“Max—I hear a ringing!”
“My shoe!” Max replied. “It’s the Chief calling!”
“Hadn’t you better answer it, Max?”
“Yes—it might be important.”
Hopping down the steps on one foot, Max removed his shoe.
Max: Agent 86, here. Could you make it short, Chief?
Chief: Max? Is that you, Max? We must have a bad connection. You sound very strange—and far away.
Max: Strange how, Chief?
Chief: As if you were hopping down a flight of stairs.
Max: Actually, Chief, that isn’t so strange. I am hopping.
Chief: Shopping for what, Max? And why are you shopping? You’re supposed to be on a case.
Max: Not shopping, hopping, Chief. You see, a bunch of bad guys are chasing us. Well not bad guys, really. Actually, they’re just a little confused. You see, they think we’re the bad guys. Anyway, they’re chasing us down a flight of stairs. And, in the meantime, we got a call from you.
Chief: Max, this connection is terrible. What did you say? You took a fall on who?
Max: No, Chief—call from you. My shoe rang.
Chief: What orangutang? Stop monkeying around, Max.
Max: No, no, Chief. Shoe. Shoe. Shoe.
Chief: Max, what are you doing on a train? You’re supposed to be on a ship.
Max: Chief, I believe there’s a simple explanation for this. What I feared would happen, has happened. The further out in the ocean we get, the weaker my signal becomes. Do you understand?
Chief: That part is clear, Max. What puzzles me is how you got to Hindustan in the first place. And, now that you’re there, why you’re wasting your time buying lotion.
Max: I don’t think it came in quite as clear as it could have, Chief. Let me try again, (he shouts) We’re too far away!
Chief: Fire away at who, Max? Are you in trouble?
Max: Yes! We’re being chased! And I’m hopping down the steps on one shoe!
Chief: A pair of whose?
Max: Shoe! Shoe, shoe, shoe, shoe, shoe!
Chief: Is that the same train, Max?
Max: Chief, this is getting us nowhere. I’ll call you back later.
Chief: Max, this is getting us nowhere. Why don’t you call me back later?
Max: I will, Chief.
Chief: It’s been a thrill for me, too, Max. So long.
“Max! They’re gaining!” 99 cried, looking back and seeing the posse closing in.
“Just let me . . . get my shoe . . . back on,” Max said. “Ah . . . there now! All right—full speed ahead!”
Max, 99 and Fang plunged on at full speed for another three steps—then came to a dead end at the bottom of the stairs.
“What now, Max?”
“That way!” Max said, pointing down a short corridor. “Through that door!”
“Max, that says ‘Engine Room.’ ”
“99, this is no time to be squeamish. If it’s good enough for the Injuns, it’s good enough for us. Come on!”
They raced down the corridor, then into the Engine Room. Max closed the door behind them.
“Look, Max—engines!” 99 exclaimed.
“I’m not greatly surprised,” Max replied, surveying the huge machines. “Somehow, more or less, a fella sort of expects to find engines in an engine room.”
“Max—that man!”
“Oh, yes—the fellow at that control panel. That must be the Chief Engineer.”
“All is lost, Max!”
“No, he looks like a friendly Injun to me. Let’s find out.”
They approached the man at the control panel. “How!” Max said, raising a hand.
The man glanced back over his shoulder. “Very simple,” he said. “You just punch a button and it operates itself.”
“You Chief?” Max asked.
“Ugh.”
“Me friendly paleface,” Max said. “Gotum heap big trouble. Being chased by bad guy palefaces. Chased for many moons. Upstairs, downstairs, all around the reservation. You hide-um. Me be heap grateful.”
“Paleface brother soundum like some kindum nut,” the man replied.
“Be thatum as it may, Chief,” Max said, “the problemum still remains. Needum place to hide.”
“Costum plenty wampum,” the man said.
“How muchum?”
The man eyed the ballpoint pen in Max’s breast pocket. “Me hide-um paleface brother—including paleface sister and paleface pooch—and paleface brother slip me magic stick that write-um under Father of Waters.”
