A few months after what Ariadne would forever remember as "The Inception", the architecture student found herself sipping a coffee in a cafe, gazing out at the sunny Parisian street.
The newspaper in front of her held the headline: "Energy Market Remains in Uproar as Surprise Fisher-Morrow Conglomerate Dissolution Proceeds".
She sighed. Not every day that you know how an article will go before even reading it. Instinctively, she reached for an small item in her pocket: a single golden bishop, a piece that would remain ever-upright in her dreams…
…but not so much in reality.
Pure creation, she had said. And it was true. There was simply nothing to match it, not in the waking world.
And apart from that…
In that single incident she had been exposed to human emotion at what was possibly its rawest, most base form. In the few days proceeding after that, she had nearly lost her ability to speak.
She sighed once more.
A giggle (not the first, but also not the last) broke her train of thought (that metaphor had been permanently ruined for her) and she turned towards the source: a neighbouring table, where a blonde in a purple dress with a strange cap was laughing with her friend, a brunette in a white blouse and dark brown skirt. Briefly, she considered telling them off, before thinking that she would probably be overstepping her bounds.
Not really wanting to languish here any longer, she made to stand and leave, but was stopped by the vibration of her smartphone in her pocket.
Incoming call, unknown number. Probably a telemarketer, but she answered anyway.
"Miss Ariadne. I need your help."
The voice was insistent, to the point, and almost held desperation.
It was also the voice of a familiar middle-aged Asian man–or, to be more specific, that of a Japanese billionaire, who was a CEO to a major energy corporation.
Her grip tightened on her phone. She heard before an adage that a prison friendship that continued after prison was bad news. Perhaps the same could be said of relations formed in a "not-strictly-speaking-legal" job?
~~[c]~~
The night saw her back in her student dorm, staring at the screen of her laptop in a video conference.
Saito's face, looking more haggard than she had ever saw him, even when he had been bleeding out of a gunshot in his chest, looked back at her.
"Mr Saito," she said. "I'm not sure why, out of all people, you contacted me."
The CEO laughed. "To be entirely honest, you were not my first choice. I tried contacting Mr Cobb first, but the man said he never wanted to have anything to do with dreams ever again. In fact, were it not for basic manners, the man would probably have shouted at me with several choice words. A shame; both his talents and his capacity as a father would have been valuable."
His capacity as a father? What in the world…?
"That's not quite answering the question, Mr Saito." Ariadne said hesitantly.
"It is a dire situation," Saito said. "While I would normally never trust a verbal promise, I suppose I have no choice were I to request your assistance."
"Promise?"
"To not mention this to anybody else," Saito said. "While this is not illegal by any means, merely experimental, there would still be repercussions should this get out. Ammunition for my business rivals to use, for example."
"Fine." Ariadne said. "I won't mention this conversation, nor your request. But you still haven't mentioned your actual–"
"Yes." Saito gave a deep sigh. "You see, my niece has been hurt quite badly. In a motor accident, while travelling through the mountains. For the past few weeks she has been in a coma, sustained only by life support."
A coma? Surely he doesn't intend to…
"I'm sorry," Ariadne said, out of politeness. "But, and I don't mean to be rude, I don't see where I come in," she continued honestly.
"I am not hiring an architect." Saito's eyes were set. "Rather, I am hiring an extractor. An extractor with experiences outside the norm, with ingenuity and the ability to react to the unexpected."
"You flatter me, Mr Saito. One expedition doesn't mean–"
Saito held up his hand. "An extractor who would be sensitive to the needs of a teenage girl, being a young woman herself," he continued. "And most importantly, an extractor with experience with inception."
Ariadne instantly saw what the CEO was getting at. "No," she said immediately. "I refuse."
"Why the strong reaction, Miss Ariadne?"
"Because planting the idea that 'your reality is all a dream, wake up' in someone's head will–" She could not find the words to convey just how bad it would be.
Mal, Cobb's wife. That's what happened, right?
"It would destroy their sense of reality. Forever." she eventually settled on saying. "Do you really want your niece to wake up and then kill yourself because she thinks she's still dreaming?"
Okay, that came out much harsher than I thought it would.
Saito's face became more ashen. "A kick, then. Find a way to deliver a kick. That should do."
"Surely there are other people more suited to this. Dream therapists, for one." Aridane said placatingly.
"Please keep in mind, Miss Ariadne. This isn't an extraction where the target is fed a constructed dream." Saito said. "I'm basically asking you to delve in my niece's unfiltered subconscious—her soul, if you will–and bring her back into the world of the living. I would not trust that to someone whom I am unfamiliar with, no matter how much money I would offer them."
Ariadne sighed. "And you trust me that much?"
"I know you," Saito said. "That would have to be enough."