Get Smart 4 - Max Smart and the Perilous Pellets (8 page)

“No, Max, read on,” 99 said, looking over his shoulder.

“All right. ‘In cases of emergency, the rusting process can be hurried by the use of heat. Note: friction creates heat.’ ”

“Max! We’re saved!”

“We are?”

“Max, apply the rust to the bars, then brush the bars with the electric toothbrush. The brushing will cause friction, which will create heat.”

Max thought a second, then replied, “99, I think I’ve got an idea. Why not apply this rust to the bars, then brush the bars with the electric toothbrush?”

“How will that help, Max?”

“Don’t be a needler, 99,” Max replied sourly. “Nobody likes a needler.”

“Sorry about that, Max.”

Max applied the rust to the bars, then switched on the electric toothbrush and began brushing the bars. Within minutes the bars had rusted away.

Max put all the items back into the black bag, then he and 99 stepped from the cell.

“What now, Max?” 99 asked.

“To the laboratory,” Max replied. “We still have to plant the explosive.”

They moved quietly along the corridor until they came to Dr. Gill’s plant laboratory. Then, entering, they made their way along a row.

“Ah—here’s what I want!” Max said.

“Max, that’s a tomato plant.”

Max opened the black bag. “As of now, it is,” he said. “In about a second it will be a cross-breed—a peamato plant.” He straightened, holding a tube. “In this tube,” he explained, “I have cement. I’ll simply glue this pellet—which looks like a pea—to the tomato plant, and when Dr. Gill sees it, he’ll think he has a peamato.”

“Good thinking, Max. And, of course, he’ll take special care of it.”

“Yes, until the whole thing blows up in his face,” Max smiled.

Max glued the pellet to the tomato plant, then put the cement back into the bag, and closed the bag. “Now, to escape from the installation,” he said, leading the way out of the laboratory.

“How, Max?”

“Don’t ask questions, 99. I have a theory. But if it were questioned too closely, I’m afraid I might find out that it won’t work.”

“I won’t say a thing, Max.”

Stealthily, they made their way along the corridor. Soon they reashed the room that housed the ventilating system.

“Now, when I say ‘now’,” Max said, “you and I will hold onto the end of this pipe.”

“This pipe where the air comes out?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t see—”

“Please, 99, no questions.”

“All right, Max.”

Max reached up and turned a small wheel. “Now!” he said.

He and 99 grabbed hold of the pipe.

“Max—”

“That little wheel controls the air pressure,” Max explained. “As you can see, air is now rushing into the tank—right?”

“Yes, I see, Max. But—”

“And what happens when you blow a lot of air into a bubble?” Max said.

“Well . . . it gets larger.”

“You will note that the bubbles in the tank are growing larger. They are growing so large, in fact, that the tank cannot hold them. So, what will happen?”

“They’ll burst.”

Max shook his head. “Soap bubbles would burst,” he said. “But these are plastic bubbles.”

“Then they’ll—”

“Right. The bubbles will be pushed out this pipe. When that happens— Ah—here comes one now. You’ll see what will happen.”

A film of plastic slowly emerged from the end of the pipe. As it did, it enveloped Max and 99, forming a gigantic bubble that enclosed them.

“Max!” 99 squeaked. “We’re inside the bubble.”

Max nodded smugly. “That’s my theory,” he said.

“But, Max—”

“Please! Don’t question it!”

The bubble suddenly broke loose from the pipe. And, carried by the air flow, it floated toward the doorway.

“Now I understand!” 99 said. “We’ll be carried out through the exhaust system in the bubble.”

“Exactly.”

“But, Max, there’s one thing I don’t under—”

“99, no! No, not yet!”

“All right, Max.”

As the gigantic bubble floated toward the exhaust system, Dr. Gill suddenly rushed out of his office. He shouted at Max and 99, shaking his fist savagely. But, closed off by the plastic film, they couldn’t hear him.

Raging, Dr. Gill punched the button on his gadget.

“Max! Air!” 99 gasped.