“It’s a deal-um,” Max said, handing over the ballpoint pen. “Just one thing—I wouldn’t write any big checks with that pen. It has a tendency to heat up.”
“Are you kidding? You think me ignorant savage? Chief know acetylene torch when he see-um one.”
“Where do we hide?” Max asked.
“Getum behind big machine,” the man said. “When bad guy palefaces come in, me say, ‘No spikka da Angleesh.’ ”
Max, 99 and Fang darted behind the largest of the big machines. A moment later, they heard the posse shouting ‘Halt! Stop!’ as the officers entered the engine room.
“Hey, you seen two culprits and a dog?” they heard a voice ask.
“No spikka da Angleesh,” the Chief replied.
“There is no truer friend-um than the noble savage,” Max whispered to 99.
“They must be in here,” the leader of the posse said. “This is the only place they could have gone.”
“No spikka da you-know-what,” the Chief insisted.
“True to the very end,” Max whispered.
“If you’re hiding them, you can kiss your job goodbye,” the leader of the posse said.
“Me? Hide-um? Me be crazy to hide-um one paleface brother, one paleface sister and one paleface pooch over there behind big machine.”
“I think that was the very end,” Max said.
“What now, Max?” 99 whispered.
“Rorff!”
“Right! About face! Run for it!”
Max, 99 and Fang leaped up from behind the machine, plunged through the surprised posse, and charged out the door. They raced down the short corridor, then headed pell-mell up the stairs.
Behind them, they heard, “Halt! Stop!”
“They’re playing our song,” Max commented.
Several minutes later, the trio emerged on deck. The cries of ‘Halt!’ and ‘Stop!’ were right behind them.
They ducked through a doorway, entering a long corridor.
“Max! Look! Ahead! Another dead-end!” 99 cried.
“We have only one choice, 99. They must never take us alive!”
“You mean?”
“Yes.”
“No, Max—I’m too young to die!”
“Die? Who said anything about dying?”
“You said they must never take us alive.”
“Yes. But what I meant was, we’ll have to duck into one of these staterooms.”
“Oh.” She looked down the long corridor of doors. “Which one, Max?”
“A vacant one.”
“But, Max, how do you know which one is vacant?”
“I have a little system for determining that, 99. It goes: Eeny, meeny, miney, Moe—”
Using the system, Max picked a stateroom. He grasped the door knob and slowly turned it. “It’s open!” he crowed. “The system never fails!”
Max, 99 and Fang hurried into the stateroom, then Max quickly closed the door. Pressing against it, they listened. They heard the sounds of the posse. There were shouts and calls and much shuffling up and down the corridor. Then the sounds disappeared.
“Safe!” Max breathed. “Saved by a vacant stateroom.”
“Not entirely vacant,” a voice behind them said. “As a matter of fact, it’s rather crowded right now.”
Startled, they turned—and found themselves faces to face with Herbert Wai.
11.
“DR. X, I presume,” Max said.
“Sorry . . . you must have the wrong stateroom,” Wai replied. “I’m Wai—pronounced ‘Y.’ ”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid your little game is up, Doctor,” he said. “You made one fatal mistake.”
Wai looked at him perplexedly. “Oh? What was that?”
“You—” Max frowned. He turned to 99. “What was that fatal mistake he made? It’s slipped my mind.”
“The check, Max.”
“Oh . . . yes.” He faced back to Wai. “As you will undoubtedly recall, less than a half-hour ago, you were sitting in the dining room with us having dinner. When—”
“I don’t recall that,” Wai said. “As far as I know, I’ve never seen any of you before in my whole life.”
Max scowled. “Don’t remember, eh? Well, let me see if I can refresh your memory. I was the rather handsome gentleman sitting at your left. My associate here, 99, was at your right. And this Mexican Hairless was under the table.”
“I’m sure I would remember that—if it ever happened,” Wai said. “No, I believe you have the wrong man.”
Max turned to 99 again. “Do you remember it, 99?”
“Very clearly, Max.”
“Fang?” Max asked.
“Rorff!”
“Yes, that’s right, you wouldn’t have been able to see his face, would you? Not from under the table. Well, how about his shoes? Do you remember his shoes?”
