Chapter Text
Six months later
IMAGE: a snippet of a newspaper obituary; there is a headshot of a Riko Moriyama in a suit
TRANSCRIPT:
IN MEMORIAM.
In loving memory of RIKO MORIYAMA, aged 26, who sadly passed on 3rd April. He will be missed by his family and friends. He is survived by his father, Tetsuji Moriyama. For full funeral details, please contact New… [the rest of the article is torn off]
“You don’t need them anymore,” says Kevin, as he watches Neil open the safe.
Neil shuffles the folders together – they make up the sum total of their research on Evermore, the Somnacin trials, the patient records, everything. “Just in case.”
They had made a second deal with Ichirou. He would lean on his government contacts and Tetsuji for the illegal human trials to be shut down, and the team would not expose the operation to the public or the press.
“There’s still so much we could find out,” Kevin had argued, though it was a feeble attempt after both Andrew and Neil had glared at him. “I’m sure we can research it in other ways,” he had amended hastily.
And so the deal had been struck. But as Neil said, it was useful to have that evidence around, just in case.
The safe is slim, built inconspicuously into the space between two cupboards of a new apartment Neil and Andrew buy with some of the money they got from the inception job. It’s not the same as the one in limbo, but that’s okay. It’s in Chicago, and it’s on the second floor, and there’s a tiny balcony and it’s conveniently located above a row of takeout restaurants. They’re planning to buy a couple of others around the States, but this is their base at the moment.
The files take up about two thirds of the space in the safe, and Andrew slides a briefcase full of syringes into the remaining space.
Kevin presses his lips together. “Is that safe?”
“It’s a safe,” says Andrew. “It’s supposed to be safe.”
IMAGE: a yellow paper folder, open, with a subject file in it
TRANSCRIPT:
SUBJECT: A MINYARD
HEIGHT: 5’0”
WEIGHT: 145lbs
PROFILE:
Blond Caucasian male. 13% body fat. High BMI, offset by high muscle mass.
SUBJECT NOTES
Exposure to trial EX00476 resulted in addiction to Somnacin solution.
Exposure to trial EX00482 resulted in negative reaction to Somnacin solution. Symptoms included shaking, vomiting, blurred eyesight, muscle spasms, dry mouth and labored breathing.
Symptoms offset using 15ml Omnacsin for each 50ml of Somnacin.
Exposure to EX00482 produced repeated negative reaction to Somnacin solution to all subsequent trials. RECOMMENDATION: continue using 15ml Omnacsin for each 50ml of Somnacin.
TRIAL RESULTS SUMMARY
EX00707: 15 minutes 0 seconds in dream time. 22 kills.
EX00704: 8 minutes 27 seconds in dream time. 12 kills.
EX00703: 12 minutes 56 seconds in dream time. 18 kills.
EX00701: 9 minutes 34 seconds in dream time. 16 kills.
EX00699: 9 minutes 25 seconds in dream time. 15 kills.
EX00697: 9 minutes 21 seconds in dream time. 13 kills.
EX00695: 14 minutes 11 seconds in dream time. 19 kills.
EX00692: 11 minutes 8 seconds in dream time. 20 kills.
EX00690: 15 minutes 0 seconds in dream time. 26 kills.
EX00687: 13 minutes 48 seconds in dream time. 18 kills.
EX00686: 12 minutes 39 seconds in dream time. 16 kills.
EX00684: 11 minutes 17 seconds in dream time. 18 kills.
EX00682: 15 minutes 0 seconds in dream time. 21 kills.
EX00680: 15 minutes 0 seconds in dream time. 24 kills.
Page 1 of 12
“We could do something else,” says Neil. “Something completely different.”
Andrew gives him an unimpressed look. “You would give up dreamsharing.”
Neil shrugs. He’s never had the chance to think about what he’d like to do with his life before. It’s not as if he went to high school and had career guidance, after all. He fell back on dreamsharing because it pays well and because he’s good at it; an easy way to get himself the funds to stay on the move. And yes, because he enjoys it. But his shrugs says it all: he’d give it up for Andrew.
Their proposal is simple - go corporate.
Dreamsharing hasn’t even been publicly acknowledged by world governments yet, which means that there are no laws about it; that’s why things like the human Somnacin trials can exist. There are obviously people who know about it, or they wouldn’t have any clients, but all of Neil’s jobs so far have been illegal – break into someone’s mind and steal a chemical formula or find out if they’re cheating on their spouse.
What they want to do now is a more harmless version of what Dan and Matt do - run all-immersive virtual reality experiences. Andrew had snorted when Neil came up with that phrase. They’ll screen any potential clients for medical issues, and find out what kind of dream they’re looking for before agreeing to take the job; Andrew will run the business end of things and Neil will run the dreams since he can forge.
They won't start up immediately. It takes a lot of paperwork to set up a company, as it happens, and Neil wants to travel for pleasure rather than work. He'd mentioned Renee to Andrew; her dreamsharing therapy practice might be useful for their own venture and he's curious as to how accurate Andrew's projection of her is. They did invite Kevin to join, but he turned them down. He’s always been more interested in the theoretical, the possibilities of dreamsharing, and he’s appealing to join a new research team funded by the government, his record having been reinstated after Riko’s death.
Reaching for the packet of cigarettes at the back of his jeans, Andrew clicks his old lighter a couple of times. It doesn’t work, of course, but it prompts Neil to toss him the cheap plastic lighter on the coffee table. The sofa dips as Andrew rolls off it to slide open the balcony doors.
The stray cat they sometimes see around the apartment block is there, enormous and fluffy and disdainful of the way Andrew flicks a hand at it to shoo it away. It ignores Andrew and Andrew ignores it back, lighting up his cigarette in the blustery weather. He inhales his first drag.
“I don’t need this self-sacrificial shit from you.”
“It’s not self-sacrificial,” says Neil. “But if you’re not going to be there, it doesn’t matter to me.”
“That’s worse,” says Andrew, deadpan. “Sentimentality.”
Neil huffs in exasperation, and reaches for the coffee table. On the table is Neil’s laptop; open on the screen is the latest message from a corporate lawyer they’ve been consulting. “I’ll tell her to send over the documents.”
There’s a silence as Neil drafts up an email reply.
“I will be there,” says Andrew eventually. “I’ll be up top, watching your stupid back.”
Neil’s back is to Andrew, so he can’t see the grin that splits across Neil’s face, but Neil suspects he can hear it in Neil’s voice anyway. “I know.”
IMAGE: A reception of an office. It is white with highlights of office. The sign above the reception desk says 'JOSTEN & MINYARD'. At the bottom of the image, it says 'OPENING SOON [email protected]'