For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.
Previously: There's trouble at the docks when the projections are onto the shared-dreaming team. Penelope realizes something's wrong when Eames protects her instead of the team protecting Eames. A level above, Yusuf is having trouble with projections, too. As the dreamers descend a level amid the chaos, Eames and Cobb come up with a plan to ensure that Penelope is still on their side. Arthur isn't pleased that Cobb winds up firing at the scientist and forger, but the plan works, for the moment.
He was tearing through the English countryside when he realized that he was no longer being chased. The adrenaline was still pumping through his dream-rattled brain though he was starting to calm down since he was no longer being shot at. While he didn't mind the rush of the excitement-that part he kind of liked, actually-he didn't care for the idea of spending the rest of his "days" in Limbo.
He pulled the limousine off to the side of the road for a moment. Turning in his seat, he looked at his passengers fully.
Penelope was calm again.
"If I wasn't afraid of pulling out your IV," he said, "I'd bring you up here with me. It'd be more than helpful to know when that's coming..."
He looked at his watch. He still had more time than he wanted to spend on the look-out for would-be killers.
When he got done with this job, he was going to think long and hard before telling Cobb he'd go along with another one of these schemes. He actually missed his little corner of Mombasa, surrounded by his chemicals, his compounds, and his cat. The money wasn't anywhere near as good but the safety couldn't be matched.
Running a hand through his hair, he realized there was a very big difference between this mission and the previous one. For starters, he wasn't making double the money. He was only making one share. And Arthur's pockets weren't anywhere as deep as Saito's.
A Saito mission, he wouldn't mind taking part in again.
He wondered how to go about seeing if the Japanese businessman needed another dream-walking job.
Dreaming in first class had been much nicer than dreaming in a dingy warehouse.
Exhaling, he looked forward again, easing the limousine back onto the road. He still had a while to go before the kick, and more than a few miles to cover to get there.
Arthur was brooding.
Cobb could tell the point man was still annoyed at the ploy to stop Penelope from asking questions. While he was content to let the younger man wander in silence for the first hour of the search, it troubled him when it continued into the second.
Cobb knew just how much time they had to spend on that level. More than that, he knew that Arthur could be more stubborn than anyone he'd ever met. And spending all of those hours in silence wasn't something Cobb was sure he could handle.
"She wasn't hurt."
Arthur scoffed.
"The bullets didn't even hit the ground anywhere close to her."
"Doesn't negate the fact that you shot at my sister."
"Arthur-"
"You couldn't even shoot at your own wife's projection when she killed me in Saito's dream, but you have no problems firing your weapon at my living sister where, if you'd hit her, she'd have gone to Limbo. The entire mission would've ended in failure with one wild shot."
"I'm a good shot."
"But not a perfect one," Arthur said harshly.
"It wasn't the most ideal of situations, no," Cobb conceded, "but it needed to be done. We needed a way to keep her occupied while we looked for more clues to unlocking her subconscious. It was fast and it was dirty, I'll admit."
"It was a cheap shot, a low blow. No doubt all through up by Eames when you performed it the first time." Arthur's voice dripped with contempt.
"It was a collaborative effort. Besides, you were okay with him earlier."
"That was before."
"We're close to finishing this one," Cobb reminded.
"I know."
"It doesn't really matter if you don't like him... You really need to trust him."
"With brilliant ideas like that one? Not sure I can do either."
Cobb sighed.
"This is taking too long. Split up," Arthur said. "I'll head north and east."
Cobb watched as Arthur continued on by himself. The extractor could only shake his head.
They sat through a prayer service, complete with singing and communion, before Penelope finally decided it might be best for them to leave the back pew of the chapel. There was only so much of friendly, religious projections even she could take. She offered Eames his jacket back.
The forger's face lit up at the prospect of getting out of that nightmare.
It even brought a faint smile to her lips.
"Where are we heading?" he asked, standing and slipping his jacket on, straightening the cuffs on his shirt.
"Well... Somewhere we won't alert any attention."
"I'm sure we can find something to do," he said, guiding her out of the church and into the cool night air. It was quite a difference from the early afternoon sun they'd been under when they first appeared in that dream level.
She pulled her sweater around her a little tighter, walking with him quietly.
He'd hoped she'd start talking first, that she'd pick something to keep them occupied. When she didn't, he looked at her, seeing the same thoughtful, hurt expression he'd seen on Arthur's face before. While it didn't bother him on the point man's face, he didn't care for it darkening her features. "Do you want to grab a bite?" he asked as they passed a restaurant.
