Dream | July 6, 2010
It's World War II and I'm in Tokyo. Instead of atomic bombs dropping on Hiroshima and Nagasaki the Americans are invading the country, starting with Tokyo.
I'm Japanese in this dream and attached to a small group of five military officers and advisors. In order to protect certain military secrets and to provide a surprise for the invaders we're tasked with the destruction of two skyscrapers in the downtown area. In the distance the heavy thud of bombs being dropped from enemy aircraft shakes the ground. Nearby, the sounds of cars screeching and people shouting.
Two of our group are a scientist and his assistant. They rush into one of the adjacent skyscrapers and begin work on an experimental nuclear bomb in a lab near the front entrance. On a metal table are instruments and chemicals. A two-foot-high rectangular column of whitish powder sits on a low pedestal so that the top of the block is just above the surface of the table. This chemical has a fluorescent yellow-green tinge and looks very dangerous. They are setting a drip from a bulbous glass jar to slowly dissolve the powder block.
Through the large front glass windows and doors I can see the uniformed military officers working on a more conventional explosive device near the front of the other building. Their bomb has wires and tubes and they're smoking cigars as they assemble it. A heavy crash shakes the ground. We all know the invading troops are coming closer.
What they don't know is that I've been assigned to detonate another device in case the others fail. While the scientists are working I slip out the front door into the courtyard and locate a large grey plastic bin. On the top is a platter of various stuff I have to put together like tinkertoys. Amidst the mess is some fish I think is my meal while I work. It looks like raw chicken though.
As I'm dragging my bin off to one side and under a low porch, I notice that the two buildings are very descriptive of their purpose. The building the scientists are working in is a high-tech pinnacle of glass and steel, while the military officers work to blow up a more traditional concrete skyscraper that resembles the Empire State Building.
While I'm putting together my bomb I eat the fish. When it's gone some oysters appear in its place. My dad is suddenly in the group of military officers. It occurs to me that he would probably like these oysters more than I.
My bomb is complete. I stash the remote control in my coat pocket and slip out to see how the scientists are doing. I arrive just as they are turning on the drip valve, starting the sequence. Then they rush out of the building as the officers have also started their bomb sequence.
As a group we all start sprinting across the courtyard and through the city. At some point we break into three groups of two. My partner is an effeminate man who is more of a bureaucrat rather than military or scientist. I'm shouting at him to run faster as we dodge burning cars and debris. A few civilians scurry about in the chaos.
At one point I look back and see my partner putting on fingernail polish with an applicator. I yell at him and grab his wrist and he stumbles forward like an idiot.
Since this is a dream, from my omniscient point of view I know that the other two groups encountered hostile invading forces and had to turn around. They all meet back in the courtyard as the bombs go off.
First the conventional device explodes like a thunderclap and destroys the first few floors of the building, raining rubble onto the group as they shield their faces with their arms. The building is gutted but stands.
Within a few seconds the nuclear bomb erupts shattered glass. The group is thrown back onto their butts. The building is still structurally intact.
Knowing this, I feel in my coat pocket while I'm running and click the button on the remote control.
The roar of the explosion is heard for miles. The two buildings and the surrounding city blocks vaporize. The blast hurls chunks of rubble into the city. The entire downtown is levelled. Under my feet the massive convulsions knock us to the ground. Clouds of gritty smoke blanket the area in a dirty fog.
I wonder then, what was in that grey bin they made me detonate...