I knocked over a bucket of some sort of poison that was to be used against someone. This poison or whatever it was had been made by a group which had formed in these times when civilization was mostly destroyed. The group was to preserve knowledge, apparently not only scientific knowledge, but magical knowledge. And to preserve itself in a position of power. Meetings were occasionally held in village stores, etc. to exchange information, report on how various magical formulas had worked, and occasionally two or more members would meet to work a spell. At the end it seemed as if I were now part of the group, and was going to assist in working a spell. It wasn't that I was against the group per se at the beginning, but that I didn't approve of the particular action represented by the poison bucket. Day residue: a science fiction story read before bedtime for a primitive setting, science, and psi.