I have been challenged to write about Inception once a week until the end of the year.  Not that this really changes anything because I was planning on doing that anyway.

This week, we begin my brave venture into the world of fan fiction.  It’s probably safe to say we won’t be getting any more Inception stories from Nolan and the Blu-Ray doesn’t come out till later this year.  So in order to get a fix, I’m pretty much gonna have to make my own so hopefully, you need a fix too.

The first is a story in parts.  It’s called

“The Human Vault.“

The thought of her weighed on him more than anything.  It was like a gauze that insulated him indiscriminately, from everything.  Even now, in the middle of the actual meeting, all Nathan could think about was whether or not he’d done the math right – the figures that said this job would finally bring in enough to get her the treatment.

“The only stipulation is that you won’t be able to bring your own crew.  We’ll be providing you with all your equipment.  That includes your personnel.”  The man pushed his glasses back up and drew his eyes away from the contract and back to Nathan, on the other side of the desk.  He slid the single sheet of paper across the way.  It was then Nathan realized the man’s name had slipped his mind.  Embarrassed, he scanned the contract with a subtle sweep of his eyes and was finally able to respond:

“Mr. Elliott, I’ve performed extraction for and on people of the highest rank and position.  Some you can imagine and some than even you can’t.  And I always get the job done, done well.  I get it done because I work with the same people every time.  The same point man; the same forger; the same architect.  Especially the architect.  With all due respect, we’re a package deal.”  Nathan pushed the contract back to the man.

“And with all due respect, Mr. Thomas, this job and our people – they’re a package deal.  Listen: we trust you,” the man said.  “At least, as much as we can.  But your crew – we don’t know them.  That makes them variables, tipping to one side or the other.  We don’t need variables, Mr. Thomas.  In a way, even you are one yourself.  We need results and we want them with as much certainty as possible.”  The man absently tapped the contract on the table.  ”You are the only necessary risk.”

Nathan leaned in over the desk, planting his hands down.  “So you trust me.  As much as you can.  Then trust my judgment.  They.  Are.  Dependable.  Look: I’m the one going into the field.  Between you and me, I’d say I need the certainty of my crew a little more than you do yours.”

The man closed his eyes and took in a long, deep breath.  “Be that as the case may be, the customer is always right, Mr. Thomas.”  He drew a pen from his jacket pocket; clicked it; and set it on top of the contract before sliding them all together to Nathan.  Nathan watched them drift towards him on the slick black surface of the desk like a ticking bomb.  “Do you trust us, Mr. Thomas?”

He didn’t.  Not really.  But the wronged customer doesn’t buy.  His daughter didn’t have time for that.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Elliott.”  He signed the contract and walked out.

That’s it for this first installment.  Check back the same time next week for part two of “The Human Vault.”