Are we going to have to kill each other?"
"We could take a leap off the Ferris Wheel if you prefer," he replied. He pointed in the distance. "It's over there."
Ariadne turned, and was weighing their options when she heard a sharp click behind her.
She opened her eyes back in the warehouse. She looked around, feeling a little light-headed, but when she glanced to her left and saw Arthur wake with a jerk, she caught on. "Did you just shoot me in the head?" she demanded.
"It was the fastest way." He pulled the IV out of his arm and gave it a tug to let it slide back into the PASIV. "You didn't feel anything, did you?"
"Well no, but…" Ariadne did the same, then rubbed the back of her head. There wasn't even a lingering sting, however unsettling the thought was. "You could have warned me."
Arthur stretched as he swung his legs off his chair. "Sometimes it's better when you don't see it coming," he said. He seemed to take a while to wake, rubbing his eyes and the back of his neck as if he had been asleep for a long time. "So what's got Cobb so worried anyway? It's not like him to check up on me."
"I think he wants to know if you saw this." Ariadne pulled her phone out and opened the article she had been reading during her last class. "It's about Fischer," she said as she handed it to him. "And Saito."
Arthur tensed, and quickly poured over the contents of the article. She could tell by the movements of his thumb over the screen that he read it twice, and his brow furrowed. "He withdrew Fischer Morrow's bid on the pipeline," he murmured, stupefied. "When did this happen?"
"Yesterday afternoon. Have you really been out of it that long?" When he didn't respond she waited for a moment and then continued. "I'm not sure what it all means, except that it's apparently not good for his company."
Arthur tapped on the phone and did a lot of scrolling, his eyes darting back and forth. "He was supposed to be funding an oil pipeline up the coast of Africa," he explained. "To be built by Cobol Engineering. They were afraid that Saito's company Proclus Global was going to try and muscle in on the deal somehow, but now that Fischer's pulled out completely the job's gone to Saito anyway." He rubbed his mouth, deep in thought. "Could Saito have planned this…?"
Ariadne moved to the edge of her chair and leaned forward. "It's working, isn't it," she said quietly as if they might be overheard. "If he's sabotaging his own company…"
He was quiet a moment as he read from another article. "It's working," he admitted at long last, and she felt a chill. "According to blog rumors he's in Munich negotiating the sale of a company he took over just last year. Damn. Eames was right." He handed the phone back. "It worked."
"It worked." Ariadne took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. A mysterious feeling slithered through her, ominous and exciting. "It's weird, isn't it. We've been waiting for word all this time, and now…"
"Cobb must be relieved. I'm going to give him a call."
Arthur pushed to his feet, but he only got two steps before he abruptly stopped and cocked his head. His attention would have been comical if Ariadne had not detected the cause a second later: footsteps, heading towards them. She started to stand but he motioned for her to stay put.
Did someone follow me? Ariadne held her breath, trying to squirm down the chair to better see the hall as Arthur moved away. Who else would know about this place but one of us? As ridiculous as it was she hoped it was Cobb, having magically flown to Paris just to check on them.
Her hope wilted when Arthur pulled a handgun out of his briefcase. The clink of the magazine sliding into place was sharp and unmistakable in the silent space, and to Ariadne's surprise, was answered with a woman's disapproving tsk.
"Put that away, Arthur."
Arthur tensed, and though it was clear he recognized the voice his immediate reaction was one of confusion. Ariadne glanced between him and the approaching figure restlessly, waiting to see if she ought to dive for cover, but then Arthur put his gun away once more.
The woman stepped into view. She was tall and well dressed in a soft gray suit and low heeled shoes. Though the deep wrinkles around her eyes and mouth betrayed her age, her short, feathered hair was dyed a rich strawberry blonde. A slim lap top case hung from her shoulder.
"Doctor." Arthur closed his briefcase and approached to shake her outstretched hand. "This is a surprise." His wary expression indicated it was not a pleasant one.
"Excuse me for not calling ahead," she replied, either oblivious to his ill ease or deliberately ignoring it. "But it was difficult enough finding what city you were in, let alone your number."
"And how did you get this address…?"
"A mutual acquaintance." She looked about to say more, but was distracted by Ariadne cautiously standing. "I'm sorry," she said, making a sweeping look of her. "I didn't know you were entertaining."
Ariadne moved to Arthur's side while he made an introduction. "This is Ariadne, a student from the university. Ariadne, this is Dr. Charla Banks."
