Chapter One: Partnerships Don't Last

Arthur Blechner stood at the hotel bar, a martini in his right hand. He kept angling the glass, watching the surface of the liquid shift back and forth, the dim yellow light reflecting off of it. He had ordered it an hour ago and not yet put the glass to his lips.

He wasn't deep in thought at that moment, but he had been. For the last week since he had finished with the Fischer job, he had been wracking his brain trying to find an answer. But his mind had exhausted itself, and was suddenly beautifully and peacefully clear, no longer possessed by the question, What do I do now?

It was done, his and Cobb's partnership. Done. Gone. Kaput. Without Cobb, his business was done. He had no extractor, so no one had any use for him. Arthur's job had always been the researcher, the wingman, the co-director. But he couldn't navigate the dream world like some people. Without the skills to properly manipulate and read dreams, he was useless in the game of mental espionage.

When he realized he had lost his partner, he had gone to Ariadne at once. She was new, sure, inexperienced. But she was also brilliant. She had managed, on her first job, to construct three fantastic dream levels and venture into limbo and pull herself and another person out of it. Most of all, she had gotten Cobb to trust her with his secrets. Arthur hadn't even been able to do that, and he'd been working with the guy for nine years. With a little work, she could become a great extractor.

"Look, Arthur," she said, "I don't really think that I want to do that."

He had snorted. "Please, I saw the way you looked when we were venturing into the worlds you created. You can't live solely in the real world. It's the reason you accepted the job in the first place."

They had been in a private dining room at the Hilton, full plates in front of them.

"Well, yeah, but after what happened, I think I've experienced enough for the time being. I don't want to end up as messed up as Cobb. Maybe someday I'll do it again, but not now. I'm going back to Paris, back to school." She stood up and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder. "I'm getting on a plane in three hours. Thanks for lunch."

Arthur knew then that it was pointless. If she had already made the arrangements, not even waiting for anyone to proposition her, it meant she really wasn't interested. Arthur was surprised she was willing to meet with him at all. He watched her go, his stomach sinking.

Now here he was, in one of his favorite old New York haunts, his mind positively exhausted and no closer to an answer.

To his surprise, a glass of scotch on ice was pushed toward him. He looked up to see the last person on Earth he wanted or expected to see.

She stood a couple of feet from him, a smile playing on her full, wine-colored lips, her brown eyes twinkling.

"I haven't had scotch in nine years," he said coldly.

"Well you know me, Arthur, I've always had a soft spot for old things."

It was true, anybody could tell that just by looking at her, with her vintage clothes and glossed Veronica Lake style brown hair. She wore a dark teal sleeveless cocktail dress with ruffles at the shoulders and a matching purse and flats. But hanging from her neck, clashing with her fifties style ensemble, was a coiled silver serpent on red string. Arthur had always hated that thing, mostly because she had been wearing it ever since she had broken his heart five years ago.

"Besides, since you're obviously not enjoying your current drink of choice at the moment, I thought you might prefer a little blast from the past."

He scowled at her. "Gypsy, what do you want with me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Right, as if you're the only one who frequents this place? How do you know I didn't just come in here for a drink? Why does my presence here have to be about you?"

He didn't. She actually came to this bar a lot whenever she was in New York. But he always felt suspicious of her whenever they crossed paths. It was strange, considering whenever he thought of her, the feelings he had usually were not hostile. But there was a huge difference between the person you build inside your head and the real deal. He had entered into enough dreams to know that. Whenever the Gypsy inside his head pointed out the flaws in his logic, it was actually rather charming, even cute. In real life, it was frustrating.

"Well then why did you bother approaching me?" He asked, knowing it was a weak question.

"Well, we have known each other for seventeen years, were best friends for seven and lovers for five. Half a decade has passed, more than enough time for us to move on and no longer have to feel any real animosity towards one another. We both happened to be in the same place and you looked very much alone. Why wouldn't I approach you? It's what people do when they see someone they know well but haven't seen in a while."

"The way you talk, you almost sound like you've missed me." Arthur said, his lip curling.

"Who says I haven't?" She replied earnestly. "Of course I've missed you. You were such a significant part of my life, how could I not?"

"Is that why we've spoken so little?"

