Get Smart Once Again! gs-3

by William Johnston

  Max looked at him puzzledly. “I don’t get the connection.”

  “Plan is the key word,” TRS replied. “If you’re going to throw three-exactly three-coins in the fountain, obviously you’re following some preconceived plan. Otherwise, you might throw one, or six, or ten, or two. Clear?”

  Max nodded. He showed the Plan to TRS again.

  “Could I hold it in my own hands?” TRS asked.

  Max shook his head. “I don’t dare lose it. It’s the only copy in existence.”

  “I would be very careful with it.”

  Max shook his head again.

  “You can hold my list in your hands,” Peaches said to TRS.

  “It wouldn’t be the same,” TRS smiled.

  Peaches scooched down in her chair, pouting.

  “You know,” TRS said to Max, “I just may be able to decode this plan for you. It so happens that I’m a traveling computer salesman. And I happen to have a computer with me.”

  Max looked him up and down. “Tiny, isn’t it?”

  “As a matter of fact, it is. It’s a miniature computer. But I don’t have it on me. It’s in my compartment.”

  Max studied him suspiciously. “A computer salesman, eh? That’s quite a coincidence-since a computer may be just the thing I need to break this code.”

  “I think that’s approximately what I said.”

  “Yes… quite a coincidence.” Max looked at him narrowly. “Has your miniature computer had any experience in breaking codes?”

  “No. But it performs wonders. I’m sure it would have no trouble with the code.”

  “What wonders, for instance?”

  “Oh, well, for instance, I suppose you’ve heard about computers that match up men and women, find the perfect mates for them. Well, this computer takes that one step further. It finds the perfect mates for other computers.”

  “Hmmmm… sort of a computer’s computer, eh?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That sounds promising,” Max said.

  “Promise me something,” Peaches said to TRS. “Promise me anything!”

  He ignored her. “Shall we go to my compartment?” he said to Max.

  Peaches leaped to her feet. “Is that a promise?”

  “Maybe you better wait here,” Max said to her. “If you act like this in a lounge car with a romantic stranger, heaven only knows how you’ll act in a compartment with a romantic computer.”

  “There’s no worry,” TRS said. “My computer is all business.”

  “In that case,” Max said, rising, “lead the way.”

  TRS got to his feet and walked toward the door of the lounge car. Max and Peaches followed closely at his heels.

  “Does this computer have a name?” Peaches asked.

  “Sam Schwartz,” TRS replied.

  “Good gracious! How did that happen?”

  “Well, Schwartz is the family name. And he was named after an uncle. Uncle-”

  “Sam,” Peaches nodded.

  “Correct.”

  They reached the door. TRS opened it, and Max and Peaches stepped out into the area between the cars.

  “This is far enough,” TRS said, joining them and closing the door behind him.

  Max looked around at the small space. “Is this the best compartment you could get?” he said. “You must have an even more limited expense account than I do.”

  “This isn’t a compartment, you fool!” TRS snarled. “We’re standing between two cars.”

  Max frowned. “What happened to your friendly, helpful attitude?”

  TRS pulled a gun. “Guess.”

  “Noman!” Peaches shrieked.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Max said. “He may be only an unusually cantankerous computer salesman.”

  “No, she’s right,” Noman said. “I’m Noman, all right.”

  “I suppose you have some means of identification,” Max said doubtfully.

  Noman pressed the gun against Max’s abdomen.

  Max nodded. “Yes, you’re Noman, all right. I remember your technique. I sometimes forget a face, but I never forget a technique.”

  “Hand over the Plan!” Noman said menacingly.

  “Wouldn’t you rather have a nice long list of romantic things to do?” Max replied. “The list doesn’t have to be decoded. Think of all the time you’d save. And time is money. Think of it as a bribe.”

  “Hand over the Plan!” Noman said again, this time more menacingly.

  “What’s the other choice?” Max asked.

  “If you hand over the Plan now,” Noman replied, “I’ll go easy on you. I’ll wait until the train reaches a tunnel, then I’ll shove you out the door.”