Ariadne was still shaking her hand when it occurred to her that she knew the name. "The Dr. Banks?" she repeated, dumbfounded. "You mean, the one who..."
"Invented dreamshare technology, yes," Arthur supplied for her. "She and Dr. Gavde created the first PASIV device."
Charla smiled. "If you're familiar with my work that must mean you're one of Stephen's."
"Stephen...? Oh, you mean Professor Miles." Ariadne laughed at herself. "Sorry, yes. I'm an architecture student."
"Oh." She tilted her chin up in surprise. "I thought Stephen had given up introducing dreamshare to his students."
Ariadne glanced to Arthur, but his face was stoic and gave no indication of how she should answer. She knew she could not be truthful, but she couldn't help but be fascinated by the acquaintance she was making. If anyone knows something about making a legal career out of dreaming... "Actually, Arthur was just teaching me a few things," she said. "About dream settings and projections. It's all really fascinating--I think it's really helping me with my studies."
"I'm glad to hear it." Charla glanced to the still open PASIV briefcase nearby. "In fact, why don't we continue this conversation in a more interesting setting? I'm very curious to see one of Stephen's students at work."
"I'm not sure she's ready for that," Arthur intervened. "She still has a lot to learn."
Ariadne frowned at him. "Maybe I do, but I can at least set a dream up for us." I designed and taught three levels for my first job, she thought, wishing he could hear it. There's nothing wrong with us just talking in one dream, right? Besides, this might be my last chance... She took a step towards the chairs. "I wouldn't mind at all."
"Excellent." Charla followed her and set her case down next to Ariadne's satchel. "You can play the subject if you like, Arthur."
Arthur joined them, though reluctantly. "If it's testing her skills that interests you, it might be better if you take that role," he suggested.
Her eyes thinned as she smiled back, enjoying some private joke. "All right. Five minutes should be plenty of time."
Arthur set the device, and swabbed the needles with alcohol before handing them out. As they stretched out in the lawn chairs he cast Ariadne a meaningful look that she had no trouble deciphering: Be careful. She took a deep breath, and by the time she put herself under she had a plan in mind.
It began with the crash of shore-tossed waves. Their tumultuous symphony was one Ariadne had no trouble reproducing, and she let the rest of the dream unfold around it. Warm, sea-scented wind, a broad, stone porch, high archways and draped curtains: an elegant summer bungalow blossomed along a perfect golden beach. Ariadne breathed it in, her eyes still closed as she made subtle changes in the short moments she had before her guests joined her.
The three of them "awoke" seated around a glass table, refreshments before them, a silk canopy above. Ariadne beamed at the looks of awe on the others' faces--while Charla's pleased smile made her proud, Arthur's more subtle nod of appreciation was a special victory.
Charla stood and moved to the smooth white railing that surrounded the porch. "Very nice," she said, half to herself. "Simple, natural...beautiful. And isolated." She turned to look over the home itself, which was small but undeniably refined. "A private island, maybe? Dispelling the subject's compulsion to populate. Fewer projections, less interference." She brushed at her long, cream-colored sundress. "Very impressive, Miss Ariadne."
"Thank you, Dr. Banks." She shot Arthur an I told you so look. "I thought it would be better to talk without distractions."
"You have good instincts." Charla retook her seat and pour herself a cup of tea. "It's a shame Stephen no longer utilizes the PASIV. The things he could have taught you..."
"All right, Dr. Banks." Arthur leaned his arms against the table, abruptly serious. "Now that we're here, I think it's time you tell me how you really learned my address."
"Hm? You make it sound so suspicious." Charla sipped her tea. "A chemist named Yusuf gave it to me. He said you were acquaintances."
Arthur sighed. "Yusuf. I don't suppose you ran into him by coincidence."
"No, I didn't." Charla poured tea for both of them, but only Ariadne drank. "Down to business, then," she said, her manner becoming crisp. "I'm collecting assets for a job."
Ariadne pursed her lips against her cup. She tried to remain as stone-faced and professional as Arthur despite the guilty excitement fluttering in her chest. "Do you want me to leave?" she asked even though it was the last thing she wanted. "If you two want to talk business..."
"No please, stay. I need a team of five and so far I only have three. You might save me a trip." She lifted an eyebrow in Arthur's direction. "She is safe, isn't she?"
"She wouldn't be here if she wasn't. What's the job?"
"You're not going to like it," she warned. "But you're the only one I can ask, so please hear me out before you say no."
