--------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in FEVERED FALL _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Fourteen ÒFeel for the bubbles,Ó her mind told her. It was odd, she thought, how book-learning intruded into her brain at a time like this. She was in womb-like blackness, black night above, black water below. She was down in the depths, and the depths would claim her forever unless she swam very quickly. But which way?! ÒFeel for the bubbles,Ó her mind told her again. Her lungs simply begged, ÒBREATHE!Ó ÒFool lungs, we are under water,Ó her mind replied. Then, her mind told her again, ÒFeel for the bubbles.Ó As sheÕd been taught in survival training, she put her hand to her mouth. She exhaled precious air from her lungs, into the water. Then it was that she realized she was wearing leather flight gloves on her hands, and the bubbles, released from her lungs through her mouth and nostrils, escaped into the black void of the watery depths without her being able to feel which direction they went. She gaped into the dark night of the undersea world. She tried to find the escaping bubbles with her eyes. She looked ÔupÕ. (Or was that direction actually down?!) She could see nothing. Nothing but darkness, with the all-enveloping darkness of eternal death just around the corner from her consciousness. Judy Dan ripped the leather flight glove off her hand. She clapped her fingers to her lips and exhaled again. The bubbles travelled sideways off her fingertips. Sideways?! ÒGood God, weÕll just be swimming sideways, deep under the bayÕs surface, and we shall drown!Ó something inside her squalled. ÒNo! Bubbles travel toward the surface! ÔSidewaysÕ is really up!Ó a voice in her head commanded. With her lungs screaming, her mind increasingly a bewildered mass of confusion, Judy Dan swam frantically Ôsideways.Õ As she swam, in the rising terror of her oxygen-starved brain, she saw herself swimming through the corpses that sheÕd shot on Clinton Bridge. ÒBut theyÕre only children!Ó her co-pilot, most certainly dead now somewhere down in the drowned Hoodoo, screamed to her in the depths. Judy Dan pictured herself swimming through them. She pictured them reaching out to her and welcoming her into the eternal night of death. Her head burst gasping and shocked from the water. The fires along the shoreline of New Washington burned into her eyes. It was the sight of rioting and death, but to Judy Dan, it was as if she were viewing Paradise itself. Air! She inhaled. Her lungs went to work. Her mind cleared. The groping hands of the corpses, flung by her Gatling from Clinton Bridge, receded. ÒAnd even you, Patroclus!Ó rattled through her mind, like dead bones written on dry leaves. ÒNot tonight,Ó her mind answered the corpses floating in the waters of the bay. ÒNot yet, anyway.Ó She swam with a strong stroke toward shore, tearing her waterlogged flight suit from her body as she went. She was like a snake shedding an old skin; boots, her other glove, her zippered jumpsuit with all her prized patches sewn carefully onto it. All gone, all the skin of her old, almost-dead self. Tongsun Anu walked back to the stern of the boat. He came up beside Harold and stood next to him in the darkness. In the distance, he saw an Imperial Coast Guard cutter passing. It moved against the Oakland shoreline; the fires there mingled with the cutterÕs nautical lights. ÒHowÕs it going?Ó Harold asked. Tongsun nodded, silently. ÒGood,Ó Tongsun replied. ÒSheÕs sailing us just fine.Ó The boat rocked casually with the waves. Its engine murmured like the voices of a dozen oarsmen, lashed below decks, moving a Roman warship through Mediterranean waters. Tongsun stood beside Harold. He remembered a half-learned history lesson: Rome against Carthage. Who had won? He knew Rome had been like the Imperium, in that it had considered itself strong. He couldnÕt remember which side won, though. He thought about it for some time. Then he remembered how powerful the Nazis had felt. He smiled. He knew the outcome of their regime. A desire for total control had ended in total failure. A wave slapped the side of the boat. It cast up salt spray into TongsunÕs face. He hoped it wasnÕt a bad omen. He looked at Harold. The spray had hit him too. If the Coast Guard cutter were as low in the water as their own small boat, Tongsun told himself, the water would splash the crew of that vessel too. Harold wrapped his arms tighter around his chest. He looked at