  “I see-that’s the easy way. Now, what’s the hard way?”

  “If you don’t hand over the Plan, I’ll shoot you both and take it anyway.”

  “In that case, I think we’ll take the easy way out,” Max said.

  “Then hand over the Plan!”

  “Not so fast,” Max said. “I’ll hand over the Plan when we reach the tunnel. Strange as it may seem, Noman, I don’t entirely trust you. If I handed you the Plan now, you might not stick around to shove us out the door when we come to the tunnel.”

  Noman sighed. “Oh, all right. But your lack of faith in your fellow man is certainly disheartening.”

  “When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you get a lit-tle cynical,” Max replied.

  The door of the lounge car opened and the conductor stepped out.

  “Excuse me, Conductor,” Max said. “But when do we come to the next tunnel?”

  The conductor got out his watch. “Oh, in about-”

  “Max! Tell him!” Peaches said.

  Max looked at her blankly. “Tell him what?”

  “Tell him that You-know-who has a you-know-what!”

  “Peaches, you’re not making any sense.”

  “Noman! Gun!”

  “Oh… that.” Max turned back to the conductor. “Conductor, it is my duty as a passenger on this train to tell you that Noman has a gun.”

  “Glad to hear it,” the conductor replied. “If there was a man on this train with a gun, I’d toss him off.” He moved on. “The next tunnel will be along in about two minutes,” he said, entering the next car. The door closed behind him.

  “Well, I tried,” Max said.

  “And nicely, too,” Noman said. “My heart was in my mouth. But.. you failed. So, get ready to jump!”

  “Ready?” Max said to Peaches.

  “Ready,” she whined.

  “Just one other thing-the Plan,” Noman said.

  “Oh… yes… sorry.” Max handed over the Plan. “In times of stress like this,” he apologized, “I sometimes overlook the small details.”

  “We’re coming to the tunnel!” Noman warned.

  “Will it be dark?” Max asked.

  “I hope so,” Noman replied. “I couldn’t stand to see it.”

  Ahead, the engine tooted.

  “This is it!” Noman said.

  They were suddenly plunged into total darkness.

  “Now!” Noman cried.

  Max and Peaches, hand in hand, jumped!

  “We seem to have landed on moving ground,” Max said.

  “I have that sensation, too,” Peaches replied.

  Then there was light.

  Max and Peaches looked around.

  “We’re in a box car,” Max said.

  “It’s a miracle!” Peaches enthused. “Our train must have been passing a freight train in that tunnel. And when we jumped, we jumped into the open top of this box car.”

  “I wonder where it’s headed?” Max said.

  “Well, it’s going in the opposite direction from the passenger train. So it must be headed for- Oh, Max, no!”

  Max sighed deeply. “Back to Washington!”

  “And Noman is headed for New York!”

  “Yes,” Max smiled, “but empty-handed.”

  “What
do you mean?”

  “When the lights went out,” Max explained, “I reached out and snatched. And I have here-” He held up a sheet of paper. “I have here-” Looking at the paper, his expression changed, losing its smile. “I have here your list of romantic things to do,” he finished sorrowfully.

  “But, Max, you couldn’t have my list.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Because, well, when I felt someone snatch my list, I snatched back. And I have it right here.” She showed him a sheet of paper.

  Max looked at it. His smile returned. “You got the Plan,” he told her.

  She shoved the sheet of paper at him. “Take it! Give me my valuable list!”

  They exchanged sheets of paper.

  “I better report in to the Chief,” Max said. “A lot has happened since we last talked.”

  “I wouldn’t tell him where we’re headed, if I were you,” Peaches said. “He’s liable to lose confidence in you.”

  “That’s not likely,” Max said, removing his shoe. “The fact that we’re on our way back to where we started is only a minor episode in this broad panorama of intrigue. It could happen to anybody,” he said, dialing.

  Operator: Cut it out, Max. A compartment on a train was hard enough to believe. But a box car?

  Max: Where I go, my shoe goes.

