“The important thing is, now we have a victim, someone to take the part of the enemy agent,” The Professor said. He looked Max up and down. “You look a little familiar,” he said. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”
“Yes, sir. You’ve seen me right here,” Max replied. “And, every time, you’ve taken away my dessert.”
“If you’re that kind of student, you deserve everything that’s coming to you.” He stepped to the instructor’s desk and picked up a weapon, a pistol. “This-” he began.
But at that moment a senior stepped into the room, and all of the freshmen snapped to attention, interrupting.
The senior began making the rounds with his hand out. “Sorry, sir,” he said to The Professor. “Just collecting for the Senior Fun.”
“Perfectly all right,” The Professor smiled. “Tradition is more important than education. And don’t forget my ten per cent cut.”
As soon as the senior had finished making the collection, he saluted The Professor, slipped him his ten per cent cut, then departed.
“And that concludes our lesson on weapons,” The Professor said to the class.
Frank Sadwell stepped forward. “Excuse me, sir,” he said. “But you haven’t demonstrated the weapons yet.”
The Professor looked surprised. “I haven’t? Are you sure?”
Sadwell indicated Max. “The enemy agent is still alive,” he pointed out.
“Snitch!” Max hissed.
“By Harry, you’re right,” The Professor said. “There he is, standing there, straight as a beanstalk. That couldn’t be-not if I’d demonstrated the weapons. Well… we’ll remedy that.” He picked up the pistol again. “This little item was sent to us just recently by R amp; D,” he said. “It’s an electronic pistol. And, according to R amp; D, when fired, it paralyzes the enemy by freezing his brain cells.”
There was applause from the freshmen.
“You’re out of order!” The Professor snapped. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of-a pistol that freezes a man’s brain cells!”
The freshmen booed.
“That’s better,” The Professor smiled. “We don’t want to encourage those featherheads at R amp; D. I don’t want to, anyway. That’s why I’ve modified this pistol. I took out all those little doohingies they had inside it, and I put in some good old-fashioned dependability.”
There were cheers again.
“I will now demonstrate,” The Professor said, facing toward Max. He aimed the pistol directly at him.
“Are you sure it’s harmless?” Max said worriedly.
“What kind of a weapon would it be if it were harmless?” The Professor growled. “You sound like those featherheads at R amp; D.”
“But, have you considered the consequences?” Max said. “If that pistol isn’t harmless, you may lose a freshman.”
“Our classes are too large anyway,” The Professor replied. “This is one way of whittling them down to size.” Again, he aimed the pistol.
But at that moment another senior entered the room. The freshmen snapped to attention. And Max snapped to attention and ducked.
“Excuse me, sir,” the senior said to The Professor. “Just collecting for the Senior Fun.”
“Proceed,” The Professor smiled. “On the usual terms, of course.”
“Of course, sir-your ten per cent.”
The senior began collecting. When he reached Max, Max gave him a nickel.
“Cheap!” the senior snarled.
“That’s my last cent,” Max explained.
“You won’t need money where you’re going,” The Professor said comfortingly.
The senior, having finished the collection, handed The Professor his cut, then departed.
“Now then, on to the next classroom,” The Professor said.
Once more, Frank Sadwell stepped forward. “Just a reminder, sir,” he said. “You haven’t demonstrated the weapons yet.”
The Professor scowled. “Are you-”
Frank Sadwell interrupted, pointing to Max.
“By Harry!” The Professor muttered. “Well, on with the demonstration.” He aimed the pistol squarely at Max’s head and pulled the trigger.
A boxing glove popped from the end of the barrel and caught Max right between the eyes. Max dropped to the floor.
99 rushed forward. “Max! Are you all right!” She bent down to him.
“He’s fine. Unconscious is all,” The Professor said. “Surely you don’t think I would knock him off this soon! I need him for further demonstration.” He addressed the group again. “Now that is dependability,” he said. “R amp; D can keep it’s new-fangled gadgets. When you’re up against the wily enemy, what you want is a good old-fashioned pistol that fires a boxing glove out the barrel and pops the adversary right between the eyes. Can’t beat it for dependability. The old weapons are the best weapons. Remember that!”
Aided by 99, Max sat up, regaining consciousness.
“Max! Are you all right?” 99 fretted.
