Philip K. Dick

Post-apocalyptic world. People living underground for years, escaping the radiation on the surface. Underworld. That's where I lived. Underworld. Amethyst and Stormy were with me the day I decided to go to the surface. Radiation everywhere, they said, death in every breath and breeze. Why the hell not? It's not like we were really living down here. We step out into bright sunshine, into immediate confusion. Sunshine? What about the nuclear clouds that covered the entire planet? ---- it, maybe I'll get a tan and leave a crispy corpse. We start walking, the three of us. No one's been up here for what seems like ever, so the direction doesn't matter. We're only walking for a short time before we hit what appears to be a...flea market? That's what it looks like from what I remember of earth before we went below. And to our shock, there are people everywhere in this maze of shops and stalls and homes and we didn't even know WHAT else. People, all types and colours and sizes, a truly indiscriminate society. Except they're looking at us, looking at us as I'm sure we're looking at them, with amazement, curiousity and suspicion. Even a little fear. A little fear...something's chasing us! Something big and dark and unknown; some nameless, faceless terror. Our spines tingle, expecting at any moment to be ripped to shreds. We don't look back. I scoop Amethyst up because even carrying her I can run faster than she can by herself. We run until we reach the ruined remains of what must have once been an apartment building. The anonymous monster retreats, or maybe just loses interest. Stormy and Amethyst start looking around together, trying to find food or life or SOMEthing that can justify our surface expedition, our dangerous, fatal journey. Only now we know the radiation is not the killer. Now we want to know about the top dwellers. And so we look around. They go up further while I explore the lower levels. I come to a balcony, a wooden balcony with a pool. Water? Years of faith erode as I realize, finally, despite the previous revelations, that we've been lied to. For years... This is water. A tentative touch, and it's cool, liquid, wet, just like the water I remember. A lion comes at me from the side; I back to the rail. Fright does not paralyze me as I wonder what I can do against this beast. A rush and a struggle, we're almost wrestling when I throw him into the water. He dives below, playing it seems. A leopard joins him, and I think it must have come from the depths of the pool. The leopard leans into the corner, forelegs stretched to support him, just as a human would. And they are human. Human and male, dripping wet, wearing jeans with bare chests. We talk, I don't know what about. Stormy and Amethyst return, and we all walk out of the building together. The animal-men are going to show us around. A hand down the front of my pants, sealing my back to the lion-man's chest. He's touching me, caressing me, and it feels so good, so relieving, that I go down to my knees. He's pushing into me from behind, still caressing me, and I'm about to explode. I notice his legs are lion's legs as he continues to move against me. "Don't worry about it," he says, "it happens." I stand up and my pants are intact except for the front zipper which I fix. And he's wearing jeans, bare chested. How...? But the question gets lost as Stormy and Amethyst come to ask me for money. The question and the animal-men, without the slightest of pauses. Amethyst grabs her cash, (real American dollars, pre-war) and runs off after food or toys or whatever else six-year-olds find necessary. Stormy is given four dollars and told to buy me some cigarettes. It's been so long since I've smoked, and the craving suddenly overwhelms me. She wanders off and I amble slowly after her. For some reason I don't worry about Amethyst, somehow I know she'll be okay. I catch up with Stormy as she's shouting to the vendors in this gutted warehouse, asking for my cigarettes. One woman has just over half a pack, asking too much for just four. I ask to try before I buy and the woman reluctantly consents. I get the impression that cigarettes are not much in demand here. The smoke is good, going easily down into my lungs and refreshingly exhaled out. We buy all she has with our money and receive these thousands of their money in return. It's larger than ours, and the thousands are obviously barely worth what used to be a dime. But we browse around, looking for food, for anything interesting we might take back to underworld. Underworld...we still think of it as home. In a blur we meet some friendly, obviously affluent friends and are in their house. An actual house, unusual, rare even, for this world. We're invited to sleep and it's divine, soft mattresses and fluffy pillows and warm comforters. I remember this, and sleep in luxury and contentment. Upon awakening, I find a door, a sliding glass door that looks out on a yard with a waterfall in it. The water closest to the edge is muddy, murky, like the water of the pool on the apartment's balcony. But further up, near the mermaid/siren statue, it is clear and pure, sparkling and inviting. With the housemates and what seems like a community of others watching, I brave the mud, the murk, and swim out to the bottom of the waterfall, atop which is the statue. Here the water is clean and I drink, getting somewhat drunk on the sensation of purity and freshness that assaults my senses as I partake of this miracle I was told I'd never see again. So I climb. I climb the rocks, slick with the falling water, and reach the mermaid/siren statue. And find out she's alive. She speaks to me, telling me of resentment and aggravation, fear and prejudice. I'm to leave, she says. To go back to my home. I feel it, too. I jump to the grass of the yard, preparing to thank my hosts and take my leave. What about your little one?, they say. How do they know about Amethyst? She's fine, I say. She's not scared, she's not hurt. Even if someone took her by surprise (negating the fear), her pain sensors would have gone off. Pain sensors? I have a link with my daughter, I say, I know when anything's wrong. Now I just need to find her. Where do children go? McDonald's, of course. There are two here, on opposite sides of the city, and an arcade. I haven't seen a single child, I think, since I came to the surface. It's time to find mine.
And then I woke up.

I remember the details of my dream last night. The feel of the lion's legs, hairy and course against mine. The taste of the water, the tingling in my spine as I was chased. The sensation of mud between my toes when I first entered the pond. Even the hurt in my eyes when I stepped out into the sunshine. The rocks and dirt and desert like area we walked through before coming to the flea market thing. The smell of some of the 'homes' there. The relief from the nicotine, the comfort of the bed. Very real, and very strange.
I almost didn't wake up this morning.
Laters