  Operator: Our shoe. And we don’t appreciate your wearing it in a box car. How do we know what’s been carried in that box car?

  Max: I promise to keep it off the floor.

  Operator: I’d like to see that.

  Max: Operator, will you please put me through to the Chief? He worries.

  Operator: So do we. You could ruin that shoe, the places you take it.

  Max: Operator… please…

  Operator: Don’t get itchy.

  (Pause)

  Chief: Is that you, Max? Where are you now?

  Max: I’m happy to report, Chief, that Peaches and I are aboard a train.

  Chief: Good. The Trans-Siberian Railway, I assume.

  Operator: Ha!

  Max: Not exactly, Chief. But that’s close-in a sense.

  Chief: If you’re not in Russia aboard the Trans-Siberian Railway, Max, then where are you?

  Max: Sorry, Chief, that’s classified information.

  Chief: Oh. Well then, can you give me a hint? What do you see when you look out the window?

  Operator: Who ever heard of windows in a box car?

  Chief: Max… did she say box car?

  Max: She said ‘lox car,’ Chief. You know how some pullman cars are named after states and cities? For instance, ‘The Spirit of St. Louis’? Well, this pullman was named after a specialty at a corner delicatessen.

  Chief: That’s hard to believe, Max.

  Max: Would you believe ‘sox car’? That it was named after a fellow whose first name was Bobby?

  Chief: I don’t think so, Max.

  Max: How about ‘pox car’? That it was named after a chicken?

  Chief: Max, tell me, truthfully, what do you see when you look out the doorway of your box car?

  Max: Well, a tall, skinny monument, for one thing, Chief.

  Chief: And what might the name of that tall, skinny monument be, Max?

  Max: Sam Schwartz?

  Chief: Is it named after the Father of our Country, Max?

  Max: Is Sam Schwartz the Father of our Country, Chief? That comes as a great surprise to me. I’ve always thought it was George Washington. Well, live and learn.

  Chief: You just said it, Max. Now, admit it, you’re back in Washington, aren’t you?

  Max: Not quite, Chief. But ask me that question again in about ten minutes and I think I can give you an affirmative reply.

  Chief: Max, it’s mid-afternoon, and you’ve been trying to get out of Washington since early morning. What happened?

  Max: Would you believe a wrong turn, Chief?

  Chief: Don’t start that again, Max. Frankly, I’m a little disappointed in you. I gave you the Dooms Day Plan and told you to run, and you’re still in town.

  Max: Chief, would you believe that the lights have been against me?

  Chief: Stop it, Max. Tell me what really happened.

  Max: Oh, all right. In the first place, we got aboard a plane that was flying in circles. In the second place, we drove the wrong way on a two-way highway. In the third place, we jumped into a freight train that was headed in the opposite direction. There, now, that’s the truth.

  Chief: Why didn’t you say so? That could happen to anybody, Max.

  Operator: Anybody like him, it could. He couldn’t find his own foot with our shoe.

  Max: Well, Chief, I’m sure it will be all clear sailing from now on.

  Chief: What makes you so sure, Max?

  Max: Because when this freight train gets to Washington, we intend to take an excursion boat to New York.

  Operator: They’ll never let you on the bus with it.

  Max: I think we’ve run that gag into the ground, Operator. Will you drop it, please?

  Operator: All right. But it’ll make an awful splash.

  Max: Chief, I can’t talk to you any more. There’s too much interference.

  Chief: Just one thing, Max. Have you deciphered the code yet?

  Max: No, Chief. But I expect to have the answer very soon. I’m going to begin using Peaches’ system of transposing the letters into numbers, and the numbers into letters, and the letters into- Well, you get the idea.

  Chief: Good luck, Max.

  Max: 9-12-12 14-5-5-4 9-20, Chief.

  Chief: What does that mean, Max?

  Max: It means, ‘I’ll need it,’ in code, Chief.

  Max put his shoe back on his foot.

  “I heard what you said, and I think it’s just wonderful!” Peaches gushed.