Max shook his head, trying to clear it. “My brain cells are a little chilly,” he said. “But, otherwise, I feel awful.”
“On your feet, make-believe Control agent!” The Professor commanded. “This is no time to lounge. I have other weapons to demonstrate.”
“Maybe someone else would like to volunteer,” Max said, rising. “I don’t want to hog all the glory.”
The Professor turned to the group. “Would someone else like to volunteer?”
There was no response.
“Come, come,” The Professor urged. “Who else will volunteer?”
Frank Sadwell stepped forward. As he did, he gave Max a second shove.
“Well, all right,” The Professor said to Max. “If you want to hog all the glory, it’s fine by me. After all, it’s your funeral.”
“He was pushed!” 99 protested.
“That’s a serious accusation,” The Professor frowned. “Who pushed him?”
99 pointed at Frank Sadwell. “He did! I saw it!”
“Ha! Watching the other students while you’re supposed to be paying attention to my lecture, eh!” The Professor growled. “For that, you lose your dessert. Now, on with the demonstration.” He walked to the desk. “Over here, victim,” he said to Max. He indicated a large metal box that was sitting on the desk. “According to R amp; D,” he said. “This machine is a laser-powered lie-detector. Ever heard anything funnier than that?”
The freshmen roared with laughter.
“Naturally, I had to modify it,” The Professor said.
Max put a hand in front of his face.
“It doesn’t fire a boxing glove,” The Professor said.
“Oh.” Max lowered the hand.
“Stand right here, right beside the machine,” The Professor ordered.
Max obeyed.
“The way those featherheads at R amp; D had this worked out,” The Professor said to the group, “whenever a question was asked, and a lie was answered, a little light went on and a bell rang. Obviously, it was undependable that way. What do lights and bells know about truth? As modified, however, the machine is one-hundred per cent effective. I’ll prove it.” He faced back to Max. “I’ll ask you a question,” he said. “You can answer it with the truth or a lie, it won’t make any difference.”
“Is there any other choice?” Max asked.
“It still wouldn’t make any difference,” The Professor replied. “Now, here’s your first question. If there are fourteen apples in a dozen, and you bake twelve of the apples into a cherry pie, how long is a piece of string?”
Max puzzled for a moment. “A long piece of string or a short piece of string?”
“It doesn’t make any difference,” The Professor replied. “What is your answer?”
“A peach pie,” Max replied.
The instant he answered, a rubber hose popped from the machine and began beating him about the head and shoulders. Max leaped out of range, but not before he had been severely clubbed.
“See? I told you it didn’t make any difference,” The Professor smiled. “Lying or telling the truth, that rubber hose beats the stuffing out of you. It’s fool-proof!”
“It’s certainly more effective than lights and bells,” Max agreed.
“Oh, you’re not convinced, eh?” The Professor said. “All right, we’ll try another question. Take your place beside the machine.”
“I’m convinced,” Max protested.
“You say that, but you don’t really mean it,” The Professor replied. “I can see it in your eyes. You doubt the value of my modification. In fact, pretending to be a Control agent, you think you can beat the machine. Don’t you?”
Max smiled. “Well, I think we ought to realize that there are some very clever Control agents. I have one in particular in mind. You may have heard of him. Max Smart is his name. As I understand it, he is Control’s top agent, and, when it comes to brains, a whiz kid to boot.”
“I accept that challenge,” The Professor said. “Make believe you are this Jack Sharp.”
“Max Smart. M-a-x S-m-a-r-t.”
Frank Sadwell stepped forward. “This freshman is correct, sir,” he said to The Professor. “Jack Sharp is Control’s top agent-according to the notation on the back of his ‘Wanted’ poster.”
“Max Smart,” Max said.
“Oh, you keep up on ‘Wanted’ posters, eh?” The Professor said approvingly. “Would you know this Sax Heart if you saw him?”
“Max Smart,” Max said.
“His image is etched in my brain,” Frank Sadwell replied. “I would recognize him anywhere, under any conditions.”
“Very good,” The Professor smiled. “That’s the kind of students we need at KAOS.” He turned back to Max. “All right, we shall proceed. Stand beside the machine, and pretend that you are Max Smart.”
“Jack Sharp,” Max corrected, stepping to the machine.