Tongsun. ÒHey T, itÕs cold, man,Ó Harold said. His voice had a slight whine to it. He looked tired. TheyÕd both been up for many hours now. Tongsun rubbed his eyes. The adrenaline rush theyÕd both felt up on Clinton bridge, battling their way through the throngs back to the International Port, had passed. Tongsun exhaled. He saw his breath in the air. ÒI know. IÕm cold too,Ó Tongsun said. The fog had thickened. It blurred the lights of the buildings floating above them, the Sky Dwellings. It blurred the white-lit veranda on the White House across the bay from them. They stared at the residence of the President of the Imperium on the bluffs across the water. ÒHave they broken in to the Sky Dwelling yet?Ó Tongsun asked Harold. The blonde boy looked over at an Asian boy who wore glasses. He sat amidst a cluster of boys on the deck of the small boat they had stolen. ÒHowÕre you coming?Ó Harold asked the Asian boy. The Asian stared at the screen of a portable computer in his lap. It was the only source of light on their boat; on purpose, to avoid detection. The Asian boy, named Wally, nodded. ÒWorking good,Ó Wally said. ÒUplink works. I think IÕve got-- IÕve got it! Contact!Ó There was a small cheer among the boys, and two girls, huddled on the boat. ÒKeep your voices down!Ó Harold hissed. ÒWe have bush,Ó Tongsun said. ÒHuh?Ó Harold asked. Tongsun nodded his head, as if to disavow the unnecessary noise heÕd made. ÒAn old line from a movie,Ó he whispered to Harold. ÒOh,Ó Harold said. He turned and looked at Wally again. Two boys, one Hispanic, the other Puerto Rican, were staring over WallyÕs shoulders. Their faces were gently illuminated by the glow of the laptopÕs screen. ÒClick on that,Ó the Puerto Rican suggested. He pointed over WallyÕs shoulder at the screen. ÒReally?Ó Wally asked. A quizzical look appeared on his face. But he followed the Puerto RicanÕs advice. There was the click of a mouse. ÒShit!Ó the Hispanic declared. His eyes, like those of the other people clustered around Wally, brightened with glee. ÒWeÕve been granted root access!Ó Wally said in a low voice, triumphantly. He looked up from the screen at Harold and Tongsun, standing in the boatÕs stern. Tongsun sighed. He looked up at the building hovering over the seaward approach to the White House. ÒTheir so-called Ôcivil societyÕ became a playground for them and a prison for us,Ó Tongsun said. The boat rocked. There was silence on board. TongsunÕs voice had the eerie sound of a verdict being delivered on the Imperium. Several boys on deck, including Harold, nodded their agreement. ÒPlaytimeÕs up,Ó Harold said. Being with Tongsun had given him an ability to say cryptic things. Things like his Samoan friend sometimes uttered. He looked at Tongsun. He grinned. But Tongsun appeared sad, as if he wished, even now, for some peaceful way to end the regime. ÒTongsun. IÕm waiting for your command to perform a Full Drop,Ó Wally said. His voice was low, but serious. He now held the lives of all the buildingÕs inhabitants in his right index finger, the one hovering over the mouse. Tongsun sighed. He appeared, for a moment, to doubt his mission. So many lives! He didnÕt even know anyone in that building! Yet he would kill them all, with one word. At this moment they were reassuring themselves of their safety, of their immunity to mortality. Their cupboards were stocked with Vitamin E and Vitamin C and they had fitness centers and medical centers and an army of guards, maintenance people, and technicians. And one very nasty bug in their computer that controlled their Lift Engines. A wave rose up over the bow and slapped seawater into Tongsun and HaroldÕs faces again. Tongsun blinked. The sea, like gravity, didnÕt care about him, he realized, or even about the Imperium itself. The sea was implacable, unfeeling. It was a domain unto itself, and the humans in a boat lying on its surface were nothing to it. In the timeframe of the ocean, humans were but children of wayward fish. They were children of fish whoÕd been foolish enough to crawl out of the womb of the sea. The sea was their original mother and, like real mothers sometimes, the sea would happily swallow them back up. Tongsun turned away from the sea, from the view of the Oakland shoreline across the bay. ÒThanks,Ó he said to Wally. ÒJust hold it a moment. DonÕt click yet.Ó Tongsun wiped the salt spray out of his eyes. He motioned for the girl behind the wheel of the boat, in the wheelhouse, to straighten the boat out. ÒShit,Ó he muttered to Harold. ÒWeÕre not ready.