  “I did transpose those letters into numbers pretty quickly,” Max replied. “But ‘wonderful’ is rather strong. Impressive, yes-but wonderful? I think that’s putting it on a bit thick.”

  “No, no, no, no, no! I mean the news that we’re going on an excursion. That’s very romantic!”

  “Yes, going by boat has its advantages,” Max admitted. “That way, getting there is half the fun.” He scowled. “Unfortunately, coming back is pure misery.”

  9

  When the freight train reached Washington, Max and Peaches hopped out of the box car and crossed the tracks to a nearby building. Entering, they found a middle-aged man seated at a desk.

  “How-do-you-do,” Max said. “My name is Max, and this lady is Peaches. We just arrived on that freight.”

  The man picked up a paper from his desk. “That’s odd,” he said. “I’m expecting a carload of peaches. But there’s nothing on here about a shipment of Maxes.” He looked up. “Sure you got the right freight yard?”

  “It’s a mistake,” Max said.

  “Oh. Well, in that case, the peaches can stay, but the Maxes will have to find their right freight yard.”

  “Just answer a simple question,” Max said. “Where would we find a taxi?”

  The man frowned. “That’s a tough one. But I’ll give it a go. Under a taxi driver?”

  “Let me try it again,” Max said. “Is there a taxi around here anywhere?”

  The man shook his head. “Not likely. You hardly ever see a taxi in a freight office. Try down at the corner at the taxi stand.”

  “Thank you,” Max said.

  “You’re welcome. Just pile them peaches in a corner of the office here. I’ll count ’em later.”

  Max and Peaches left the freight office and walked to the corner. A taxi was standing at the taxi stand. Max and Peaches got in. Then Max addressed the driver, a plump man who looked like a typical taxi driver.

  “Take us to the pier,” Max said.

  The driver turned in the seat to face them. “Would you like to check your ballpoint pen first?” he said,

  “Noman!” Peaches shrieked.

  Max pulled his pistol and aimed it at the driver.
“Don’t make a move!”

  But the driver stuck a finger into the end of the barrel. “You’re disarmed, Smart!” he snarled viciously.

  “Not quite!” Max replied, reaching for his ballpoint pen.

  But, as Max reached, the driver jumped from the cab and raced off down the street.

  “Get him, Max!” Peaches screeched.

  Max aimed the pen. He pressed the button. A tiny motor made whirring sounds.

  Peaches groaned.

  “You’re right,” Max said. “I doubt that I could dry his hair at this distance.”

  “He got away,” Peaches lamented. “What now?”

  “He got away, yes. But his cab didn’t,” Max said. “We’ll simply commandeer this taxi and drive ourselves to the pier.”

  “Do you know the way?”

  “The cab probably knows the way,” Max said, getting in behind the wheel. “Cabs have a sixth sense about such things.”

  Peaches got into the rear seat, and Max started the engine and drove off.

  As the cab reached the corner and Max stopped for a traffic signal, they heard a voice.

  “Now, hear this,” the voice said. “This is Noman speaking!”

  Max looked around, perplexed. “Where are you?”

  “You’re hearing me over a speaker in the cab,” the voice replied. “I’m in another car, talking to you from here. I am also operating your taxi by remote control.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” Max said.

  “Would you believe, then, that I’m operating your taxi by pull-string?”

  “I don’t even believe that you’re in control of our taxi,” Max replied.

  “The proof is in the pudding,” the voice said. “I’ll drive you right through that red light.”

  “That, I’d like to see,” Max smirked.

  The taxi lunged forward and crossed the intersection, ignoring the traffic light.

  “Now, you’re in trouble!” Max said. “You just broke a traffic law!”

  “Fiddle-dee-dee,” the voice said, “What’s important is, do you believe me now?”

  Max nodded. “I believe you. You are operating this taxi by remote control. But, the question is, what will it get you?”

  “The Dooms Day Plan,” the voice answered.

  “I don’t think so,” Max replied. “Peaches and I would risk our lives to keep that Plan. If you’ll keep an eye on the taxi, in just a second you’ll see us throw ourselves out the doors.”