He folded his arms. "Go on."
"I was recently hired by an old friend," Charla began. As the details were exposed, Ariadne's excitement was replaced by a creeping sensation of dread. "A man who has poured his entire life into a very powerful company. But now there is one man standing between him and the position he believes he deserves: a little prince having a particularly nasty tantrum. He wants me to remove this obstacle for him."
Arthur's poker face was flawless. "So why not hire a hitman?"
"For all intents and purposes, he did." Charla paused to sip from her tea again. "Killing the prince with a bullet would only force into play his recently updated and very unorthodox will. What he's asked of me is to kill him in another fashion."
Ariadne felt her stomach twist, and she could not keep silent. "I'm sorry, but what exactly does that mean?"
Arthur looked away. Charla watched him, waiting to see if he would answer for her, but ultimately took the task herself. "If he is determined to be mentally unsound, the board of directors can have him removed," she explained. "Thus allowing my client to assume control without regard to the updated will."
Mentally unsound. "You're going to drive him crazy?" she blurted out.
"That shouldn't be hard for you at all," said Arthur.
"Arthur, what I'm planning is--"
"No," he interrupted firmly. "You know I don't do that kind of work."
Charla's expression hardened. "I'm not finished. What I'm planning is reversible." She turned her attention to Ariadne, who leaned back involuntarily. "I could easily falsify a diagnosis, but he has allies in the company that will insist on a second and third opinion. We will have to induce authentic symptoms of a psychotic break in order to convince my peers. But once power of the company has been ceded to my client, I can admit the subject into my clinic and rehabilitate him."
"You can't know that for sure," Arthur insisted.
"It's been done before."
"But by accident!" Arthur clenched his fist against the table, which added to Ariadne's mounting nerves. "It was a miracle any of us came out of that without lasting damage. And you're going to do that to a person on purpose?"
"Wait, wait." Ariadne put her hands up to try and quiet them. "Who is this 'prince' we're talking about anyway?"
Charla leaned back in her seat, her chin tilted. "I can't tell you until you accept."
But I already know who it is, don't I? Ariadne thought with brow furrowed. She glanced at Arthur and saw the understanding in him as well. "Dr. Banks, what you're talking about...well obviously it's illegal, but doesn't it..." She struggled, knowing how hypocritical and naïve she must have sounded. "It doesn't sound like something a doctor of your standing should be doing."
"I know how it looks." Charla pushed her hair away from her face and sighed. "But I don't feel as if I have a choice. He's already told me that if I refuse, he's going to hire Sullivan and Tung instead."
Arthur's shoulders sagged. "Brain butchers," he explained for Ariadne's sake. "Specializing in subconscious lobotomy."
"What?" She shuddered. "Is that really possible?"
"It is, and I believed him. Arthur, please." Charla reached across the table to clasp his wrist--he regarded the grip with untrusting eyes. "If I don't use a scalpel, they will use an axe. There's no going to the law for help--you know how these things work." She squeezed. "I know you've been in this man's mind before."
Arthur tensed beneath her fingers. "You can't ask me to do this."
"But I am. I can't do it without you." Seeing that she was doing more harm than good, she let him go and leaned back again. "Don’t make me resort to lesser means."
Ariadne glanced between them, and when silence followed for too long for her to take, she cleared her throat. "Can we have time to think about it?" she said.
"Of course." Charla forced a smile as she composed herself. "We still have plenty of time here. Shall I leave you to talk?"
"No, we'll leave," said Arthur. He stood, and took Ariadne's hand to help her out of her chair. Though surprised, she followed him toward the edge of the porch. "Just stay here and enjoy the tea."
Charla nodded vaguely. "All right."
They stepped onto a stone walkway that lead toward the beach. Ariadne had to strain to match Arthur's swift pace, which didn't help her already hastened pulse. Lesser means, she thought, and shuddered again. Once they were a decent enough distance from Charla, she asked, "She's talking about Robert Fischer, isn't she?"
At last Arthur slowed so she could more easily walk beside him. "I'm not sure, but it sounded like it."
"But how does she know about the--"
"Shh." His hand tightened around hers. "She doesn't. Let's keep it that way."
Ariadne eyed him with fresh apprehension. "But she knows you've been in his mind before," she pointed out. When an explanation occurred to her, she felt cold. "What haven't you told me?"
"We can't talk in here." Arthur glanced over his shoulder. "Just because we can't see her projections doesn't mean she won't overhear us."
