ADAW 3/52 - Shatter
Chapter 2b of my silly story. Chapter 1 is here. Chapter 2a has yet to be written...
Alan was rolling his sleeves down, as if he’d caught a chill.
John stared, trying to see his tattoo better, but it was already too late. “Do you have nightmares, John?”
John played with his nearly-empty tumbler. “Some.”
“What are they about?”
“My nightmares?”
“Yes. What are they about?”
“The usual stuff, I guess. Flashbacks to particularly nasty firefights. The desert. My grandmother in the hospital, occasionally. Nothing pleasant, but nothing really strange.”
“And what if I could offer you something that would make your nightmares go away?”
“It would depend on the strings attached.” John sat back against his chair, and Alan leaned forward in a parallel motion.
“You’ll have sleep that is almost totally dreamless. And you’ll have a very lucrative job that involves only a small amount of illegal activity, though a lot of shooting.”
“I don’t see how those things are compatible.”
“Well, you’ll be shooting non-people, in the non-real world. And you won’t have natural dreams because you’ll spend your working day dreaming.” John had not previously thought that Alan was crazy, and was disappointed to realize he’d have to change his assessment. But Alan spoke again. “How did we get here?”
“We were… weren’t we working? No, it’s too early for that. What time is it, even? We must have… I don’t know.”
“Do you ever remember the beginning of a dream?”
“Not really.”
“You’re dreaming right now.”
John looked around. The smattering of patrons still in the bar all seemed to be staring at him. Conversation had ceased. Abruptly, the glass he’d been toying with shattered in his hand. He released it, scattering pieces on the table. “What the--” he said. And was the floor underneath him beginning to rumble? Why was Alan so calm? He was staring at John, quietly running the backs of his fingers against the table. “What’s going on?!” The shattering sound of glass made him turn just in time to watch the large mirror behind the bar collapse upon them.
***
John opened his eyes and was on a red brocade chaise in the upstairs lounge at the bar. He was panting and sweaty as he jerked himself upright, realizing that his left arm was pierced with an IV. He yanked it out.
“Whoa, whoa!” said Ethan, standing in front of him. “Relax, it’s okay. Don’t sit up too fast.”
Alan was on another chaise, removing his own IV. John felt as though his clothes were too tight, and he pushed his watch around on his wrist. He could feel Alan staring at the place where the IV had been.
“What the fuck was that? I remember you telling me you’d try me on a drug for my dreams, I didn’t realize you’d be fucking visiting my brain!”
Alan swung his legs over the side of his chaise. “This is what would stop your nightmares: working in the dream world. When you spend so much time taking Somnacin and dreaming for work, your brain just stops giving you dreams at night. And you’ll make a lot of money. Money in your sleep.”
“This is what the VIP patrons come for? Dreams?”
“Shared dreams,” said Ethan, “though the legit dreaming business is not the entirety of our portfolio.” He sat next to Alan, and they both fixed John with an eager stare.
“We’re also involved in some… you might call it dream espionage,” Alan said.
“I’m not giving people nightmares to get rid of my own, that’s fucked.”
“No,” Alan explained, “in some dreams, it’s more about what we learn than what happens to the sleeper.”
“We sort-of chat with their minds to get information. Really really inside insider trading,” Ethan said.
“I don’t see what you need me for,” John said.
“You have skills--” Alan began, but Ethan cut him off.
“Minds have defenses, but real-world skills carry over to the dream world, and you’re excellent at fighting and at being sweet. We want you as a point man, heading the invasion force, as it were, without looking suspicious. Alan’s cousin Evie used to do it, but--”
“Evie is off at college,” Alan said smoothly, “and we can’t take up as much of her time as we used to do.”
“So you want me to be, like, a mental bank robber?”
Ethan grinned. “It is so awesome, man.”
“Listen,” Alan said. “See what it’s like. I’ll give you an overview of how everything works. If you’re not interested after another round or two, you can forget we ever had this conversation, and I’d still be thrilled if you stayed on as bouncer.”
John rolled his shoulders. He could feel the muscles at the bottom of his neck tensing. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. It was more like his body forcing his acknowledgement, as if it knew better than he did what needed to be done. “Alright. Let’s go again.”
“Ethan, give us five minutes.” He turned to John. “Five minutes in the real world is an hour in the dream. Let’s just look around a bit.”
“Okay.” John leaned back again, and watched Ethan slide the IV into Alan, and then into his own left arm.
“Ready?”
“Ready.” His last sight was Alan, eyes already closed, dark eyelashes stark against his cheek.