Falling Awake

looked like a really interesting case study.”
    “Can’t argue that point.”
    She went back to the notes, reading aloud.
    “. . . The series of dream reports suggests a consistent fear of being pursued and an inability to escape the pursuer. This is, of course, a common theme in many dreams, but there are some highly distinctive elements in this group. The image of the enormous red tsunami is particularly striking. . . .”
    She halted in mid-sentence. “Wait, I remember the tsunami dream. Dr. B. showed me a portion of the narrative and asked if I had any theories about what it might mean.”
    Ellis stopped, facing her. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his pants. “Well?”
    “I asked for more context, naturally,” she said very dryly. “Belvedere gave me almost nothing to work with although he allowed that the subject was an extreme dreamer who was having problems accessing the Level Five state. I assumed it was a narrative from someone in Client Number One’s group.”
    “One of Lawson’s people.”
    “Yes. I remember asking if it was possible it was a blocking image rather than a chase-and-pursuit dream. I suggested that the tsunami was an image the dreamer’s sleeping mind had created to prevent him from getting into the Level Five state.” She moveda hand. “But without more context, that was as far as I could go with the analysis.”
    “I’m betting that this guy with the head trauma is Scargill and that he’s the third anonymous client,” Ellis said. “It fits.”
    The computer beeped.
    Ellis took two long strides to the counter and checked the screen. Satisfaction emanated from him in waves of fierce energy.
    “Honey, you and I are on a roll tonight,” he whispered.
    She eased Sphinx’s big head off her lap and jumped to her feet. “What did you find?”
    “Each of the six men involved in the crimes Scargill orchestrated not only did time at Brackleton Correctional Facility, it says here that each one agreed to participate in an experimental project conducted at the facility in exchange for a promise of early release.”
    Isabel leaned closer to read the words on the glowing screen. “The project used a combination of behavior modification techniques and medication to teach the inmates ways of coping with the stress of the outside world after their release.”
    Ellis gripped the counter with one hand, his face hard and intent. “But there’s nothing yet that connects Scargill with Brackleton or this prison therapy project.”
    Isabel hugged herself. “Looks like the next step is to find out more about that special prison behavior modification project.”
    Fifteen minutes later Ellis gave up in disgust.
    “Blank wall,” he said. “The project was officially terminated dueto lack of funding a year and a half ago. The rest of the records have vanished.”
    “They say nothing ever vanishes entirely once it’s put on the Internet,” Isabel stated.
    “Maybe not, but it can sure disappear as far as I’m concerned. I know my limitations. I’m a damn good dreamer and a pretty fair venture capitalist, but I’m not a magician when it comes to the Internet. We need one of Beth’s wizards, and that means I need Lawson to authorize the expense.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s three in the morning back in North Carolina. I’ll call him in a few hours and fill him in on what’s going on here.”
    “Are you sure he’ll help?” She frowned. “I thought you said he was solidly against your investigation.”
    “He is, but he owes me a few favors,” Ellis said evenly. “I’m going to call in a couple.”
    “Does this mean we get some sleep now?”
    “It means you get some sleep.” He wrapped one hand around her nape and kissed her. “I’m going to do some serious dreaming.”

29
    h e went into the guest bedroom, closed the door and turned off the lights. It was always easiest to slide into his gateway dream in the dark. He had a hunch that was because he had developed the skill during the endless, lonely, very scary nights following the loss of his parents. In those days his rapidly developing lucid dreaming talent had offered a sanctuary. He had used it to create dreamscapes where he could forget his fears and loneliness for a while.
    He sat down on the edge of the bed, took off his shoes and lay back against the pillows. For a few minutes he focused on all the various bits and pieces of information he had accumulated, trying to let go of all previous