Inception: Dreams or Reality? Part 1
A/N: Just to let you all know, there are two chapters left for part one of this story.
Read, review, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Inception, Batman, or Doctor Who. I only own the characters that I created.
CHAPTER SIX: ASSEMBLING THE TEAM
Back in Paris, Arthur and Emma were in the workshop: Arthur was working on the machine, adding chemicals, Emma was doing some rough sketches of what the levels, guessing that they would be doing at least two levels again, would look like, and they were waiting for word from Cobb of whether he'd gotten Eames on board and if he knew anything else about their target.
They both looked around when they heard a small cough and were pleasantly surprised to see Ariadne, proving that Cobb had been right…again.
"Cobb said you'd be back," Arthur remarked as they both stood up, Emma setting aside her sketchpad.
"I tried not to come," Ariadne admitted sheepishly; she had tried really, really hard not to return to the workshop, but the experience of the dream world, even with being stabbed by Mal…
"But there's nothing else quite like it," Emma guessed, exchanging a smile with her husband, for they both had gone through something similar after sharing the dream for the first time.
Ariadne nodded. "No paper, no pens…nothing between you and raw, direct creation."
'Yup, she is hooked,' Arthur thought, nodding as he closed the case. "Shall we take a look at some paradoxical architecture?" he suggested and Ariadne nodded eagerly, taking off her coat.
Soon the trio were in the dream world, which now looked like an office complex made out of glass and steel, and Ariadne followed the couple as they walked up a flight of busy stairs that curved near the top.
"You're going to have to master a few tricks if you're going to build at least two complete dream levels," Arthur explained as they passed a woman, who had dropped some papers on the stairs. "Excuse us."
"What sort of tricks?" Ariadne asked as they turned a corner and continued up a new flight of stairs.
"In a dream, you can cheat architecture into impossible shapes," Arthur explained as they kept walking up the stairs. "That lets you create closed loops, like the Penrose Steps. The infinite staircase." And when they walked past the same woman, who was still picking up her papers, Ariadne realized that they were still on the same staircase and were still going up the stairs, and he stopped them when they reached the highest step. "See?"
Ariadne looked down and her jaw dropped at the slight of a large drop that led to the next step of the second staircase.
"Paradox," Emma told her as they turned to go back down the stairs. "And it's a good idea to remember where you put them, or you might accidentally fall a long way down." and Ariadne nodded, taking mental notes.
"And a closed loop like this helps you disguise the boundaries of the dream you've created," Arthur added.
"How big do the levels have to be?" Ariadne asked as they reached the ground floor, recalling the dream city.
"Anything from the floor of a building, to an entire city," Emma answered. "But it has to be complicated enough for us to hide from the projections."
"A maze," Ariadne suggested.
Arthur nodded. "And the better the maze-"
"The longer we have before the projections catch us," Ariadne concluded, looking around at the people, who were currently ignoring them. "My subconscious seems polite enough," she commented.
Emma and Arthur laughed uneasily as one of the men glanced at them, a sure sign that they were starting to become aware. "You wait, they'll turn ugly. No one likes to see someone else messing around in their mind."
Ariadne thought about that and something occurred to her, something concerning Cobb wanting her to do the building of the dreams. "Cobb can't build anymore, can he?" she asked finally.
Arthur shrugged as they stopped walking. "I don't know if he can't, but he won't," he admitted. "He thinks it's safer if he doesn't know the layouts."
"Why?" Ariadne inquired.
"He won't tell us," said Emma, sighing. "But we think it's Mal."
Ariadne recalled Cobb shouting the name "Mal" in the dream, and figured that was the Mrs. Cobb that had attacked her. "His ex-wife?"
The couple shook their heads, wondering where she'd come up with that one. "She's not his ex."
"They're still together?" Ariadne asked, surprised.
"No," Arthur said as gently as he could, especially since it was a sore subject. "No, she's dead, Ariadne. What you see in there is just his projection of her."
Ariadne was shocked and quickly backtracked on what she thought was true. "What was she like in real life?" she asked, shaken.
"She was lovely," Arthur responded quietly.
"And a good friend," Emma added sadly. "She and I were childhood friends, and why her projection is so violent, it's a mystery."
