Here is last night’s dream.

The dream opens in a large, several storey, mansion like house. The house is in London and it is full of people milling around. There is a sense of there being former colleagues there, though I cannot identify any individuals. There is a mild chaos and a mild sense of consternation heading towards panic. There is much ado.

Somewhere in the building a fire has started. There is a growing warmth, heat and smoke. People are even more directionless and flapping about. I notice a pair of double fire doors with Fire Exit written upon them on a green panel. I press the bar to open the doors and start to shout and usher people outside to safety. For some reason they have lost the plot and it is my calm that helps them make good the exit.

I can see that the fire is not yet very serious but is in the process of worsening. I am cool calm and collected. I go back inside the building. I can see two fair sized terracotta amphorae. I put one hand in the neck of each of these and lift them up from within. I calmly carry the amphorae out of the building to the fire assembly point. I set them down on the ground and pull out my hands which have been immersed in the amphorae. A rich light golden honey flows off my arms and hands and back into the necks of the amphorae. For a long time, honey flows off my forearms and hands into the amphorae. I know that there is nectar in the honey and that both my hands are fully immersed and coated with that nectar-honey. I enjoy the sensation of flowing honey.

The scene changes and I am walking out of an urban car park at night. I am being tailed by some young men in jeans and with hoodies. They are following me for quite some distance. There are a few of them but two main protagonists. I am unconcerned. I stop and turn. I ask them why they are following me. They say that they have noted that I have something in the back right hand pocket of my jeans. They asks what it is. I say that it is a “special” USB flash drive with a plan, a business plan for Alexandros who is the nagal’s courier, my nagal’s courier. They say that they want me to give it to them. I say that it is encrypted and that only Alexandros and I can read it. They say that they still want it. I explain that it will be for them a Pandora’s box and any attempt at reading it will unleash things they do not want unleashed. They insist. I hand them the USB drive which is in a small black velvet bag with a drawstring closure.

The scene changes and I am in some big faculty like meeting where {big} cheeses are sat around tables in a boardroom style layout. There are more than a dozen people there all smartly dressed. They are aged fifties and early sixties. The meeting is being chaired and convocated by Tim Jones. He has been given this job as being less partial and personally implicated than others. They are to discuss with me what my business plans are, what it is that I want. There is a sense of UK university with some politico-input. I say to Tim that it is more than a little rich that they are finally asking me what I want. How come it is now. He does not know what to make of the situation and is resentful that he has been drawn into it. With no success I try to explain to him and those present that I want nothing, I have no demands. The ball is not in my court – so to speak. I remind Tim that I was pivotal in examining many of his Ph.D. students and was used by him then discarded. Those gathered around the table do not know what to make of it as they are expecting some kind of plan from me, where there is none.

The dream ends.