[ WP ] DREAM FILE CORRUPTED

*The waves lap against my bare feet as I walk along the shore. He's there, holding my hand, his pants rolled up to his shins, his shoes tied together by their laces and hanging over his shoulder. He looks down at me as we stroll along the shore, smiling. * 
 
 * “ You do n't want to go back, do you? ” he says. * 
 
 *I smile up at him. “ Can we stay another day or two? I feel so relaxed here... ” * 
 
 *He stops walking and takes my other hand, pulling me toward him. “ Absolutely, ” he says, leaning down for a kiss*... 
 
 A flash of red light startled me awake. I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes, but the flashing did n't go away. I turned to the wall to get a blank surface in my field of vision, so I could read my internals. 
 
 **WARNING: DREAM FILE CORRUPTED. SEQUENCE ABORTED. ** 
 
 I sighed and tapped the implant in my temple with one finger. The error message and its red light disappeared. 
 
 I heard rustling as Erica shifted in the bunk above me. “ Luann? Something wrong? ” 
 
 “ Did n't wake you, did I? ” I asked. 
 
 “ Nah, I'm still up reading. I've got an exam tomorrow morning and I am *not* ready for it. ” 
 
 “ Well, my dream crashed. Just about to get to the good part, too. ” 
 
 “ Oh? ” 
 
 Lucky for me, she was in the top bunk and could n't see me blush. “ Never mind that. I'm pissed it crashed and woke me up, but I guess I'm glad too. You hear awful stories about what happens when someone gets a bad program and it wo n't abort. ” 
 
 “ Like that guy over in the Neuroprogramming department a few days ago, what was his name. James, maybe? Or Jason? ” 
 
 I sat up straight in bed, cursing when I hit my head on the bottom of Erica's bunk. “ What? Jason? ” 
 
 “ Yeah, I think so. What, do you know him? ” 
 
 I rubbed the top of my head gingerly. “ He was my lab partner last year in Structural Aesthetics. Sweet guy, and *way* smarter than I am. I might not have passed without his help. ” 
 
 “ Oh, hell, Luann, I'm sorry. Listen, maybe I got the name wrong, maybe it's somebody else. Or some other Jason, it's a pretty common name. ” 
 
 “ I hope so, ” I said, keeping my doubts to myself. Erica was n't wrong, exactly, but I could feel the dread building in my stomach, swamping me with a wave of nausea. I remembered Jason saying he'd planned on declaring Neuroprogramming his major. I knew it was him. 
 
 I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I pictured the last moments of my aborted dream sequence. It had probably failed because I'd altered the program, one of a cheap dream pack I'd picked up for a few credits, just to play with. Most of my money went for tuition, so I could n't afford the good stuff, and I'd spent a few hours tweaking the code to make the generic man in the dream into someone I knew. 
 
 Into Jason, actually. I had n't been brave enough by the end of last year to tell him how I felt, and I barely saw him anymore—we did n't have any classes together this semester. 
 
 Suddenly, the thought of him with mush for brains after a programming accident was just too much. I got out of bed and started pulling on some clothes. 
 
 Erica leaned over the edge of her bunk, her head a dark spot haloed by the light from her reading lamp. “ What are you doing? ” 
 
 “ I do n't feel so good, ” I answered, fighting a wave of dizziness as I struggled into my jeans. “ I think I should go down to the clinic and get checked out. ” 
 
 “ Luann. ” 
 
 I turned to her, but I could n't read her expression, back-lit as she was. “ It's not him, ” she said. “ Even if it is, running across campus in the middle of the night to find out wo n't change that. ” 
 
 “ I have to go, Erica. I really liked him. ” I paused. “ And I think my dream crashed because I tweaked it. I really should get checked out, or I might start speaking in tongues tomorrow, or something random like that. ” 
 
 She sighed, then nodded. “ Okay, then. ” 
 
 Outside, the cold night air hit me like a brick, and I fought another spell of dizziness. Had I really scrambled something in my brain? The professors always warned us not to play with our own programs, but at one point or another nearly everyone I know had tried it. Once you knew how, it was almost an impossible temptation to resist, like standing near a bonfire and *not* holding out your hands to it. 
 
 I shook my head to clear it and set out for the clinic. At first I was walking, but after a few moments I was jogging, and before I was halfway there I was practically sprinting. 
 
 I imagined finding Jason there, lying catatonic in some curtained alcove, hidden away from the everyday bustle of the students getting their routine checkups. I was afraid of that almost as much as I dreaded being plugged into the diagnostics myself and finding out I'd erased a chunk of my memory banks, or changed my default download language to Portuguese, or something worse. 
 
 I did n't *feel* different. Not yet, anyway. But my heart was shivering like a struck cymbal, and my lungs ached like fire as I ran. 
 
 -152
