Nancy, George, and Bess put their shoulders together against the door, but whoever barred it had done a solid job. As usual, they would have to use their wits to get out of this latest scrape. They felt their way back to the table.
"Figurski is a Polish name, too, isn't it?" George said.
"Yes," confirmed Nancy. "It means 'a handsome body.'"
For a moment, the suspicion hung in the air between Nancy and George that if Frank Figurski were part of this scene, which he wasn't, he would be playing Theodore Kaczynski. In other Holodeck scenarios, Figurski had tricked Vieuchanger and Nguyen out of their real-life servomechanisms, the key information-flow components of Rosellini's 1737 mechanical pig and van Gelderschott's 1884 forgery that they had secreted away from him in a previous scene.
"The servomechanism won't work without the Prime Mover," whispered "Nancy," revealing to "George" the small but powerful motor she kept in a zippered pocket.
"Exactly!" replied George, patting her own pocket suggestively with Nancy's hand.
"You have the other Prime Mover!" said Nancy excitedly.
"What are you two whispering about?" asked Bess innocently. "I'll bet it's Ned Nickerson!"
The mention of her quasi-boyfriend's name usually made Nancy blush, though one couldn't tell in the darkness of the locked shack. Ned was often away — studying overseas, for example, as he was in this case — so as not to exacerbate any 18-year-old sexual tension. Like Kaczynski and Figurski, Ned remained safely beyond the fringe, outside the margins of this jerryrigged plotline.
Just then, Nancy had an insight. "I believe we've discovered one of the Unabomber's secret shacks!"
"How so?" George asked, knowing that the world's best girl detective would provide some evidence for her bold claim.
"My father said there was a rumor at the trial that Kaczynski had secretly built two other shacks, which the public wasn't informed about, in the vicinity of his main shed," Nancy explained.
Finally, their eyes had adjusted well enough for them to look around inside. The shack consisted mostly of crude wooden shelves containing rows of neatly-arranged boxes. On the floor was a hand-made stool and small table holding a single wash basin or bowl.
"You mean this is, like, his vacation retreat?" joked George, her brown eyes flashing brightly below her boyishly-short jet-black hair. "Wow, I wouldn't want to spend much time in this place!"
Nancy chuckled. She and George and Bess had been through many other adventures together, such as The Secret of the Old Cock and The Mystery of the Glass Coffin, and she counted on George's quirky but athletic sense of humor even in the worst scrapes.
"Now let's see what Mr. Kaczynski was up to in here," Nancy said, quickly growing serious again. She placed the stool atop the table and George hoisted her up. Reasoning that any booby-traps intended for intruders would be placed down low, Nancy slid a box off the top shelf, careful to feel for wires first. George and Bess set the heavy carton on the table and cautiously brushed off the dust, and Nancy squinted at the printing.
"It says ... Hormel!"