Falling Awake(60)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

Inside the folder she found five legal-sized pages filled with Martin Belvedere’s cramped, spidery handwriting. She flipped through them.

The phrase “head trauma” leaped off one of the pages.

“Ellis?”

“Yeah?” He did not look up from the screen.

“Didn’t you tell me that when Vincent Scargill was admitted to that hospital emergency room shortly after the explosion he had severe head trauma?”

That got his attention. He swiveled around on the chair. “Yes. Why?”

She held up the paper she had just started to read. “I think these are rough notes for a case of impaired dreaming in a Level Five lucid dreamer who experienced severe head trauma.”

Ellis was off the chair and moving toward her before she finished speaking. “Any dates on those notes?”

She glanced through the five pages. “No. Maybe that’s why they were at the bottom of the pile.”

“You can probably translate Belvedere’s hieroglyphs a lot faster than I can. Read me some of it.”

“. . . Subject reports that prior to his injury, he regularly experienced extremely lucid dreams. Following the trauma subject describes his dreams as fragmented, uncontrollable and very disturbing. Subject’s use of the word ‘uncontrollable’ suggests that he was accustomed to exerting a considerable degree of control over his dreamscapes before the accident. . . .”

She scanned the next couple of sentences and paused.

“. . . Subject requested a private consultation. He brought a series of five recent dream reports for review and analysis. . . .”

“All right, we know the subject was male,” Ellis said, his voice low with anticipation. “If it’s Scargill, it sounds like the injury he sustained in the explosion affected his extreme dreaming capability. He must have been desperate for help to contact Belvedere.”

“Where else could he go? Besides, he had a personal connection with Belvedere, remember? Dr. B. was the one who first identified him and assessed his dream talent.”

Ellis absently rubbed his injured shoulder and continued to prowl the room. “I take it Belvedere never called you in to consult on a head trauma case?”

“No. I would certainly have remembered something as unusual as that.”

Ellis nodded. “Belvedere may have realized that Scargill was dangerous and wanted to keep you out of it.”

“If he thought Scargill was a menace, why didn’t he contact Lawson?”

“Martin Belvedere was a noted eccentric and damned secretive in his own right, remember? In addition, from what you’ve told me, all he cared about was his research. Scargill probably 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 moved a 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 due to 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.”