Ó ÒWeÕve got root access,Ó Harold said to Tongsun. ÒWhat more could you want?Ó ÒWe need to get onto dry land,Ó Tongsun told Harold. He pointed to the shoreline, looming black and large before them. ÒWe just came from the International Port,Ó Harold said. ÒYeah, but thereÕs gonna be a big wave generated when we drop that building,Ó Tongsun said. ÒWe need to moor our boat and get up out of the water.Ó ÒOh,Ó Harold said. ÒYouÕre right. ÒThereÕs never a time like the present to go visit Sausalito.Ó ÒYes,Ó Tongsun said. ÒBut we wonÕt have to go that far north.Ó Harold looked at the girl in the wheelhouse. She glanced back at them. Her silhouette stood out black and stark against the wheelhouseÕs front windshield. Beyond that loomed the dark shoreline of Lime Point. Harold wrapped his arms tighter against his body. It was cold, he complained to himself. His teeth chattered. He watched the cluster of boys around the computer screen. They waited, tensely, for the word to drop the Sky Dwelling. The small boat puttered toward the northern shore of the bay. A boy in the bow of the boat turned on a flashlight. He scanned the shoreline ahead of them. They were quite close to it now. He looked for an opening in the rocks of the shore. Suddenly, his flashlight fell into the aperture of a small cove. His beam became lost in blackness. On either side of the lost beam stood tall, wave-worn rocks. They were wet with seawater round their bases, where they sloped into the bay. The wave- splashed parts of the rocks reflected the lights of New Washington and the Oakland shore. ÒHolding at root directory level,Ó Wally announced, softly. He stared at his computer screen. Tongsun drew in his breath. ÒTime is on my side,Ó he said in a low voice. Harold turned and looked at him in the darkness. ÒThen again, maybe it isnÕt,Ó Tongsun added. His voice rose. ÒListen, everyone,Ó he said. ÒIÕm worried. IÕm afraid weÕll run out of time to drop that building before we get ourselves out of this boat. They could detect our presence in their computer at any moment. ÒRight,Ó the Asian boy agreed, nodding. ÒThe dropped building is going to make a pretty big wave in the bay,Ó Tongsun said. ÒIt might swamp our boat. If we donÕt get up on dry land, the wave could drown us. WhereÕs the person who said we should bring along Glad bags for our guns, in case it rains?Ó ÒHere,Ó someone said in the darkness. ÒGood,Ó Tongsun said. ÒBag everything. Bag all your weapons. Do it right now. Get them in bags and stow them wherever you can.Ó ÒWhat if weÕre attacked?Ó a boy asked. ÒThen weÕll get our asses blown off, Ôcause all our shitÕs stuck inside garbage bags down on our boat,Ó a boy answered. ÒWeÕll take our guns with us if we can,Ó Tongsun said. ÒBut if we run out of time to get up on dry land, we wonÕt have time to haul all our guns up with us.Ó There was a murmur among the boys. ÒNo talking! Just do it!Ó Harold said. ÒIf you have a pistol, and a belt and a holster for it, no problem,Ó Tongsun said. ÒAnything heavier needs to be bagged and stowed.Ó A sound of furious bagging ensued. The boat drew up along the shoreline in the darkness, guided by the the boy at the bow, with his lone flashlight. Weapons were wrapped. A roll of packing tape was passed around to seal them shut against the water. ÒYÕknow, Glad bags can be used as body bags too,Ó a boy said. ÒShould we save a few in case we need to bag the president?Ó ÒQuiet!Ó Harold said. A ripple of laughter passed through the boys on deck. There was a scraping sound. ÒCaptain, weÕve hit land,Ó a boy said. Their boat passed along a large, half-sunken rock. It scraped algae off its stony surface. They moved into the hole between the rocks that formed a small cove. Harold glanced back at the Presidio shoreline. ÒToo bad thereÕs not a Sky Dwelling right over the White House,Ó Harold said to Tongsun. ÒThen we could just drop the building straight down onto the presidentÕs head!Ó Tongsun laughed in the darkness. ÒTheyÕre not that stupid, Harold,Ó Tongsun chuckled. ÒShit! I think weÕve been discovered!Ó Wally blurted. He sounded worried. He didnÕt bother to keep his voice down. ÒDamn!Ó Tongsun said. Beyond the rocks, the Golden Gate Bridge loomed. Crowds of people could be heard, faintly, jostling one another up on the causeway. There were sounds of gunfire. The D.C. Sheriffs were shooting into the crowd; the crowd was firing back. Suddenly, a Hoodoo approached from the Oakland shoreline. It passed like an auger of death beneath the overhead buildings. Without bothering with a megaphone warning, it opened fire on the crowd on the bridge. ÒDamn! TheyÕre trying to eject me!