Alexander Plansky - Arcadia

“Jenna really wanted to go to a nightclub.”

“That was probably it.”

“So what normally happens?” Lewis asked. “They don’t wake up and you keep messing with them until they snap?”

“Not exactly. With you, I kept re-introducing the image of the astronaut and you really didn’t like that. I mean, most people we bring here all have some phobia of it. It’s probably the most striking image from Rogue Horizon and I always find it drifting somewhere through everyone’s subconscious when we put them in the Dream Machine. But it had a really strong effect on you, probably because you were so obsessed with NASA and space as a kid. Maybe that’s why you kept seeing it in your dreams by the wreck of your mother’s car. You associated that night with astronauts because your brother nearly ripped up your favorite toy, and you think that you trying to get it back caused the accident that killed him. In that case, it makes sense that your brain would associate the subliminal images of the monster we placed near the beginning of the game with that incident.

“Anyway, it’s a different amount of time in the tank for everyone. Some people can take up to ten hours, other’s it’s less than two. Everyone’s brain is different, and that’s shaped by the experiences they have. Those with weak mental fortitude crack the earliest. And that’s not limited to those suffering from some form of mental illness or health concern; some people are just easily influenced and allow their emotions to control them too much. I believe you were so resilient because you mostly overcame the grief caused by your brother’s death. I had to work very hard to resurrect your old guilt, and it probably would have worked eventually had you not been already suspicious of this place when you came here.

“But anyway, once I see that my… patients have been completely broken down – their reality in the simulation has become completely devoid of any logic and it’s just violence, anger, and fear – I determine that the procedure is complete. I call in some assistance, we top up the sedative and you enter a dreamless sleep, then we get you out and back into your normal clothes, take you back to your hotel – we’ve hacked into your records and know exactly where you’re staying – and you go back home feeling fine for a few days. But not really, because the damage to your subconscious has already been done.

“The dreams and hallucinations keep getting worse and worse. You start to lose your grip on reality, and finally, you lash out. You think the enemies from Rogue Horizon , mixed with your past trauma, are everywhere, and that the only way out is with blood. Voices in your head become unbearable and suicide seems like your only relief. Otherwise, you’ll just keep killing and killing. It’s beautiful, really.”

He sat there with his hands in his lap as if they were chatting about sports or movies. It was unbelievable. Here was the man who had been culpable for the deaths and suffering of many innocent people, and he dared to take pride in his work as if it were some twisted science fair project.

The Velcro strap was being difficult, but Lewis finally managed to bend his wrist enough to begin pulling it off with his fingers. The last part was still tricky.

Blackwell sighed. “You know, this is the first time we’ve ever had to use both tanks. There’s another in one in a second room, on the other side of that wall. We’ve always had a back-up and sometimes we use this one, sometimes the other one, just to keep it fresh. But tonight, we had both you and our other special guest.”

Lewis suddenly remembered the kidnapping victim, the one he had seen being taken out of the SUV with a bag over their head.

“I was initially disappointed they gave you to me instead of Katelyn. You’re not as much of a gamer as most people we get here, but I was pleasantly surprised. Your whole sci-fi conspiracy thriller dream was great! I love that kind of stuff, much more interesting than the other narratives I’ve seen people spin in the Dream Machine. Your pal Charlie, he was here last week, and it was just all depressing bullying shit from high school. The astronaut took the voice of one of his 11 thgrade tormentors and chased him into a bathroom. He’d once gotten beaten up in there or something – anyway it was really pedestrian and lame. But you . That nightclub shootout had me at the edge of my seat. I couldn’t stop laughing when Jenna smashed the bottle in my character’s face. It was just like a movie! Actually, the whole nightclub scene really gave me major Deus Ex vibes – classic game, you must’ve played it. There’s that whole nightclub scene in Hong Kong where Majestic-12’s black ops unit begins a shootout on the dance floor and there’s techno music blaring and neon everywhere and, oh man…” He smiled nostalgically, his mind lost in a reminiscent trance.

“And let me guess, you cribbed the gas station in the middle of the desert from the game too?” Lewis said.

Blackwell nodded. “Yeah, I even took the same “G” logo on the sign. It was my little director’s Easter egg. Katelyn, she’s a big Half-Life 2 fan – we both love those early 2000s FPSs, and she always tries to throw in a little thing or two from there when she’s at the controls. Keeps the job interesting. But wow, after that I really have to thank you. You made this night way more fun than I thought it would be. Getting to explain it all to you has been the height of my career here.”

“Well,” Lewis said bitterly, “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

“Oh yeah, no worries,” he said, giving a dismissive wave of the hand without any hint of sarcasm or irony. “Even with you figuring it all out, you still lasted longer than the other patient. Katelyn said she was disappointed in her, given her reputation in the gaming world and all, but I guess her mental state was weaker than we’d anticipated. They’re just getting ready to take her back to Vegas now.”

Lewis tried to sit up. “Who’s the other patient?”

Blackwell gave a big, annoying smile. “Oh, I’m not allowed to say. But I think you can guess.”

“No, no,” Lewis said, shaking his head in the water. “That’s impossible, she was still in bed when I left.”

The technician laughed. “I know, that’s the beautiful irony about this thing! Had you stayed asleep instead of sneaking all the way back here, we would’ve come in and taken Jenna, then returned her by morning and you wouldn’t have known the difference. If you’d woken up, we would’ve just sedated you and left you there. You were never the one we wanted, Lewis. You even figured that out in the dream world.”

His blood pressure shot through the roof and he struggled in his restraints harder. The last of the Velcro on his right wrist wasn’t undone just yet.

Blackwell laughed. “It was pretty funny. The team we sent out there, Jackson, Katelyn, and the others, were all wondering why you weren’t in bed with her but they figured you’d gone off and had a late-night drink or something. Then, right after they got back, we found you snooping around here of all places!” He chuckled again. “But after your incident during the tour, it was clear you had played more Rogue Horizon than your girlfriend had. Not that that mattered, she didn’t need the preliminary brainwashing to give in to the programming. But we figured we’d take it as a two-for-one special. Now you can both snap and kill each other when you get back to L.A.!”

“You need to work on your sales pitch.”

The technician shrugged. “Eh, there’s a reason I’m more of a behind the scenes guy.” He turned back to the computer. “Now, unfortunately, comes the less fun part. Now that you know it’s a simulation, there can be no narrative. When I put you under again, I’m afraid I’m going to have to use everything in the Dream Machine’s power to break you. I will exploit every fear, every insecurity, and every traumatic memory until you become officially unstable enough to take you back to Vegas. You and your girlfriend will feel strange for a couple of days, but you’re back in L.A. on Sunday and when and where you snap is irrelevant to the things we’ll learn from how you each do it.”