After just writing fluff for the fangirl's soul I need to write something with more action, respectively a longer and more complex storyline. So here it is, hope you like it…
Disclaimer: obviously nothing you recognize from the movie is mine – everything else though belongs to me…
A/N: um, since I'm German I don't know too much about the U.S. Army or army related stuff in general, please correct me if you find mistakes. I'm trying my best to get everything right.
Arthur smiled as he packed the shiny photographs in an envelope and sealed it carefully – he imagined his father to be proud, his mother crying a little when she saw him in that uniform, all grown up and handsome, perhaps his sister would start a discussion about how awful the army was, how dare they play world police and so on. But never the less they would put the pictures on the mantelpiece next to the other ones showing faces he had never seen smiling at him apart from those photos for most of those people had died on battlefields through the decades. Nearly everyone in his family had been with the army at some stage in their life, decorated officers such as his father and grandfather or others who had left in dishonor such as his uncle.
Arthur buttoned up his jacket and left for his next appointment. One that would probably decide over his future life.
The University building didn't look as impressive as he had thought it would, a two-story complex bleached under the Texas sun sporting flags hanging lackadaisically in the heat. The front doors were massive, signaling beyond doubt that what was said inside would stay inside. Arthur felt sweat trickle down his back beneath the dark blue Air Force uniform. Although he had only joined recently coloured tags lined his jacket already and his squad leader had recommended him to some brass hat for this unique project. He only knew it was top secret and during the prep talks he had felt like he was part of a cliché action movie, signing contracts that forbade him to tell anyone where he was, what he did, whom he met or what he heard for the next few months. His family believed he was on an air craft carrier training somewhere in the Atlantic. Arthur wouldn't see them again soon, and he also knew of the possibility that he would probably never see them again, depending on this project. Adjusting his jacket one last time he took a deep breath and went up the steps, escaping from the blazing sun as the large front doors closed behind him.
The lobby was cool and a lot more magnificent than the outside of the building. Marble floors, high pillars lining the far end and elaborate staircases leading to the upper floor. Everything was empty, which alarmed Arthur a little. Surely the army wouldn't let her prestige project completely unprotected?
"Sir, this way please." A tall woman stepped out from the shadows. She was obviously a civilian, not addressing him with his rank. "The Audimax is along here. If you would follow me, please?"
Silently he walked behind her and listened to the sound of their steps echoing through the lobby. A double wing door at the far end of the hall was open, soft humming of voices leaked into the silence. A sign told Arthur that this was the 'Auditorium Maximum', the biggest lecture hall of the building.
"Your information, Sir." She pushed a thick manila folder into his hands and disappeared into the dimly lit corridor.
Hesitating, Arthur went a few steps into the lecture hall, very similar to the ones at college. Just that it was – grand, huge, the walls fading into darkness. Civilians in dark suits lined the centre aisle.
"Just take a seat, Sir." One of them told him and pointed to an empty seat in the middle of an already well filled row. "Thanks." Arthur said in a low voice and rolled the manila folder to give his nervous hands a task. Mumbling his excuse he inched past military in foreign uniforms until he reached his destination, sinking into the soft plush chair.
"Hey." The man to his left greeted him.
"Hi." Arthur said and shook the hand the stranger offered him.
It was a British naval officer, his uniform heavy with medals despite his face suggesting he was no older than 25.
"Eames, and forget the ranks. I muddle them up every time, anyway."
"Arthur."
"Eames is my last name. Bother sharing yours?" He grinned, Arthur could just make that out in the darkness.
"Not really." He said coolly and straightened his tie.
"Oooh. A little touchy, are we?"
Arthur remained silent. The French guy to his right solved a Sudoku. Down on the podium someone switched on a little lamp for the lecturer and dimmed the lights in the Audimax even further.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Professor Dr. Miles Dawson of the Sorbonne University, Paris, chairman of the Faculty for Architecture and pioneer in the field of Dreamsharing. He will introduce you to the technique of shared dreaming, its purposes and benefits and your training."
A man in dark trousers and tweed jacket entered the stage. His hair was already beginning to show some grey strands, the half moon spectacles reflected the light of the office lamp before him. Professor Dawson cleared his throat.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this very special day. None of you will have heard of Dreamsharing before, which shows how well we are coping with keeping this technique what it should be – secret, only available to those it should be available to. It is fascinating, of course, holds great potential, obviously, and is dangerous, believe me. Not only physical danger that is implied in everything criminals want to lay their hands on, but also the danger of losing one's mind. Slowly but steadily you can get addicted to it, and it will destroy your body and brain as Heroine does. I am not saying this to keep you away, that would not help me on my mission. I am telling you because you have the right to know what risks you are going to take. Many of those establishing the technique of shared dreaming have gone, - well – bonkers by the time they had finished training." He paused effectively.