Back in Mombasa and making sure that they had lost Cobol's agents, Eames, Saito, and Cobb followed a young boy, who led them to a building that was being guarded by a man with a club, and Eames paid him before they nodded to the guard and headed up the stairs; inside was a pharmacy with rows upon row of wooden shelves holding hundreds of dusty glass bottles of all shapes and colors. At the far end of the room was a portly 40-year-old man, Yusuf, who rose from behind his desk, and beckoned to them.
"Come, come," said Yusuf, and he shook Eames' hand before fixing his eyes on Cobb, smiling slightly, almost as if he knew something about the young man. "Ah, yes. Mr. Cobb," he said pleasantly. "I've heard so very much about you." He then indicated several chairs. "Please."
As Saito moved to sit in one of the chairs, Yusuf quickly moved around his desk and chased a tabby cat off the chair. "Bloody cats," he muttered, moved to a shelf and ran his fingers over the glass bottles, which didn't have any labels, as the three men sat down, after making sure that there weren't any other cats. "You work using Somnacin, I think,
Mr. Cobb?"
Cobb nodded watching as Yusuf selected a glass bottle filled with an orange liquid, and carried it over to the desk. "You're well informed, Mr. Yusuf," he remarked, and then eyed the bottle dubiously as the older man set it down in front of him. "Somnacin?"
"Yusuf's Somnacin," Yusuf answered proudly as he removed the stopper and held the bottle toward Cobb's nose.
Cobb sniffed and was intrigued by the unique smell. "As good as the real thing?" he asked.
Frowning, Yusuf pulled the bottle away, clearly offended. "Better." He then held the bottle up to the light, letting them admire the liquid inside. "Binds the dreamers tight," he explained. "Let's them dream as one. Makes it real." He then smirked. "Of course, if you'd prefer, you could use Somnacin brand. If you could explain to the international control council what you wanted it for."
Yusuf then put the bottle back on the self and sat down behind his desk. "You are seeking a chemist?" he asked and Cobb nodded. "To formulate compounds for a job?"
"And to come into the field with us," Cobb added.
Yusuf shook his head. "No, I rarely go into the field, Mr. Cobb."
"We need you there to tailor compounds to our particular requirements," Cobb explained.
"Which are?" Yusuf asked, curious.
"Great depth," Cobb responded.
Yusuf nodded, knowing what he meant. "A dream within a dream. Two levels."
"Three," Cobb corrected.
"Not possible," Yusuf pointed out. "That many dreams within dreams would be too unstable."
"I've done it before," Cobb stated, ignoring the questioning looks from Eames and Saito. "You just have to add a sedative."
"A powerful sedative," Yusuf agreed, wondering when it was that Cobb had gone down three levels. "How many team members?" he asked.
"Six," Cobb answered.
"Seven," Saito corrected, getting surprise looks from Cobb and Eames while Yusuf stood and searched the shelves. "The only way to know you've done the job is if I go in with you," he explained.
"There's no room for tourists on these jobs, Mr. Saito," Eames objected.
Saito smirked. "This time, it would seem there is."
Cobb looked at him uneasily and then returned his attention to Yusuf, who had selected another orange-filled glass bottle, and set it on the desk. "I think this is a good place to start," he told them, nodding to the bottle. "I use it every day."
"For what?" Cobb asked, eying the orange liquid.
"I'll show you," Yusuf offered, picking up a large ring of keys and then paused, almost as if he was having second thoughts. "Perhaps…you will not want to see."
Cobb, on the other hand, picked up the bottle and stood up, gesturing to the older man as Eames and Saito followed suit. "After you."
Unlocking a door with one of the keys, Yusuf led them down a flight of stairs into the basement of the building, and it was there that they saw an unusual sight: beyond was a dark room filled with rows of low cots; on each cot was a sleeping occupant with tubes connected to their wrists, and a elderly bald man was watching over them. When he saw the group, he immediately stood up.
"Nineteen, twenty," Eames quietly counted, stunned by the number of sleepers. "All connected, bloody hell."
"They come every day," Yusuf informed the three men as they wandered around the room. "To share the dream." And he nodded to the elderly man, who went over to the nearest sleeper, reached over, and slapped the man's face hard, but the sleeper didn't even react. "See? Very stable."
Cobb nodded, still staring at the sleepers. "How long do they dream?" he asked.
"Three, four hours," Yusuf answered. "Every day."
"How long in dream time?" Cobb inquired, eying the tubing, which was hooked onto the ceiling so that they wouldn't accidentally trip on it.
