
I had the most vivid dream I've had for ages last night. It started out on an alien planet that was all tropical jungles and giant insects and sweltering heat, and I was exploring it with a team of (possibly?) superhero allies. I'm not sure why I think they were superheroes, but that's definitely the impression I retained on waking up. And we were all "this place is deadly and dangerous! We should explore cautiously!", which for some reason meant we had to build wooden bridges through the tree tops, because being on the floor was tantamount to doom. I've no idea who thought building wooden bridges and slinging them between tall tropical trees was a practical way of exploring an alien planet, but my inclination is to blame Reed Richards, whether he was involved or not.
And then it changed, and the wooden bridges were massive conveyor belts, like you get at airports, and the superheroes were replaced by hundreds of regular people, and it turned out we were colonising this planet, because Earth was destroyed in a nebulous apocalypse. So now I'm just queuing to get into the housing centre where I'll find out where I'll be living. We're divided into groups of ten and sent into these like ... lecture rooms? to learn where we'll be housed and what our jobs will be. I'm sat between this old man who insists he's my great-uncle Edward (I don't have any great-uncles in real life, so he was clearly a fat liar), and a girl called Cassie who apparently is my best friend.
She says she hopes we're living together and don't have to do any farming. I agreed, but was dubious, since I was pretty sure we'd have to do a lot of farming to make this tropical jungle and its deadly insects safe for human habitation.
Anyway, this woman is giving us a lecture on our new life, starting with how we're all entitled to so many blocks of land. I didn't understand that, but I kept my mouth shut, since I was sure Cassie would explain it to me later. I think I got four blocks of land? And a housing unit, which there was a diagram of, and it was basically a flat-pack house, but made of corrugated iron. And then she told us we were entitled to one pleasure-bot (except she might have called them eroti-bots, but the meaning was clear) each, but we'd probably want to keep it out of sight.
And then I woke up. So I never got my pleasure-bot or found out if I'd be a farmer.