She looked over at him. "Are you actually hungry?"
He shrugged. "Not really." If it had been real life, he would've been starved. As they were coasting in the dreamworld, the notion that they needed to eat kept rattling around his brain but the need was missing. He glanced around, at other options. "Looks like there's a club, we could go dancing again."
She shook her head.
He sighed softly. "Penelope..."
She stopped, looking at him.
"This... This isn't a bad thing, what we're doing here."
"And what is that, exactly? Because I really don't know."
Eames chose his next words carefully as he noticed the crowds milling about. He wasn't about to tell her anything in front of the projections. "Let's... find some place to chat, then."
She nodded slowly, following him as he led her to the playground at the park. She sat on one of the empty, abandoned swings, holding loosely onto the chains.
Eames leaned against the metal supports, watching her as she drifted slightly back and forth.
"So..." Penelope prompted.
"So," he began haltingly, "what do you know?"
"What do I know? Or what do I think I know?"
"Take your pick."
"You aren't a diplomat."
"Is that a certainty or a theory?"
"Well, you can easily confirm or deny..." She had the slightest hint of a smile on her lips, but only for a fleeting second.
It was in that brief moment he could see, very clearly, the difference between her and her brother. When faced with adversity, Arthur lost all levity, all air around him. Penelope, on the other hand, had a touch of humor about her. It had the potential to diffuse the situation. "Touché, my dear."
"So, why won't you just tell me, get it over with, get it out in the open?"
Because, he was afraid that the projections would turn on them, all of them, the moment the truth left his lips. "Why do you think we're here?"
"Something about me."
"What makes you think that?"
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Because you've worked with them before, with Arthur and Dom..."
"Doesn't mean I'm working with them now."
"Doesn't mean you aren't," she challenged. "But, it does mean you aren't who you've said you were, who you told me you were... who they told me you were. Smart money is on your having worked with them, with all of them, and that you're working with them now."
"That's what you'd bet on, is it?" he asked.
"It is. And, given my history, Mr. Eames, I don't make a bet I can't win."
"It's an interesting thought. That's what you do, isn't it? Hypothesize... and then experiment. You try to prove them right."
"That is the basic scientific formula, sure."
He leaned toward her slightly. "You're in a dream. None of this is real. Scary thought, but true." He hated it, telling her that, trying to intentionally deceive her, but he had to. They still had another two levels of dreaming to go through, they still had so much time before the kick. If he could keep her mind occupied, if he could have her running in circles, the projections would be less likely to be chasing after any of the dreamers.
It wasn't his most ideal situation, but it was a necessary evil.
She stopped swinging, sitting perfectly still, trying to process it all. She shook her head. "No. You... you're real. You were there, in the warehouse, when we started descending..."
"You were told who I was before you started to dream, right?" Off her slow nod, he continued. "Maybe you just projected me into this world. That's a possibility, isn't it?"
"You... you knew Arthur, you knew Dom..."
"Do I?"
"Yes. You did. You do," she said, getting to her feet.
"Prove your theory."
She stilled, silent, trying to think of ways she could test it. Killing him would send him into Limbo, and she didn't wish that particular outcome on anyone. "You have to be real."
"How?"
"You were hooked up to the PASIV device in the warehouse."
"Was I?"
She stopped, trying to think back. Of course, the harder she tried to remember, the harder it became to remember.
Eames took advantage of the moment she had turned from him, her dark eyes darting across the grounds, struggling to put the pieces together, to recall what she thought she knew. He changed his posture, standing straighter. He made his eyes dark, even darkened his hair. He changed his body type, his facial features. He mimicked someone she was familiar with, someone she trusted.
When she turned back around, she gasped, seeing her brother standing before her. "Arthur...? Wh... No, wait, there was..."
"Remember your job, Penelope. Remember what you're supposed to be doing," he told her.
She could scarcely find her voice as she spoke again: "This isn't right..."
Eames as Arthur gave a half-shrug, responding in his best authoritative and flat voice: "House always wins, Penelope. You know that."
Ariadne wasn't sure she liked the waterspouts on the horizon. She knew she hadn't put them there. Someone else had.
They hadn't been in the other dream too long. She was still close enough to the shoreline that she could see her fake District of Columbia in the distance. She wasn't anywhere near close to the kick. She hadn't heard the musical cue.
But the twin waterspouts looked foreboding and dangerous.