"Projections? But she said..." She studied the landscape but saw no one, and paranoia made goose bumps rise on her arms. She lowered her voice. "Is it true you've done it before? She already knows, so you can talk about that at least."
He didn't look willing to answer, until she gave his arm a sharp tug. "It's true," he admitted. "But like I said, it was an accident. Even if I'm a lot more experienced now I don't know if I could do it again."
Or if it's right. Ariadne waited for him to comment on the morality of what he was suggesting, and when he didn't, she wasn't even sure if she had the right to be disappointed. "But if you don't do it...he'll end up a vegetable," she mumbled. "From the sound of it. What are you going to do?"
"I haven't decided yet..."
They walked along the shoreline unspeaking for several minutes. Ariadne kept her hold on Arthur's hand, telling herself that he may have needed her support, even as her waves grew jagged and dark alongside them. When she tried to consider what was being asked of them her stomach twisted into knots and her throat felt tight, and she soon abandoned the effort.
"At least it's a beautiful dream," Arthur said quietly.
Ariadne blinked up at him. He was watching the ocean peak and sway beneath a ragged canopy of low clouds she didn't remember placing. "Actually, it looks a little scary to me," she murmured. Kind of how I feel right now.
He tugged her to a halt. "Wait for it."
The wind picked up, blowing Ariadne's unbound hair in her face. As she tucked it behind her ear she watched the clouds shift, slowly taking and losing new shapes. She held her breath: at just the right moment a pair split enough to allow a few rays of pale sunlight through. For a bare instant the whitecaps glimmered, and then the clouds obscured the sun once more.
Ariadne smiled. "Did you do that?"
"No." He gave her hand a gentle shake. "You did."
She didn't believe him, but she did feel a little better. "Thanks, but I'm sure you've seen much more impressive dreams than this."
"Actually, most of my dreams are more...practical," Arthur said. "There aren't many uses for a beach in extraction."
Ariadne considered that, frowning. "Is it true that if you use the PASIV too much, you stop dreaming normally?" she asked carefully, already knowing the answer.
"Yes."
"What about you?"
"No." Arthur watched the ocean writhe. "I don't dream on my own anymore."
She couldn't tell by his tone if he regretted it or not, but she could tell that he didn't want her to ask. So she gave him a little tug, and they continued down the beach until their time ran out.
Waking was a gentler experience the second time. Ariadne separated herself from the PASIV and glanced warily to Charla as she did the same.
"Well, Arthur? Were you able to decide?" She let the IV tube snap back into the case.
Arthur shook his head. "You're asking me to put myself at risk to hurt an innocent man. I'm going to need some more time."
Charla looked disappointed, but not surprised. "I don't have much time," she said. "I'll need your answer by tomorrow or I'll have to think of a new plan." She reached into her satchel and pulled out a pair of business cards. "You can reach me on my cell. I'll be waiting for good news. The offer is open to you as well, Miss Ariadne." She handed a card to each of them.
"But I've never...really done anything like this," Ariadne said awkwardly.
"You have instinct--I can teach you the rest." Charla smiled thinly and pushed to her feet. "In fact, I prefer it that way."
Arthur and Ariadne stood with her, and walked with her partway to the exit. "I'll call you tomorrow with an answer," Arthur said. "Since you mentioned Yusuf, can I assume he's your chemist?"
"I'm not thrilled with him making his living off my colleague's work, but he is skilled. Unless you have a better suggestion, I'll have him flown in so you can describe the mission to him."
Arthur frowned at her. "I haven't accepted yet."
"Yes, not yet."
Ariadne hung back as the two shook hands, and at last Charla departed. She moved to the window, watching the street below. It wasn't until she saw Charla leave the building and slide into a dark car parked below that she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "She's kind of pushy, isn't she?"
"You have no idea." Arthur shook his head, and started to say more, when he was interrupted by the chirping of Ariadne's cell phone.
She picked it up off her bag and looked at the screen. And gulped. "It's Cobb," she reported, offering it to him.
Arthur rubbed his eyes and answered. "Dom, it's me."
"Arthur!" Ariadne could just make him out. "Where have you been? I've been trying to call you since yesterday."
"Yeah, I heard--sorry. I had my phone off while I was working." When Arthur noticed Ariadne watching, he held the phone closer to his ear and turned away. "I saw the article."