"No, the reason we haven't spoken is because you severed contact between us after we broke up." She reminded him. "I never wanted to stop being friends, you did."

Arthur opened his mouth to make a retort, but she held a hand up.

"Let's no dive into that, please? What's done is done and this is hardly the time or place to drag that all out again. Why don't we just try to keep it civil, alright? We're both adults."

Arthur sighed and put the Martini down and took a sip of the scotch. He had forgotten how comfortable he felt when drinking before he had made the switch to Vodka. But taking a sip, he was reminded of the old warmth he had felt all those years ago. As it turned out, the drink was exactly what he needed, and he felt far calmer than he had. At the same time, it was a little annoying. Even after all these years, Gypsy still knew him well enough to pick the right drink.

"So what are you doing in New York?" He asked her. He wanted more than anything for her to fuck off, but he'd play around with the small talk long enough to prove that he wasn't childish. For some reason, he still cared about what she thought.

"New film." She replied simply. Gypsy was a well-respected filmmaker who mostly did independent work. "And you?"

"I just finished a job." He answered. Gypsy didn't know what he did for a living and thought he was in the CIA. That was because for two years, he actually was. He let her continue to believe that was where he worked after he left and joined Cobb because it gave him an excuse to be secretive.

She nodded. "Must have been a doozy, you look exhausted."

He smiled. "You have no idea."

"Well, that's the point, isn't it?" She said, smiling. "What else has been going on with you? Your father says you two haven't spoken in a while."

Arthur's father was a Physics professor at Yale, where both Gypsy and Arthur had been students. His and Arthur's relationship was not in any way strained or unhealthy, but over the last few weeks, with so much going on, Arthur had lost track and forgotten to call him. He felt a pang of guilt about it, especially since he knew there was no reason for it and that his Dad would be very nice about it. Samuel Blechner was extremely proud of his son and very much attached to him, partly because Arthur's mother had died when Arthur was only three and Sam had raised his son on his own. Gypsy had been one of Samuel's favorite students and the two were close, so it was no surprise that he would confide in her.

"I just lost track of time on this job." He said honestly. When you worked in dreams, your perception of time became rather skewed. "I'll call him soon. How is he?"

"He's doing alright. He misses you, but other than that, he's good. He got some good news, though, the school is giving him a large grant for his String study, bigger than he expected."

"That's great." Arthur made a note to congratulate the old man when they spoke. In fact, he was really very eager to do that just now. "You know, I think I should call him right now."

"Alright. Well, I suppose I'll see you again soon. How long are you going to be in New York?"

"I don't know." He replied, not really liking where this was going.

She opened her purse and pulled out a business card. "Here's my card in case you feel like catching up. It was good seeing you, Stimpy."

Gypsy got up and left. Arthur watched her retreating back and felt a little pain in his chest. No matter how suspicious of her he was, no matter how angry he felt at her for ending their relationship, he still hated watching her walk away. Especially after hearing her use that old pet name.

Arthur paid the tab, left the bar, went up to hotel suite, and dialed his father.

He answered on the second ring.

"Artie!"

Arthur smiled. "Hi, Dad. Sorry I haven't called in a while, I sort of lost track of time."

"That's alright, I know that's easy to do in your line of work." Arthur's father knew what he did for a living and even though Arthur sometimes wondered if it was disappointing to Samuel, his father never said anything judgmental. It was one of the reasons they were so close.

"I hear you got a big grant recently, congratulations." Arthur said.

"Thank you, son. I really am very excited. I've got a terrific team I'm working with."

"Yeah, well, now with this big grant you can move your retirement up a few years."

Samuel was sixty-three and had been teaching for thirty-five years. He deserved to be able to kick back and enjoy his olden years without the pressures of work. Arthur never could understand why he didn't. They had gone through some financial difficulty after Arthur's mom died and they no longer had two salaries to support them, but that time was long gone. Part of the reason Arthur had gotten into dream work was to make enough to support his Dad. Yet Samuel continued to work.

"Yeah… Maybe. But that's not for a while."

"Dad….."

"I'll retire when I have some grandchildren to occupy that time with."

Arthur laughed. "Alright Dad, I'll keep that in mind. Anything else going on?"

"Well, I'm currently grading term papers and fishing out the few gems among them. You know, it really disturbs me sometimes the lack of imagination Physics majors have. It was never like this before."