“Rorff!”
Max addressed Wai again. “Would you lift your trousers just a bit?” he said. “Fang would like to get a look at your sox.”
Wai complied.
“Rorff!”
“There, that settles it!” Max said. “Fang never forgets a sock.”
Wai sighed. “Well, for the sake of argument, I suppose we can say you’re right,” he said. “Actually, I may have been there. I have a very poor memory. There are those who say I’m a bit absent-minded. Though, off hand, I can’t recall who they are.”
Max, somewhat confused, put a hand to his forehead. “Can anybody recall what I was saying when I got sidetracked?” he asked.
“The check, Max,” 99 said.
“Yes . . . the check. That check, when you signed it, X, was your fatal mistake.”
“Sorry about that,” Wai said. “Forget to add in the tip again, did I? It happens all the time.” He reached into his pocket. “Let me make it up to you.”
“It’s a lit-tle bit too late for that,” Max said.
“Well then, next time. I’ll see that you get a double tip next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Max said. “As I said before, your little game is up. When you signed that check, you signed it with an ‘X’.”
“Oh, drat!” Wai said. “Did I do that again!”
“A-ha! You admit, then, that you are the diabolical Dr. X!”
“I admit to the Dr. X,” Dr. X replied. “But ‘diabolical’—I think that’s putting it on a bit thick. Fact is, I’m just a simple, harmless scientist. And, you can’t even prove that.”
“Oh, can’t we? What about those six guinea pigs, Doctor?”
“Six guinea pigs?”
“Six guinea pigs in a public locker.”
“Public locker?”
“Six guinea pigs in a public locker in the small lounge on A Deck.”
“Oh . . . those guinea pigs.” He looked at Max warily. “Did you see them?”
“Of course not.”
Dr. X sighed defeatedly. “Well then, I guess there’s no point in denying it. All right, I admit it. I am the diabolical Dr. X. And I do have six invisible guinea pigs stashed in a public locker in the small lounge on A Deck. But—the question is—what do you intend to do about it?”
“That’s not very kind of you,” Max said, hurt. “I was doing rather well until you brought up that question.”
“It wouldn’t do you any good at all to snitch on me,” Dr. X pointed out. “Who would believe you?”
“You forget, Doctor—I know where the evidence is stashed.”
“Six invisible guinea pigs? Who would take your word for that? The Captain?”
“Doctor, I’m going to be big about this,” Max said. “I’m willing to make a deal.”
“Not interested,” Dr. X said.
“Then let me appeal to your better nature, Doctor. You know, inside every bad guy there is a good guy trying to get out. Open your heart, Doctor, and let that good guy free.”
“Nonsense. KAOS will pay me a fortune for my serum.”
“Money, Doctor, cannot buy a good name.”
“Nonsense again. Money can buy a lot of good names—General Motors stock, Ford Thunderbird, a Tiffany diamond, Wrigley’s spearmint, Nabisco shredded wheat . . . oodles of good names.”
“Yes, Doctor, but how will you feel when you’re driving your Ford Thunderbird, clipping coupons from your General Motors stock, admiring your Tiffany diamond, chewing your Wrigley’s spearmint, and pouring cream on your Nabisco shredded wheat, and you hear someone in the crowd say, ‘There goes the diabolical Dr. X—rich in material goods, but poor in spirit’?”
“I’ll feel fine,” Dr. X replied. “I’ll buy the fellow and have him shot.”
“Doctor, I’m beginning to suspect that you do not have a little good guy inside you who is trying to get out.”
“That’s quite observant of you, Max.”
“Then there is nothing I can say that will make you consider the deal I have to offer?”
“I’m not in the least interested.”
Max pulled his pistol. “Then does this interest you?” he said.
Dr. X studied the little round hole in the end of the barrel for a second, then replied, “That interests me.”
“I knew if I kept trying I’d find your weak spot,” Max said. “Now then, here is my deal. You will turn over the formula for the invisibility serum to me. And, I, in turn—”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Dr. X said.
Max raised the pistol. “Still impossible?”
