July 21st, 2011 – Day 1742 and counting

It's been ten days since Summers took over my life. I went from despair to denial to anger to resignation, and not necessarily in that order. He's going to be in my life for who knows how long, so I keep telling myself all I need to do is endure. Sooner or later, someone is going to need my talents more than Summers wants his answers, and I'll be shipped out to another mission. Yet I have no illusions: it might take a while.

I've been dreaming a lot these days, about a certain brunette, her hacker friend, and my other older self. If only dreams could come true.


Chapter Twenty-Nine
Coming Through


At first, Max had woken up every day with a sense that he was forgetting something and then he'd dismiss it. Summers had moved into a more aggressive exercise routine now that he had a better base-line, but Max was sure the electroshock therapy would make an appearance sometime soon. That or something else.

Like every single test in his life, he was expected to ace it. To get better at handling his newfound power. To be all he could be. If he didn't start showing improvements soon, then he risked Summers getting really creative about it.

The problem was that Max couldn't just suddenly be good at it. He couldn't condensed four months of his own practice into a few days in the lab. If Summers found out for how long he'd known he could do this, he would be digging his own figurative grave.

When Max woke up on the thirteenth day of his new life, he was sure he was missing something. By the time he reached his bed that night, every single muscle of his body ached, and the headache that split his head in two reminded him in no uncertain terms that he couldn't keep lying to Summers. He had to give the guy something before he decided the only way he was going to get answers was with a scalpel to his brain.

At this point, would that make any difference? He was too tired to answer himself. He fell asleep without even changing to pants.

"There you are!" a voice greeted him with relief. Max blinked. His head didn't hurt so much, but his body still felt heavy. Lying on his bed, all he could see was the ceiling. He couldn't move.

"If I had known dreamwalking you was going to be this hard, I would have started years ago," the voice was nice enough, but Max couldn't see anyone. He couldn't get up either.

"Don't fight it, or you're going to wake us up. Just, relax."

The last time he'd heard someone telling him to relax had been a lifetime ago. All Summers wanted was to keep him stressed out. Regardless, he tried. He was too tired to fight this, anyway.

John was there a second later. Max turned to look around, afraid someone was going to see him.

"Hey, it's okay. You're dreaming."

"What?"

"We've been having this conversation for the past eight nights," John said with a resigned sigh. "I've been trying to contact you through your dreams. I guess you must be pretty wiped out if I'm getting such a clear reception tonight."

"You're real?"

"Yes. Are they letting you go out?"

Real? He was real?

"Max?"

"How can you do this?"

"Practice. Motivation. We spent a lot of time separated with my wife, who would kill me if she knew what I'm trying to do. Now, Max, would they let you out of the base?"

"Summers wants a breakthrough. I'm not giving him any."

"Do it," John said in all seriousness. "Summers is always happy when he gets things going. It'll be easier to convince him to let you go for a couple of hours. We'll take it from there. And Max, please remember this time around."

When the alarm clock went off the next morning, Max opened his eyes and stared at the red numbers. He had a job to do.

Summers greeted him with an absent wave as he looked over the stats.

"I need a break," Max said, the aid behind him stopping in mid motion to get his jacket off as if Max had confessed he was going to escape.

"I need results," Summers said without looking up. "You get your breaks when your fix is needed," he stated, putting the charts down and looking icy eyes at him.

"Let me work this out on my own. Today, tomorrow. If I make good progress, then give the time out for a couple of days."

Summers arched an eyebrow, skeptic. "Look," Max tried again, "I'm just too worried about getting enough flashes I don't really pay attention to the quality of them. Maybe I can change that and earn my break at the same time."

This time, Summers contemplated the deal. In Max's mind, the plan was simple: if John really talked to him in his dreams, he would attempt contacting Max for the following two nights, and would learn if Max had been allowed to go out. On the other hand, if it had been only wishful thinking and no one was out there waiting for him, well… he could really use the time out of this place.

An eternity later, Summers nodded. "Okay, let's try it your way."