“Here is your question,” The Professor said. “If beetles are bugs, and the Beatles are boys, how many boy beetles does it take to bug a Beatle boy until he boils?”
Max smiled smugly. “My answer,” he replied, “is ‘yes and no.’ ”
The machine chugged, clanked, then fell silent. The rubber hose did not appear.
“Traitor!” The Professor shrieked at the machine.
“I think it lost its cool,” Max smiled.
The Professor snatched up the pistol, aimed at the machine, and fired. The boxing glove popped out of the barrel and struck the machine square between the dials. The machine chugged again. Then the rubber hose popped out and began beating Max about the head and shoulders.
Max, stunned, dropped to the floor.
“Max!” 99 cried, rushing to him.
“Can’t beat old-fashioned dependability,” The Professor cackled. To the group, he said, “Take five. Then, after recess, I’ll demonstrate the rest of these weapons. I think you’ll be particularly interested in our new white corpuscle destroying machine. It has an intriguing boxing glove attachment. Dismissed!”
The freshmen straggled out, followed by The Professor.
“Max! Wake up!” 99 pleaded, patting Max’s face.
Max stirred. “What’s the next question?” he said fuzzily.
“Are you all right, Max?”
“I don’t think I know the answer to that. Do you have an easier one?”
At that moment, Frank Sadwell returned to the room. He was carrying a pail of water. “The Professor asked me to revive him,” he explained to 99. “He wants him to be in shape for the next demonstration.”
“I’m revived,” Max said.
Frank Sadwell threw the water into his face.
“Why did you do that?” Max asked, annoyed and dripping.
“I always follow orders,” Frank Sadwell replied. “The Professor said, ‘Throw some water in his face and revive him.’ ”
“But, I told you, I was already revived.”
“That only covered the ‘revived,’ that didn’t cover the ‘water,’ ” Frank Sadwell said. “You should have said, ‘I’m already revived, and you don’t have to throw water in my face.’ How was I to know?”
“My apologies,” Max muttered.
“Outside,” Frank said to Max and 99. “The Professor wants you to get some fresh air so you’ll be in shape for the next demonstration.”
“Couldn’t we stay in here?” Max asked.
“The Professor wants-”
“I know, I know-outside.”
Max and 99 left the room, followed by Frank Sadwell. When they got outside, Frank moved on, and joined The Professor, who, a short distance away, was talking informally to a number of the freshmen.
“Max, how are we going to plant the explosive?” 99 said worriedly. “There isn’t any place out here to drop it.”
“99, I think the time has come to make a policy decision,” Max said.
“Yes, Max?”
“The question is, which is more important, planting that explosive or saving the life of Jack Sharp?”
“Who, Max?”
“Sorry. That beating mixed me up a bit. Max Smart, I meant to say.”
“I don’t think I understand, Max.”
“99, the only way we can plant that explosive is to return to the classroom. But, if we return to the classroom, The Professor will continue to use me to demonstrate the KAOS weapons. And, frankly, 99, I don’t think I’ll survive. Now, do you understand?”
“I think so, Max. But what’s the answer?”
Max threw up his arms, covering his head.
“I’m not the lie-detector, Max. I won’t hit you,” 99 said.
“Instinct,” Max explained. “From now on, whenever I hear that question, ‘What is the answer,’ I’m going to duck.”
“Then, what can we do? Is that better, Max?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t answer the question. Which is more important, 99? Planting the explosive, or my life?”
“Max, that’s easy. Your life is more important.”
“I tend to agree with you on that, 99.”
“But, on the other hand, planting the explosive is very important, too.”
“Yes, it’s a difficult decision to make.”
“It’s your life, Max.”
“That makes it easier,” Max said. “Let’s run.”
“We better not run, Max,” 99 said. “That might create suspicion. Let’s just walk.”
“99, this is my life. I say let’s run!”
“Let’s compromise, Max. Let’s trot.”
“That’s fair.”
Having reached the decision, Max and 99 trotted toward the gate.
“After we escape,” 99 said, “maybe we could drop the pellet on the school grounds from the helicopter. We might hit it, you know.”
“99, we couldn’t even hit the school grounds with two bodies,” Max said. “We tried it, remember? When we parachuted.”
“Well, we could try, Max.”
