Dream IX

There was a floating house in a swampy lake area, and the area was infused with a kind of air-borne spore, or fungus.

We had to pilot a boat to the floating house, match it for spin, and then dock; this would allow one of the folks in the house (a rather attractive young woman) to use our boat to climb to the roof of the house, where the fungus could be given a kind of radiant spray which would cleanse the air, and make it safe for humans to return to the area.

The effect of the fungus was rather vague, but there were hints that it took you over, somehow.

The docking procedure went well until the last moment, when the young woman was supposed to grasp the house and the boat at the same time in a complicated movement. She failed to execute it properly; as a result, she was unable to get to the roof of the house.

There was a momentary panic as our results were evaluated. We had successfully docked, and were matching the house spin for spin in the water, but no one from the house could get to the roof. Our success was in jeaopardy.

I was able to get to the roof, however. So I climbed on up the boat and onto the roof, where the anti-fungal spray (several silvery torpedo shapes) could be released. One by one I turned the devices on, and released the anti-fungal spray.

The green haze that filled the air floated down to the swamp, where it merged with the water, and continued down toward the lake bed. We all knew the fungus was not destroyed, just temporarily defeated; it would be back some day.

In the meantime, however, word of the success of the operation spread quickly, and families and other groups soon came to the swamp to hold picnics. We took satisfaction in a job well done, and when we were offered the chance to attend one of the picnics, we did so.