"Do you want me to call back when you're done?" Arthur asked.

"Hell no! I need the distraction. Was your job a success?"

He smiled. "Have you read the papers lately?"

"Yeah. Did you hear about that Fischer kid dissolving that company? He must be nuts!"

"Well, that was us."

"What?"

"Yeah, we did it. Inception. We planted the idea in his head."

Samuel gave a whistle. "Wow."

"Yeah."

"You don't sound all that excited."

"Well, I lost my partner as a result and with it, my career." Arthur replied. "Now I'm trying to figure out what to do with myself."

"Oh, come now, you can find more work without that Cobb fellow," said Samuel, "There are other extractors, right?"

"Yeah, and only one nearly as good as he is, and they already have a researcher and marksman. Nobody is looking for a point man right now. At least not anyone decent. I tried to get this new team member to start a new partnership, but she wasn't interested. What happened with the last job sort of freaked her out."

"Well, you could find someone if you tried, I'm sure. Don't give up hope." It sounded like he wanted to say something else, but stopped himself.

"Dad? What are you thinking?"

"Well, Artie, you did grow up among some of the greatest minds on Earth. There are probably people you already know who could help you. Maybe someone you know very well who is creative, imaginative, intelligent, tough, and good at understanding emotions."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Arthur lied stiffly.

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out. You didn't start college at thirteen because you lack brains. Anyways, kid, come visit me sometime after the end of the semester, alright? I miss you."

"I miss you too, Dad. And I promise I'll visit."

"Good. I'll speak to you soon. I love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~

Arthur laughed as the waves came up and splashed against his legs, creating a sharp contrast of sensation between the sun glaring down on his chest and stomach and the cold water. God, he loved the beach. He looked up at the sky. There was not a single cloud and the only things that blotted the sky were the birds and occasional plane flying overhead.

"Come on, Stimpy!" Cried a voice from away off. He looked out. About fifteen yards from him was Gypsy, shoulder deep in the water, her brown hair soaked and slicked around her head, a smile on her face, beckoning to him.

Arthur smiled and started making his way over to her. He went ten feet and suddenly a wave caught him, knocking him off his feet and propelling him back to the shore. He could hear her laugh.

"Come on, Stimpy!" She cried, her arms out and open, as if to embrace him. "Get over here!"

Arthur cared forward again. But once he got to the exact same point, he was once again knocked over and thrown back to shore by a large wave. Gypsy kept laughing. Arthur got down on his stomach and starting crawling into the water and began to swim once it got deep enough. This time, he ducked under water when he saw the wave coming, letting it pass over him. Once it passed, he put his head above the surface. Gypsy was suddenly even farther away by ten feet, and still laughing at him.

He swam a little farther, and suddenly, large waves started coming at him. He ducked, but the second one wave passed, another one came so fast he had no time to lift his head. He stayed under water, waiting for them all to pass, but they wouldn't stop. They went on and on and Arthur was starting to run out of air. He held his breath for as long as he could, but the waves wouldn't stop. Finally, when he could no longer take it, he went to the surface, took one miraculous breath and was hit with the full force of a huge wave which once again propelled him back to shore.

Arthur cried out in frustration.

"Stimpy!" Gypsy called. "Come on, I'm waiting!"

"I can't get to you!" He called, "I'm sorry, I just can't! Something is holding me back!"

He wanted more than anything to touch her, to hold her, to be close, but he didn't see how that was possible. He was rowing more frustrated by the second. Why had he chosen this beach? It had seemed like it would be such an adventure, to swim in water with waves like this. It was amazing, but not when it was holding him back like this.

He tried twice more to get to her, but he couldn't. Finally, he lost hope, sat down and waited for her. She kept calling out to him, but he just shook his head.

"I'll wait until you're done!"

The sun went down and Gypsy finally came to shore, looking upset. Arthur got up to pull her into his arms, but she pulled away.

"What's wrong?" He asked her.

"If you couldn't get to me, why didn't you just ask me to come to you?" She asked him, looking hurt. She walked off unhappily.

Arthur's eyes flew open. He took several deep breaths, sat up, and turned his bedside lamp on. As he remembered the dream, he spoke.

"Shit!"