Max halted. “It’s no use,” he said. “Duty first. I can’t leave, 99, until after I’ve planted that explosive. Even if it costs me my life. We’ll have to go back.”
“Max… you’ll be in tremendous danger!”
“Yes,” Max replied grimly, “and hating every second of it.”
“But, if that’s what you want, Max…”
“Attenshun!” a voice barked.
Max and 99 found themselves facing a senior.
“Cough up,” the senior commanded.
Max turned his pockets inside-out. “You’re out of luck, fella,” he said. “Every cent I had is in the Fun already.”
“We’ll take anything of value,” the senior said. “What do you have in the black bag?”
“A change of shirts,” Max replied.
“Let’s see.”
“I don’t want to waste your time,” Max said. “If you’ve seen one change of shirts, you’ve seen them all.”
“I’ll chance it,” the senior said, taking the bag from Max and opening it. He frowned. “These aren’t shirts.”
“I must have picked up the wrong black satchel when I left home,” Max said.
The senior took out the packet of explosives. “What are these green gumdrops?” he said. “I’ve never seen green gumdrops shaped like this before. They look like peas.”
“It’s a new gimmick to keep children from eating gumdrops,” Max replied. “They think they’re peas and won’t touch them.”
“I’ll take a handful,” the senior smiled, taking a handful. “I’ll put them in the Senior Fun. With these gumdrops on hand, we won’t need money. That’s what we spend the money on, anyway, when we go into town-gumdrops.” He dropped the remaining pellets back into the bag. “I’ll stop you later and get the rest of them,” he said. “I don’t like to be greedy all at once.”
“The world could use more seniors like you,” Max said.
“Dismissed!” the senior barked. And he strolled away.
“All right, 99,” Max said. “Back to the classroom.”
“Max! No! We don’t have to now!”
“I’m afraid we do, 99. The decision has been made.”
“But, Max,” 99 said, tugging at him. “The explosive has been planted. Our mission has been completed!”
“Pardon, 99?”
“Those pellets, Max! That senior will put them in the Senior Fun. They’re planted!”
Max frowned thoughtfully. “It seems too easy.”
“But it’s true, Max. Now we can escape. You don’t have to sacrifice your life.”
Max looked a little disappointed. “I was getting used to the idea,” he said. “I thought I might even get a medal.” He shrugged. “Ah, well, easy come, easy go. Let’s go, 99.”
Once more, Max and 99 trotted toward the gate. A few moments later, reaching it, they were stopped by the sentry.
“Identification,” he ordered.
Max and 99 produced the identification papers they had taken from the real students.
“Now there’s a coincidence for you,” the sentry said. “Macy and Gimbel. It was only about an hour ago that another pair with those names came in here. And now, here you two are, leaving. It’s a small world.”
“I’ll bet a lot of interesting things happen to you, out here on guard duty,” Max said.
“Would you believe it?” the guard replied. “Just this morning, I saw two people jump out of a helicopter.”
“That’s a lit-tle hard to believe,” Max smiled.
“Suppose I told you they were wearing parachutes?”
“A bit far-fetched,” Max replied.
“And thumbing through a sheaf of papers on the way down?”
“You’re pulling my leg,” Max said.
“You’re too sharp for me,” the sentry grinned. “But you’d be surprised at the number of people who would believe a story like that.” He saluted. “Have a fun time in town,” he said. “Don’t eat too many gumdrops.”
Max and 99 sauntered on.
When they got out of sight of the gate, they left the the road and entered the underbrush. Macy and Gimbel were still where they had left them, still bound and gagged. Max and 99 released them.
“Did we pass the initiation?” Macy grinned.
“With flying colors,” Max replied. “Now, you’re free to go on to the school and take up your studies. In fact, you’re expected in The Professor’s class. He’s conducting a lecture on modern weapons systems.”
“You better hurry,” 99 said.
Macy and Gimbel darted off through the underbrush.
“A word of advice!” Max called after them. “Don’t volunteer for anything!”
But they were out of earshot.
Max and 99 returned to the road. The helicopter was hovering overhead. Max signalled to Lance Chalfont, and the helicopter began descending.
“This is certainly going to be a banner day for that sentry,” Max smiled. “Imagine! Three sets of Macys and Gimbels in one morning!”