A scientist died, and left plans to a dangerous weapon to me.
This was quite a long dream, with many elements which were not relevant to the central plot at all... I remember wandering around in a city, a dinner party... and I'm rapidly forgetting. I'll try to write as much as I can, but I will focus on the plot and then try to get the other stuff (which is basically dishonest, since the dream world doesn't care quite as much about plot as we do, although it cares more about plot than the real world does).
The desire of the scientist was to keep the weapon plans as safe as possible, but without destroying them. He thought that the world was not ready for his weapon, and would use it for evil, but perhaps one day would be ready. I was to formulate a plan for keeping the weapon out of human hands for an extended period of time.
I cut the weapon plans into pieces (or perhaps the scientist had already done this), and buried these pieces in containers along a muddy dirt road. I then created some codes which were supposed to roughly indicate the locations, but not precisely, and distributed them between 18 people. These people would act as guardians, and eventually hunt for the containers and re-assemble the plans. Things were designed so that it would be OK if some of these people did not persevere.
At one point, I remember despairing that this was a stupid plan and would not work. However, I eventually launched the project, giving the 18 people their codes and a pep talk. The pep talk was given by me filling in (in real time) word balloons on a comic-format explanation which I had made. (I was very happy with how the drawing turned out.) For some reason, I was typing from the dirt road, using an archaic keyboard which was capable of sending characters but whose main function was more specialized; I spent a decent amount of time trying to figure out the unusual button configuration (so, for example, some letters required key combinations). It seemed to me I was talking to the 18 on an irc channel (though I was also talking through the comic I had drawn). I was heartened by the enthusiasm of the 18, and came to believe that the plan would really work.
Soon after this, I was being transferred to a different school. Someone asked me why I would move to that particular area. I responded that I was being sent there by ____, who was my old-wizard character in the dream (dumbledorf/gandalf). I didn't know what I was getting into, but I assumed that there was a good reason. This discussion took place on a hill at the end of the stretch of road where I had buried the pieces of the weapon plan. It seemed as if there was a send-off party.
There as another party, earlier in the dream, in the city setting. I think this was a part of the dream where I was still trying to figure out what the plot would be. I remember wandering around the city looking for something... coffee, or a place to sleep, or a place to hide the plans. I remember coming into a large empty garage-type room, in which someone told me I could find refuge. Separately, I remember a pot-luck style party where I might have been explaining the inheritance of the weapon.