"You have been chosen among the brightest heads of your country's armed forces. And I believe that you – not all of you, but one out of ten – will complete training successfully."
Arthur discreetly glanced at Mr. Eames, who was listening spellbound.
"Basic training will take place the next nine months in Camp Erne in Nevada. You will be set up in groups of ten supervised by military scientists. It is our aim to turn you into the most skilled extractors. Depending on your talent you will be given extra tuition relating to forgery, logistics, chemistry and architecture. Being an extractor means entering other people's minds trough their dreams to extract information. Further details have been handed to you as you entered this room."
Arthur noticed most of the people shuffling through their manila folders exactly the same as his own. He didn't bother to open it, there would be time for that later. The French guy dropped his and cursed quietly while bending over his polished shoes to gather the papers. To Arthur's surprise Mr. Eames was also refusing to look into his folder.
"We're going to Las Vegas…" Mr. Eames whispered.
"Um, actually, we're going to Nevada. Vegas is in Nevada, but I don't think we will spend our time gambling." Arthur corrected him.
Mr. Eames raised an eyebrow and stopped chewing on his biro. "Eh? I didn't fly across that fucking ocean to stay away from Black Jack tables."
"Camp Erne is in the middle of nowhere, I don't see any possibility to sneak off to Vegas without anyone noticing. And I doubt we will have a field day to enjoy ourselves."
"I'm sure you don't even know how to enjoy yourself." Mr. Eames grinned. "But I'm bloody well going to Vegas, and so is Ronnie." He knocked the man in front of him over the head with his manila folder.
The uniform turned round, a lean young man with red hair and floppy ears. A little clumsy in his movements he knocked the cap out of the hands of an American soldier.
"Major, Commander – "The Officer turned to Ronnie "Lieutenant. The three of you are on my list from now on. Consider yourselves as closely watched, gentlemen."
"Yes, Sir!" Arthur stiffened. Getting told off by a Major General on your first day was probably not the best tactic to get through the following nine months.
"Got that." Mr. Eames winched. "Ronnie, you heard him. Behave." He grinned. Ronnie turned back facing the front, but Arthur was sure he heard him mumble some not very nice names in Gaelic for the Major General.
After Professor Dawson had explained a little more about Dreamsharing they were dismissed with the order to assemble in the same room at 10 pm. again.
Arthur stretched and waited patiently for the others to leave their row. Commander Eames simply climbed over the chairs and made his way out behind a group of female Swedish Officers.
In the lobby someone had set up a cold buffet nearly disappearing behind dark clouds of uniforms. Arthur watched the bustling crowd and flicked through his manila folder. It contained maps of Camp Erne, thick papers with job specifications labeled 'Forger', 'Architect', 'Extractor, 'Point Man', 'Chemist' and instruction manuals. On top he found letters explaining the purpose of this training, an event for NATO-soldiers from around the world. There was also a red sheet listing the risks. Arthur sighed and shut the folder. He would have enough time to read all that in whichever vehicle would take them to Camp Erne.
"So, what's your speciality?" someone asked behind him, and he didn't have to turn to know it was Commander Eames.
"I don't know yet." Arthur lied, hoping to get out of the conversation.
"I'm aiming for forger." Commander Eames said. "That would be turning my avocation into my profession."
"I'm sorry, your avocation?" Arthur asked in disbelief. The man forged in his free time?
"I'm sure they have thesauruses here, avocation should be listed under 'a'." The Brit mocked.
"I am perfectly capable of working out what avocation means. Consider telling me what you forge?"
"Anything, really. They chucked me out of school for forging reports. Nowadays it's mostly poker chips, medical certificates… love letters are twenty pounds a page. Interested?" Commander Eames emptied his drink.
"No thanks." Arthur replied.
"No gal?" His counterpart wanted to know.
"No. Didn't anyone notice your forging until now?" Somehow this cheeky Officer intrigued him.
Commander Eames smirked. "Sure as hell they did."
"And?"
"That's why I'm here."
Arthur gulped. "You didn't get dishonorably discharged?"
"No."
"But forging is highly illegal!"
"Let me sum you up, Arthur." Commander Eames said slowly. "You don't gamble, you always toe the line, you follow your commanding Officer like a puppy follows his lordling, you don't have a girl, you are not involved in illegal activities – I think I know your speciality."
"And that would be?"
Commander Eames tapped Arthur's manila folder with his right index finger. "See if they have a job specification for 'Stick in the Mud'. It would suit you."
Hooray, chapter 1 finished. How was it? Not too many mistakes, I hope. Leave a review if you liked it, it would brighten my mood a great deal.