Yusuf shrugged. "With this compound…about forty hours. Each and every day."
Saito stared around the room, clearly appalled by what he was seeing. "Why do they do it?" he asked.
"Tell him, Mr. Cobb," Yusuf suggested.
"After a while," Cobb explained and looked at the Japanese businessman, "it becomes the only way you can dream."
"Do you still dream, Mr. Cobb?" Yusuf asked, and Cobb looked away, feeling very uneasy by both what he was seeing, and by the question.
Eames examined one of the sleepers, frowning. "They come here every day to sleep?" he asked.
"No," said the elderly man, and Cobb turned to face him as he looked fondly at the sleepers. "They come to be woken up…the dream has become their reality…" He then poked a finger at the young man's chest. "And who are you to say otherwise?"
Cobb was unnerved by the fact that the old man had read him so easily; pulling himself together, he handed the bottle to Yusuf and took his coat off. "Let's see what you can do."
Soon Cobb was lying on a cot, sleeping, and was hooked up onto a machine while Yusuf, Eames, and Saito watched; after a few seconds, he began twitching and shifting in his sleep as memories involving Mal, a train, and her whispering to him in their living room flashed through his mind – then his eyes snapped open and he sat up, breathing hard.
"Sharp, no?" Yusuf asked, curious as to what it was that the young man had been dreaming about so intensely.
Cobb nodded, removed the tubes, stood, and then headed for the restroom.
"Come on," Cobb muttered, splashing cold water onto his face, trying to rid himself of the lingering dream, and the memory of Mal sitting on a window edge, the wind blowing her hair, and a sad smile on her face. "Come on." Breathing hard still, he fumbled for his top and tried to spin it, only to have it fall on the floor instead.
"Everything alright, Mr. Cobb?" Saito asked from the doorway, eying the younger man with concern, and he then glanced down at the top.
"Everything's fine," Cobb lied as he turned off the water, snatched up the top and pocketing it as he used a paper towel to dry his face, walking past Saito, who didn't look convinced, but didn't push the issue either…for now.
Later that same day on a rooftop with three chairs and a table, Saito handed Cobb, who was more composed, and Eames two folders.
"Robert Fischer, 32," Saito informed, sitting down across from Cobb. "Heir to the Fischer Morrow energy conglomerate. He's spent his whole life being groomed as successor – breaking up his father's empire will take a radical shift in his thinking."
Cobb raised his eyebrows as he flipped through the various photos and documents. "What's your problem with Fischer?" he asked.
"That's not your concern," said Saito coldly.
Cobb sighed. "This isn't the usual corporate espionage, Mr. Saito," he pointed out. "This is inception. The seed of the idea we plant will grow in this man's mind. It'll change him. It might even come to define him."
Saito raised his eyebrows, eying the young man while Eames watched them both. "My sources suggest you might not have always been so cautious," he remarked.
"Then you need new sources, Mr. Saito," Cobb countered with a hint of challenge in his voice.
Saito considered this and then sighed. "Fischer Morrow has the regulators in their pockets," he explained. "We're the last company standing between them and total energy dominance and we can no longer compete. Soon they'll control the energy supply of half the world. They'll be able to blackmail governments, dictate policy. In effect, they become a new superpower." And he thumped the table. "The world needs Robert Fischer to change his mind."
"That's where we come in," Eames remarked, flipping through the folder. "How's Robert Fischer's relationship to his father?" he inquired.
"Rumor is the relationship is complicated," Saito responded.
"We'll need more than rumor, Mr. Saito," said Cobb thoughtfully, pausing on a news article about the father and son, the title saying something about them being at odds.
"Can you get me access to him?" Eames asked, showing them the picture of a man with white hair. "Browning. Fischer senior's right-hand man. Fischer junior's godfather."
Saito nodded. "It should be possible," he agreed. "If you can get the right references."
Eames grinned slyly. "References are something of a specialty for me, Mr. Saito."
In a different part of the world, Henri Ducard was looking through some papers in a study when a man entered and bowed. "Yes?"
"Sire, Cobb was spotted in Momabsa," the man reported. "He is assembling a new team and is gathering information on Robert Fischer."
Henri nodded. "Very well, keep me inform." And went back to his work as the man bowed and left.
A/N: I hope you all are enjoying this and please post reviews to let me know what you all think. R&R everyone!