Falling Awake

now that Amelia could no longer see the parking lot beyond the chain-link fence. The heavy, gray mist was eating up the daylight before the sun had even set. She hadn’t counted on the weather being such a major issue tonight. But it wasn’t like she’d had a lot of choice, she thought angrily. When she’d seen Ellis in the hallway outside Belvedere’s office she knew she had to move and move quickly.
    How had he put it together? she wondered for the hundredth time. She really would like to know if she made a mistake. She made it a point to learn from her mistakes. That was just good scientific procedure, and she was nothing if not an excellent scientist. Brilliant, actually. Her parents, both researchers in the field of genetics, had set out to create a perfect child. They had recognized her talents in her early childhood and made every effort to hone and shape them.
    She had been sent to the most advanced schools and supplied with special tutors. Success and perfection were demanded at every turn and she tried her best to meet that demand, no matter what it cost her to do so. She sacrificed everything—toys, friends, romance—to achieve the goals her parents had ordainedfor her. After all, they had made it clear from the beginning that they could only love a perfect, successful child.
    Eventually, of course, she had been forced to kill her mother and her father. There had been no choice, really. It turned out that no one could achieve absolute perfection every time. Inevitably, there were setbacks along the way. The day she graduated from college she decided she could no longer tolerate the cold disdain and disgust with which her mother and father met her occasional failures. So she got rid of them.
    But even though they were long gone, she could still hear their cruel rebukes when things went wrong.
    “Yolland?” She stopped near the gate.
    “I’m ready for the bastards.” His voice came from inside one of the ticket booths that faced the entrance. “They think they can destroy the environment and get away with it. But they’re going to learn a lesson tonight, I promise you that much.”
    She stifled a groan of disgust. Her roster of ex-con subjects from the program at Brackleton was going to be short by one more name before this night was finished, and good riddance. Working with these guys was always problematic but they did have their uses. She reminded herself that it had been extremely fortunate that two of them, Albert Gibbs and Yolland, happened to live in the Los Angeles area and had been available to her on such short notice.
    “You’re a real hero, Yolland,” she said. “Not many people would have the courage to do what you’re doing. Are the fuses ready?”

    “All set.”
    “Remember, wait for my signal.”
    “Got it.”
    s o why can’t I get past that red tsunami?” Scargill asked, anguished.
    “I don’t think you’re going to like hearing my analysis, but here it is,” Isabel said gently. “I believe what I’m about to tell you is accurate because I’ve had some experience interpreting the dreams of a few of Lawson’s people who tried CZ-149. That red tsunami that’s blocking your gateway dream?”
    “Yeah?”
    “It’s your dreaming mind letting you know that you can’t access your gateway dream because of the poison flowing through your bloodstream. That’s why the water is red, you see. It’s the color of blood.”
    He stared at her, shaking more violently. “What poison? What are you saying?”
    “The CZ-149. It doesn’t enhance Level Five dreaming, it interferes with it. I’ll bet that Amelia is giving you a fairly stiff dose on a regular basis to keep you from accessing your gateway dream.”
    “That makes no sense. Why would she do that?”
    “So she can manipulate you more easily. From what I’ve heard, the drug has a hypnotic effect on Level Fives. It makes them highly vulnerable to suggestion and influence. If Amelia allows you to dream normally again—heck, if she even allows you to think clearlyagain—you would figure out that something is very wrong and start asking awkward questions. She can’t afford to let that happen.”
    “That’s not true. It can’t be true. Why would she rescue me and then try to keep me from dreaming?”
    “If I’m right, and I’m pretty sure I am, she’s got two goals,” Isabel said. “The first is to get control of her very own lab. She’s accomplished that, more or less. The second is to destroy Lawson