Ó Wally cried. Tongsun clenched his fists. ÒFull drop!Ó he yelled. ÒHang on!Ó Harold shouted to the boys. He gripped the gunwale of the boat and gazed skyward. A building hovering near the Presidio side of the bay trembled. Its underside dipped suddenly lower. The Hoodoo passed over the Golden Gate Bridge. It banked. Like a whale caught by a spear, pulled by a whaling ship, but still full of life, the Sky Dwelling resisted. Wally tapped frantically on his keyboard. The Puerto Rican standing behind him gestured frantically, then grabbed the mouse, rolled it, and clicked. The Hoodoo came in for another pass at the bridge. Its guns began blazing. The Lift Engines on the Sky Dwelling over the Presidio side of the bay shrieked. Suddenly, the building dropped 200 feet. The Hoodoo finished its pass, rose, and slammed straight into the underside of the descending building. A cheer went up from their boat as the boys watched. ÒQuiet!Ó Harold muttered. He stared, open-mouthed, as the building struggled against the pull of gravity. ÒDammit! IÕm losing control!Ó Wally swore. ÒItÕs coming!Ó Harold shouted. He pointed up. With a tremendous roar, its engines still fighting hard, the building lost 500 feet of altitude. Then it stabilized, briefly, jarring itself to a stop in mid-air. Sections of the building broke away, unable to withstand the force of the mid-air stop. Then gravity won, and the building came crashing down. There was an enormous splash. The building toppled toward Alcatraz as it hit the bay. Mixed in with the sound of the building hitting the water, was the sound of violent explosions. Its motor puttering quietly, the boatload of boys and two girls slipped deeper into the rock-strewn cove. The view of the bay was lost to them. Tongsun stared at the rocks which surrounded them. With fear in his eyes he gazed at the slip-channel into which theyÕd passed, hoping for safety. There was a sound as of approaching thunder. Tongsun turned and looked at the huddled boys in the darkness. ÒGet ready! WaveÕs coming!Ó Tongsun shouted. The boat dropped suddenly, as the water rushed out of their cove. A second passed. The roar of thunder grew louder. The outswirling water drew the boat toward the coveÕs entrance. Then a scraping sound was heard, and a thud. The boat settled onto wet sand and caught itself in rocks on the sandy bottom. Beyond the wall of rocks protecting them from the bay, a thousand horses seemed to be thundering down on them. With a mighty crash, the wave caused by the dropped building hit the rocks on the bayward side of the cove. Salt spray hurled itself over the tops of the rocks and came splashing down into the little boat. At the same time as the boat was swamped from above, the level in the watery cove suddenly rose, tossing the boat high. They were nearly thrown over the tops of the rocks, only to fall again, within the cove, and then rise up again, then fall once more. There was a splintering sound, amidst the waves, of wood cracking. Slowly, the waters subsided. Tongsun was soaked. He looked at Harold. The boyÕs blonde hair was matted against his face. ÒWeÕre taking on water! Shit! The whole deck is flooded!Ó a boy said behind them, in the darkness. Tongsun heard splashing as people began milling about. The sound of the boatÕs engine coughed and wheezed. Then, remarkably, it returned to its usual rhythm. The boat chugged out of the cove and into the bay. ÒDamn. Nobody told that bitch to move the boat out of the cove,Ó Harold cursed. He stared through the blackness at the silhouette of the girl in the wheelhouse. ÒItÕs okay,Ó Tongsun said. ÒItÕs okay!Ó His face was drenched. His bushy black hair was matted and bedraggled. But he smiled. 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key. Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen. Next, Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the box that appears. Click on ÒfindÓ (the button to the right of the box). -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/ -When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock SturgesÕ Radiant Identities and David HamiltonÕs The Age of Innocence. Support art! -Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com - JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF story EMISSION