I need a cigarette and am desperately about to piss, but I just had the most intricate, detailed dream I believe I may have EVER had and I wanted to get it down before it left my diseased brain. The dream had an overaching plot, intricate subplots, a varied cast of characters, intriguing subtext, and a compelling theme. I can’t even remember most of it. Most of the people within it had EXTREMELY detailed faces of those I had NEVER met. They are fading at the moment but I can still picture in my mind a few of them. I better describe it before it goes.
In the dream, I was an ecological terrorist. I was about 25 years old. I was rail thin with a slight build and an angular face, but the face was similar to my own. My teeth were also all rotten — as they are today — and I was filled with bitterness and hate. In moments of stress or contemplation, I would suck on those rotten nubs of teeth, caving in my cheeks, in an extremely off-putting way. I always wore a loose-fitting, plain navy blue ballcap similar to one I once owned.
The year was about 2050, and not only was I a terrorist, I was a leader of a small cell of them. Some of the members of my team were subsidized by foreign adversaries — according to the common practices of the time — they were genetically and cybernetically enhanced. We were planning a big raid on a politician to assassinate him. We had it all lined out -— intelligence, reconnaissance, operations, security, obfuscation, escape. It was a big world with large skyscrapers and advanced technology. We were driving in a beat up white van labeled LAUNDRY to the destination of our attack.
Then for some reason, we ourselves were under attack. A military helicopter — similar to a Black Hawk I think — crested the horizon and begin flying toward us. I knew instantly that there was someone on the inside of our group who had ratted us out and described our attack to the authorities. Within moments, the attack chopper blasted us off the road with a missile. My suspicion about the “rat” bore out because they didn’t want to kill us — the missile didn’t hit us even though aimed by the most advanced computers mankind can offer — it only struck near and threw our van into a ditch. They wanted to CAPTURE us and find out what else we knew.
This part becomes a bit fuzzy because its difficult to dream the details of combat — but there was gunplay, melee combat, explosions, car chases, as a military detachment emerged from the brush on either side of the road and tried to take as down. Apologies for the lack of detail.
Somehow I escaped with two of my most loyal associates: a beautiful ebony woman named Simone, and an almost fully cybernetic brute known as Ortho. We wanted to complete our attack anyway. We knew that the politician we had targeted not only knew of our plot, but was so arrogant about disrupting it that he hadn’t even changed the time or location of his speech.
We made our way to a hillside overlooking an open air auditorium. The politician was winding up for his speech with his staff members. The “camera” of the movie centered we three terrorists in the “frame” with Simone and Ortho standing boldly and beautifully in the forefront, and I sucking on my teeth at a small distance. Then it zoomed slowly into my face as you could hear the sucking of my jaw and the snapping of my teeth, as ominous music played.
“I am supposed to stop security,” Ortho said. “And Simone is going to disrupt surveillance. Who is going to take point?” And he looked at me. “I will.” I said. “This is MY attack.” So the other two moved off to perform their functions and I made my way down to the rear of the auditorium, to crawl through a small hatch we had constructed near the stage and emerge beside the politician so he could be executed dramatically on national television.
As I stooped to enter the hatch… something happened in me. My heart broke. “My god,” I said. “I can’t go through with this.” And I began to weep. Suddenly a stray bullet penetrated just beneath my right shoulder blade and I collapsed to the ground, oblivious to what was going on for a time.
A gun battle erupted. Ortho was killed. Simone made her way through the maelstrom of terrified audience members and dragged me away from the scene. We jacked a car from the parking lot and began to drive away. I could FEEL my life disappearing.
Simone smiled at me gently and said, “You won’t feel anything, vex. There will be no pain. And then none of this will matter anymore.” I grunted in anguish and said, “I know. It will be like going to sleep. I’ve known that since I was a child.”
“There’s one more thing you can do though — before you go.” And she drove carefully to the nearest electoral polling location, and injected me with a substance that would keep me alive for just a few more moments. I knew what she wanted me to do. She wanted me to vote for the politician’s opponent. So I did so… weakly pulling a lever to try to run the scumbag out of office, and then died.
Credits rolled. And then the dream continues… but I will tell you more of that later.