Ariadne sighed at his back and sat down. Though she could no longer hear Cobb, Arthur's half of the conversation was still audible, and she had no qualms in eavesdropping.
"Have you talked to Saito? ...I'm not surprised. At least he must be happy now. ...No, I haven't heard from him. What? Why? ...Dr. Banks?"
Arthur glanced over his shoulder, and was met by Ariadne's hard stare. "No, why would I?" he said. When she took a breath to voice protests, he held a finger to his mouth. "I'll let you know if anything turns up on my end. Right now I'm looking into finding another extractor, now that you've gone soft on me. Yeah, I know. Okay, okay. Say hi to the kids for me." He hung up.
Ariadne huffed. "You know, I used to think that Cobb was a real jerk for keeping things from his friends, but you're just as bad, aren't you?"
"Worse." He handed her phone back.
"That's not fu--hey!" When Arthur moved away she followed him across the room to the coffee maker. "I'm serious, Arthur. You have to tell him what Dr. Banks said."
"No one is telling Cobb anything," he said, pulling out the glass pot. Realizing the coffee inside had long since cooled, he carried it toward a sink in the sectioned off kitchen area.
Ariadne chased after him undaunted. "This affects him even more than it does us," she insisted. "If Fischer is fired from his own company and Browning takes over, it'll mean the whole inception was pointless! What will Saito say?"
Arthur poured out the stale coffee and began rinsing the pot. "I don't know. But if Browning's willing to go to Sullivan to get this done, there might not be anything we can do."
"But Arthur--"
He set the pot down in the sink and turned to face her. "Whatever I decide, you can't tell Cobb I even considered working with Banks," he said seriously.
Ariadne groaned in frustration. "God, you two! Why not?"
"Because..." Arthur hesitated, his teeth grinding. "He told you about what happened to Mal, right?"
The change of subjects sobered her. "Well...yes." She fidgeted. I might even know more about it than you do...
He took a deep breath and said it all in a rush. "Dr. Banks was one of the doctors that declared Mal 'sane' before she killed herself."
Ariadne leaned back as if struck. "But...she's an expert on dreams," she stammered. "Wouldn't she, of all people, be able to...?"
"That's probably the exact reason Mal chose her," Arthur said quietly. Seeing that Ariadne was catching on, he touched her shoulder. "Do you understand? I don't want Cobb to know."
She met his eyes. "Because he'd feel betrayed."
Arthur let her go, disquieted, but before he could turn away she went on. "I promise not to tell him, but only on one condition."
"No." He shook his finger at her. "No, no, no. You're not in on this one."
"She already invited me, remember?" Ariadne showed off Charla's card, and when he tried to take it from her she shoved it in her back pocket. "And there's no way I'm letting you walk into this much trouble by yourself."
"It's not about me. This isn't going to be like last time." He lowered his voice. "You don't want this on your conscience."
Ariadne grimaced and folded her arms. "You think I like this on my conscience now? It's because of us that he's become a target. How can I just walk away and do nothing?"
"If you can't do that," he said, filling the coffee pot, "then you shouldn't have signed on in the first place."
Arthur headed back to the main room, and Ariadne followed a few steps behind. As she watched him prepare a fresh batch of coffee she felt uncharacteristically helpless. Though he appeared quiet and calm, she found herself intimidated almost to silence. Almost. "Arthur...please." Please don’t ask me to walk away.
He finished and at looked back to her. Something about the sight of her made him pause; she watched him regret the words before they were out. "I'll call Dr. Banks in the morning and tell her we're in," he said with resignation. "Whether we decide to go through with it or not, right now the most important thing is that we make sure the client doesn't go to Sullivan."
Ariadne nodded, trying to appear more resolute than she felt. "What about Saito? If he finds out..."
"I'll handle that." Arthur smiled grimly. "Go home and try to get some sleep, Ariadne. Make sure this is what you really want."
She was still uneasy, but she knew she couldn't spy on Arthur all night. She retrieved her satchel and tucked her phone inside. "I only have one class tomorrow, and I'm coming over afterwards," she said. "If you're not here, I swear to God I'm calling Cobb."
"I'll be here," he replied quickly. "Take care getting home."
"I will." She hesitated, and had to summon a great deal of willpower to propel her toward the exit. "Goodnight, Arthur."
"Goodnight."
Ariadne left, but before she turned the corner toward the stairs, she couldn't help but glance back, just in time to see Arthur slip his red die out of his pocket.
To Chapter 2