Raiders of the Lost Toilet Factory

I cover the rest of the distance in a few steps, and we wait on the roof for any reaction, my imagination conjuring a barking Doberman, a wailing Klaxon and the metallic chatter of a machine pistol.

The first ventilation hut we reach is paneled in, so we head to the second, which is open. We turn on our lights for the first time and shine them down into the darkness. They penetrate unbroken to an empty concrete floor 20 feet below.

Big Tex climbs into the opening, searching the darkness with his feet. As he hangs on a rusty roof beam, his legs dangle without finding any purchase. After watching his brother flail in midair for a few minutes, Geoduck goes to check the other ventilation hut and quickly waves us over. Below this opening, intersecting pipes and valves form a lattice that reaches nearly to the bottom. Still, the darkness between their rusty lengths seems to eat the flashlight beam, giving the impression that we are descending into the maw of an industrial monster.

"Every time I go exploring my balls get bigger," Geoduck had said earlier. "I must have planet-sized balls by now."

Now, however, we have run up against his one weakness: a fear of heights. To compensate, Geoduck often tries to play a mental trick, thinking of any vertical space as the distance between him and his fear. It doesn't seem to be working. He remains frozen for an eternity halfway through the descent.

Finally, gingerly, he reaches the factory floor. Our flashlights reveal machines that look like preposterously huge car engines connected with a steel spaghetti of tubes. Chemical stalactites have formed at the joints of some of the pipes, making it appear as though they are melting. We tread carefully, mindful that guards might be passing outside.

The office upstairs is a mess, not necessarily ransacked but filled haphazardly with equipment nobody could be bothered to take along. Geoduck illuminates a chemical hazard warning sign on the floor.

"Oh, man, that is awesome! Can I take it?" Big Tex asks.

"No," his brother responds.

"Come on! Let me take it!"

"No!"

"Can I at least look at it?"

"No."

Big Tex, it seems, still has some UE indoctrination to absorb, but in his older brother he has an instructor for life.

"When I'm 60 years old," Geoduck says, "I'll still be crutching in there."