She glanced back at her charges, at Arthur. When he was asleep was about the only time he seemed at all relaxed. There weren't lines in his face, there wasn't concern in his expression. It was nice to see him like that. It made her think that there would be other times, possibly, when they weren't doing a job, where he might look like that.
Cobb's face was impassive, calm. She had to admit that this job was much different from the previous one. She wasn't looking over her shoulder for Mal to come creeping out of the shadows, or for a random freight train to come bursting through the scene. Cobb had come a long way in a short amount of time. He'd finally let go.
The forger had fallen asleep with his head tipped back but now that she'd looked at him again, he was facing Penelope. Even his hand was stretched toward her. He should've been under such deep sedation that he wouldn't have moved. Certainly Cobb, Arthur and Penelope hadn't.
With the boat still progressing toward the kick point, Ariadne left the controls for a brief moment, checking on the IV line between the PASIV device and Eames. If there was a kink in the line, if he'd managed to pull one of the twin needles from his vein, it might account for the movement.
The line was clear and straight, however, from the case to his arm. Both needles were squarely beneath his skin.
"You aren't causing these, are you?" she asked, not that he could answer. She looked at the anomalies, how the spinning vortices seemed to be picking up speed and intensity, growing larger, more sinister.
Sighing, she crossed back to the boat's controls, ensuring that they were still on course. Biting her lower lip, she checked her watch. "C'mon, Yusuf. Anytime you want to start the music, I'm ready." She was ready for the kick, she was ready for the dream to be over, for the mission to be accomplished.
She was ready for dry land. For real land.
He slowed to a stop when he saw the two figures in the darkened park. He'd been searching the outskirts of the town, coming up with nothing in the dimming twilight. As night descended, he'd moved closer to the bright street lights. While the park was in the middle of town, it was deserted except for two figures at the swings, one swinging back and forth and one standing.
Given the lack of other projections, he could only assume that it was Penelope and Eames.
But as she stood, the man looked an awful lot like Arthur instead.
Cobb narrowed his eyes. Had Arthur changed the play without telling him? Had he missed the memo?
He slowly approached them. Maybe the point man had found the clue and they could descend another dream level. It wouldn't be long before the kick music would start and they would need to hustle. He hurriedly tried to close the distance, but stopped when he saw the transformation.
When he saw Arthur turn into Eames.
It had been the forger the entire time. While he guessed it was possible for Eames to mimic Arthur, he wouldn't have imagined the forger would be so bold to try, not to the point man's own sister.
He hung back, watching as Eames tried to reach out to her, that she backed away from him, panicked. She held her hand up to him, pointing at him, sending him retreating a step. Cobb hadn't seen the two of them together for more than just moments in passing in the dream. He'd seen them as they descended dream levels, as she'd accused Eames of being something he wasn't.
He remembered that the forger had been silent. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Eames without a quip of some kind before.
But, he remembered, too, how quiet and withdrawn Eames had been during mission prep. Granted, the man was spending an awful lot of time in a room by himself. Maybe it had bled into the actual dream, into the mission, into the work.
Cobb winced, thinking about how Arthur would take that. There were only two levels left, only two layers. The next one was supposed to be Arthur's, but if he didn't trust the forger... if the forger wasn't up to the task... The whole idea made his head hurt.
He wished it hadn't been Penelope who'd been Encapsulated. He wished it had been someone, anyone else, someone not related to any of them. Just a random mark. Someone who may have been important to people, but not to any of the core team. Because this kind of a mission was just asking for trouble. If anyone knew how dangerous it was to perform risky operations in a dream world, it was him.
He'd lost his wife because of it.
He'd hate to see Arthur lose his sister.
When she'd turned around and seen him again, her eyes grew large. "No..."
"Penelope..."
"You weren't there. You weren't anywhere, not for two seconds..."
Eames reached out for her, his hand almost finding hers. He didn't get a chance to do much more than brush his fingers against hers as she backed away from him. "Don't."
"Don't? Don't what, Mr. Eames? Don't panic? Don't freak out? Don't worry?" she asked. "You weren't here two seconds ago... I turned around, and my brother was here." She looked for him but Arthur wasn't anywhere close. "Where'd he go?"
"I dunno," he said honestly. After all, he hadn't seen the point man since they'd first entered the dream level.
"Your eyes change color."
"You said that already..."
"What else can you change?"
The fear of being caught, of being found out was a new sensation. He'd always been so good at his job that he had never been discovered before. As such, the look on his face was shock.
"You're a forger, aren't you?" she asked quietly. "It makes sense... Ariadne, the architect. Yusuf, the chemist... Arthur, the point man. Dom, the extractor... And you, keeping me busy. What are they after? What does Dom want?"