“Yes, unfortunately. The formula no longer exists.”
“I find that hard to believe, Doctor. Didn’t you write it down?”
“Yes. But I wrote it down on the back of a grocery list. And then—well, I’ve already explained how absent-minded I am. I saw that old grocery list lying around, and I tore it up.”
“But can’t you remember the formula?”
“I can’t even remember not to sign my own name.”
Max nodded. “I believe you.”
“Then, Max, our mission is accomplished!” 99 said. “If there’s no written formula, and if Dr. X can’t remember it, then he has nothing to sell to KAOS!”
“I don’t think it’s quite that simple, 99,” Max replied. “Dr. X isn’t sailing to Europe just for the fun of getting there.”
“No, getting there is only half the fun,” Dr. X admitted.
“And the other half is the money,” Max said. “Dr. X still has something to sell. Am I right, Doctor?”
“All I’ll give you is my name, rank and serial number,” Dr. X replied gruffly.
Max raised the pistol again.
“My name, rank and serial number and anything else you want to know,” Dr. X said.
“All right, Doctor—besides those six invisible guinea pigs, what else are you taking to KAOS?”
Dr. X went to the chest, opened a drawer, and took out a hypodermic. “This,” he said.
“That hypodermic needle?”
“It isn’t just any old hypodermic needle,” Dr. X replied. “It contains a dosage of my invisibility serum.”
“I see,” Max said. “It’s all becoming quite clear, Doctor. Your intention is to deliver that serum to the KAOS laboratory. There, the KAOS scientists will break the serum down into its component parts. And, with that information, they will be able to reconstruct the formula.”
“You guessed it,” Dr. X smiled.
“But, as I said twice before, your little game is up, Doc
tor. That serum will never reach the KAOS labs. I intend to destroy it.”
“Stand back!” Dr. X warned.
“I haven’t moved,” Max said.
“But you were thinking about it!” Dr. X charged. “And, if you take one step in this direction, I will inject myself with the serum and become instantly invisible!”
Max smiled. “I don’t think you’ll do that, Doctor.”
“Cross my heart!” Dr. X warned.
“No, I repeat, I don’t think you’ll do that. You see—absent-mindedly, I suppose—you forgot to fill the hypodermic with serum. It’s empty.”
“I did not forget!” Dr. X said peevishly. “I specifically remember doing it. Right after breakfast. I got up about seven. Then I showered and dressed. Then I went down to the dining room and had the Morning Special. I sat with one of the other scientists—a Dr. Zee. He had a very interesting story to tell. It seems he keeps finding some oaf in his stateroom, and he can’t figure out what he’s doing there. He keeps asking the fellow—‘Vot you doink in mine staderoom?’ he keeps saying. But the fellow won’t answer. Then, after breakfast, I went for my morning stroll on deck. Met an interesting chap. Had an interesting story to tell. Seems he’s setting up a syndicate to trade candy bars for Picassos. I tried to invest in the scheme—but he wouldn’t let me in on it. That’s the way it is when a fellow gets a good thing going. Still, it was an interesting story, and it made my morning. I was feeling in fine fettle when I returned to my stateroom. So, the first thing I did, I filled the hypodermic with invisibility serum. I remember it as well as if it were only this morning. So don’t try to tell me that the hypodermic is empty.”
“Take a look for yourself, Doctor.”
Dr. X looked.
“Empty!” he shrieked.
“I hate to be an I-told-you-so, but—”
“It evaporated!” Dr. X moaned.
“Pardon?”
“I know I put it in there!” Dr. X insisted. “I’m sure! I’m positive! I specifically remember doing it. Right after breakfast. I got up about seven. Then I showered and dressed. Then I went down to the dining room—”
“Yes, yes, we know about your morning,” Max said. “But what about the serum?”
“Evaporated! Gone!” Dr. X sobbed. “Apparently when it’s exposed to the air it just disappears. I’m ruined! My money! Gone! My General Motors stock, my Thunderbird, my Wrigley’s spearmint! Gone!”
Get Smart 2 - Sorry, Chief . . . Page 12