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Our story so far: a pedophile and three little girls dressed in
FrederickÕs of Hollywood costumes try to survive in the final days of
earthÕs future.
Andrew Roller Presents
GIRL PATROL
Chapter Five
Real men worked this mine, hard-digging men who knew the value of
a dollar, because thatÕs all they were paid for a dayÕs work in it. When the
mine played out the company moved on. Since it was the middle of the
depression when the mine gave up the last of its coal, the company left a
big gaping hole under the ground, miles of tunnels and chambers, and
mineshafts leading to the top that were only indifferently sealed. One
mineshaft was left so poorly blocked-off that by the 1960Õs it had become
a hangout for children, or at least the uppermost part of it had, where the
old iron elevator sat motionless, perched at the top of a mile-long shaft.
Had Bill Gates been the one to die in 1978, Microsoft would not have
dominated the computer world by the 1990Õs. But it wasnÕt Bill Gates who
died, because he knew nothing of the mine or the old mineshaft manned by
the motionless elevator.
In 1976, the year of AmericaÕs Bicentennial, just before the Fourth
of July, Henry Dorkson and his friend Milton found the mineshaft. They
couldnÕt resist entering its old elevator, though it wouldnÕt budge no
matter how hard they tried to get it to lower itself down into the bowels
of the earth. The next day, on the third of July, they went into the old
generator shack that stood next to the mine opening. The generator was a
victim of years of neglect and, since the 1960Õs, long summers of abuse.
But Henry Dorkson and Milton set about repairing it. By August they had it
repaired, and by the time they went into the eighth grade, at George
Washington Junior High, they had some solar cells hooked up to the
generator to give it that extra ÒoomphÓ that would get it going and keep it
running.
In November they learned how to bypass the generator altogether.
An array of solar cells, open to the hot Arizona sky but hidden from the
prying fingers and eyes of children, powered the elevator that Henry
Dorkson and his friend Milton had in working order.
The year 1978 saw the introduction of the first Apple computer.
Henry Dorkson and Milton were ready for it. They were fascinated by
cryogenics, the freezing of bodies, but they needed a computer to run it all
and keep it going in their absence, powered by the solar cells a mile above
their heads.
Down deep in the mine, they installed the first of the Apple
computers. They hooked it up to the cryogenic bed theyÕd constructed. To
their delight the solar cells ran the Apple just fine, and the cryogenic bed,
big enough to squeeze in two adults. It was a year before Alien, and
already they had beaten Ridley Scott to the punch, constructing a bed that
most people wouldnÕt see until a year later. Henry Dorkson and Milton
congratulated themselves on their accomplishment.
ÒBut, man, we need to get a volunteer,Ó Henry said to Milton. He gave
him an appraising look, prompting Milton to say, a little fearfully,
ÒNo way, Henry! IÕm not getting into that thing.Ó
ÒIt would only be for a little while. Like making a snow angel or
something,Ó Henry Dorkson said.
ÒIÕve never made a snow angel,Ó Milton answered, for, unlike Henry,
heÕd lived all his life in Arizona.
ÒI guess weÕll have to find someone else then,Ó Henry said. MiltonÕs
eyes lit up.
ÒHey! How about Fat Arnold? ItÕs big enough for him,Ó Milton
suggested.
ÒI knew there was a reason we built it so big,Ó Henry Dorkson said.
ÒLetÕs go ask him. If we promise him lunch at McDonaldÕs he just might
say yes.Ó
ÒSure,Ó Milton agreed. And they went and found Fat Arnold, and he
found the offer of a burger to irresistible to pass up. Plus a coke, extra
large, and fries and a shake, of course, all paid in advance. When Fat
Arnold was nice and full he let Henry and Milton show him their
Òexperiment,Ó deep in the mineshaft.
ÒHey, we used to play here!Ó Fat Arnold said, as he passed the
generator shed. ÒBut IÕve never been inside before,Ó he added, as the boys
directed him eagerly into the old iron elevator. He meant, of course, not
the elevator itself, which heÕd even fallen asleep in, back in the fourth
grade, on a hot summer day, but the shaft. Down they went into the ever-
cooler mineshaft, leaving the hot desert behind, going down to the
Òcomputer roomÓ that Henry and Milton had constructed deep in the bowels
of the earth.
ÒJust lie down, Arnold. WeÕll take care of the rest,Ó Henry told Fat
Arnold. The big boy obliged; the walk out to the old mine had been tiring
and the trip down the mineshaft was rather unnerving and scary. In this
well-lit room, though it was deep underground, Arnold laid down in the
large cryogenic bed his two friends had constructed. He had nothing to
fear from the boys. They were friendly, geeky guys, not prone to playing
tricks on him like some of the other children. Henry and Milton went to
their computer and babbled happily in geek-speak. Arnold listened for a
bit, then started to doze off. He didnÕt notice when Milton and Henry eased
a plexiglass shield over the top of the cryogenic compartment. When the
gas hit him, it rendered him unconscious. Then, inside his plexiglass-
domed bed, Fat Arnold lay there as the temperature went down. Farther
and farther, until it was well below that found in any refrigerator or
freezer.
ÒItÕs working!Ó Henry grinned at Milton. The boy observed the body
and said,
ÒThe computer should keep him going, although that is a lot of
blubber to keep alive.Ó
ÒDonÕt worry. Everything will work out okay,Ó Henry assured Milton.
ÒWhat are we going to say to ArnoldÕs mother if we kill him?Ó Milton
asked, growing a tad nervous as ice crystals began forming inside the
compartment, on the interior of the glass.
ÒItÕs not a problem. WeÕll let him sleep for awhile and then weÕll
wake him up,Ó Henry told Milton.
ÒBut the experiment is successful based on how long we keep him on
ice,Ó Milton replied. ÒWhat are we going to do, wake him up in time to
send him home for dinner? Nobody will believe that we could have kept
him under for decades.Ó
ÒWeÕll keep him down for a week and then revive him,Ó Henry said to
Milton. But the other boy knew his friend well enough to know when he
was lying.
ÒYou want to keep him here forever,Ó Milton said to Henry. His
friend blinked at the accusation, then frowned.
ÒYou want to be in on this or you want to be a sissy?Ó Henry asked
Milton.
ÒIÕm just saying--Ó Milton persisted.
ÒLetÕs go celebrate at McDonaldÕs. WeÕll discuss what to do and take
a vote.Ó
ÒAlright,Ó Milton said. They had been so excited at recruiting Fat
Arnold that they hadnÕt eaten with the boy when heÕd had lunch. TheyÕd
just sat with him, watching him down their money, eagerly telling him
how important heÕd be once their ÒexperimentÓ had proved that they were
great scientists. Now, feeling in their pockets to come up with the last of
their change from their lawn mowing jobs, they took the old elevator back
up to the surface. It would be a great lunch, although not as lavish as Fat
ArnoldÕs, and as they ate it they would prepare the speeches they would
undoubtedly be asked to give to the Nobel Prize committee.
In the event, Henry Dorkson and Milton were so overwhelmed with
the apparent success of their ÒexperimentÓ that they forgot a most basic
lesson of kindergarten. Failing to look both ways as they crossed the
street, they were struck by a bus and killed.
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
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-- Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427)
is copyright 2001 by Andrew Roller. Dreamgirls, Naughty Naked
Dreamgirls, and NND are registered trademarks of Andrew Roller.
All rights reserved.
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