"It's not like that," Eames said, shaking his head.
"It's not like what? You aren't invading my dreams? Without my permission?"
"This is Cobb's dream. If Cobb wanted something from you, don't you think he'd have Arthur take this dream? As you've already pointed out, Cobb is the extractor."
"How do I know whose dream this is?" she asked. "You put me under before the device did."
"Technically, Ariadne did..." Seeing her close her eyes tightly, annoyed, he quickly continued, offering her a truth: "It's Cobb's dream."
"I'm supposed to take your word?" she asked, opening her eyes again. Off his halfhearted shrug, she continued. "You were just my brother. You just lied to me. How am I supposed to trust you?"
"We're trying to help you," he reminded.
"What do I need help with?" she asked incredulously.
Eames sighed, realizing he wasn't getting anywhere, and that he wouldn't, not with the answer he had to give her. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"This not telling me business isn't working any better for you," she said darkly.
He looked at her, considering his options. Resignedly, he spoke: "Someone took something from you."
Her expression turned quizzical. "What are you talking about?"
"Someone took something from you. We're here to help you get it back."
"No one Extracted anything from me," she said, shaking her head.
"No," he began. "Someone did something worse."
She paused, realizing the weight of his words, of the unspoken accusations. "The mission I was told about... it was an Encapsulation."
He nodded.
"You're saying..." She drifted off.
"I'm not saying anything," he told her. He watched as her face drained of color, as she leaned against the center post of the swing set. "You're drawing your own conclusions... by the look of them, the right ones." He took a cautious step forward, glad that she wasn't pushing him away this time. "We're close to finding it. Just let us find it, let us unlock it."
She looked up at him, realizing how close he'd gotten, that he was now standing in front of her. "Mr. Eames..."
"Your brother loves you dearly. He gathered us all together to help you. Wouldn't take no for an answer from any of us. We came down here, we're facing the dangers of Limbo for you, because of him. You trust him, don't you?" Off her shaking nod, he said: "Then trust us. Trust me."
He put the limousine into park before poking through the duffel bag in the passenger seat. He pulled the MP3 player from it, unwinding the headphone cord as he climbed out of the car. The hardest part of the job was the timing.
It had to be perfect.
The only good thing about being the first level dreamer was that the kick wasn't as vital to him as it was to the others. The rest of the team had to meet his time table, not the other way around. No matter what was happening on the other levels, he would be fine. The kick wasn't necessary for him to wake up. All he had to wait on was the PASIV device's timer in the warehouse.
Of course, if Arthur didn't make it out, or if they weren't able to complete the mission, he wouldn't get paid.
But, worst case scenario, he'd at least be alive.
He wasn't sure he could say that for his sleeping passengers.
"Time to start thinking about waking up," he said, placing the headphones around Ariadne's ears. Even lifting her head off of Arthur's chest didn't stir her. He smiled a little at that. After all, it was the sign of a job well done on his part.
His chemicals, his compounds in action.
He checked and double checked his watch, sighing when he still had a few more minutes to kill. Thankfully, this job was so very different from the other. He wasn't under duress, under a hail of gunfire. He was able to take his time, to get the timing as close to perfect as he could.
While he hadn't cared that Arthur's timetable was rushed, only partially because he knew the point man would be able to handle it, Ariadne wasn't as advanced as Arthur. Ariadne wouldn't be able to deal with the problems that could arise from pushing the kick. He genuinely liked the architect. He didn't want to make her dream level uncomfortable, not if he could help it.
Idly, as he waited, he wondered what was going on below. He knew Ariadne should be adrift in the deep blue sea by now, that the desert would be nearly deserted, and that the mountainous jungle was next. Triple checking his watch, he smiled as the seconds counted down. "No regrets on this level," he muttered, pressing play.
Coming Attractions...
Lines from the next installment:
Eames brushed a chaste kiss against Penelope's hair lightly. "Pretend like I just said something funny," he whispered.
"What?" she asked, looking up at him curiously.
"Laugh."
She offered a cautious one, one that wasn't convincing in the slightest.
He winced a little, glancing at the display above the elevator. It was stuck on the third floor. While the thought had entered his mind first-a certain option he was about to put into play-he felt like it was a cheap shot, a desperate move. Given the intense gazes from the projections surrounding them, however, he wasn't about to take a chance at failure. He spun her to face him, pulling her close.
"Wh-?"
He cut her off, pressing his lips to hers.