“There’s no need for that, 99,” Max replied calmly. “We have an air supply inside this bubble. Dr. Gill’s control has no effect on it.”

“Oh,” 99 replied, free of panic.

“Wave goodbye to Dr. Gill,” Max smiled.

99 waved.

Dr. Gill shook his fist again.

Then the bubble entered the exhaust system, emerged from the installation, and rose toward the surface.

“Max, that was brilliant,” 99 gushed. “We’re free.”

“Not quite,” Max pointed out. “We’re still inside the bubble.”

“Can’t we puncture it?”

“I’m afraid not, 99. It’s very thick, very durable plastic.”

The bubble popped to the surface and floated. Overhead Max and 99 could see the helicopter hovering.

“Max, we’re trapped!” 99 cried.

“I have one more theory, 99,” Max replied. “Now—ask your question.”

“My question?”

“Remember—when I told you my first theory, you had a question about it?”

“Oh . . . yes. Max, since we’re heavier than the bubble, how will it float in the air? Won’t our weight—”

The instant the question was out, the bubble burst, dropping Max and 99 into the water.

“Max! What happened!” 99 cried, floundering in the ocean.

“Well, my second theory was that my first theory wouldn’t actually work,” Max explained. “You see, that’s what happens when a man has a theory, and his theory is questioned. It’s proved to be wrong—and his bubble bursts.”

99 shuddered. “Max . . . suppose your first theory had been right!” she said.

“Don’t even think about it,” Max replied. “In that case, we’d still be trapped down there in the installation. And, worse yet, we’d be having seaweed for dinner!”

The helicopter was hovering directly over them now.

“I’m throwin’ down the ladder!” Lance Chalfont called.

“Throw away!” Max replied.

Lance Chalfont tossed a ladder out the open doorway. It hit the water and immediately sank.

“There’s a joke on me!” Lance Chalfont hooted. “I shoulda held on to the other end!”

“Well, live and learn!” Max shouted back. “Try again with something else!”

“I’ll throw a rope,” Lance Chalfont replied.

“Throw away! But, first, tie the other end to something!”

“Gotcha, boy!”

Lance Chalfont disappeared from the opening for a moment, then reappeared, holding a coil of rope. He tossed it out the doorway.

Max caught the rope, and pulled, testing his weight against it. The rope gave. A picnic basket came through the opening, fell through the air, struck Max a glancing blow on the head, then disappeared below the surface.

“Let me guess what you tied the rope to,” Max shouted.

“Did I do somethin’ wrong, boy?”

“Get another rope,” Max called. “Tie it to something that’s anchored down. Tie it to a seat!”

“I’ll tie it to your seat!” Lance Chalfont shouted back. “If I’m gonna lose a seat, I don’t want it to be mine. That’s how us silent birdmen fly, you know, by our seats.”

“We’re drowning!” Max bellowed. “Hurry!”

“Gotcha, boy!”

Lance Chalfont disappeared from sight once more. Then a second later he reappeared and tossed a second rope out the opening.

Max tested it and found it firm.

“Lady secret agents first,” Max said, passing the rope to 99.

Minutes later, they reboarded the helicopter.

“Get your pea planted?” Lance Chalfont asked.

“Indeed we did,” Max smiled. “Now, on to the next destination. Which is—” He opened the black satchel and got out a sheaf of papers. “—the KAOS training school in Switzerland,” he announced. “Lance, do you think you can find Switzerland?”

“Sure. That’s that place with them tall prairies.”

“Mountains, you mean.”

“Is that what they’re called? No wonder they didn’t know what I was talkin’ about that day I came draggin’ back to the airport without my airplane! I told ’em I’d hit a tall prairie. They looked at me like I had my ailerons on backwards. I guess we just wasn’t communicatin’.”

“That was probably it,” Max nodded.

“Well, here goes nothin’!” Lance Chalfont beamed, swinging the helicopter in the direction in which he guessed Switzerland might be.

“Max, shouldn’t you report in?” 99 asked.

“Good idea, 99.”

Max took off his shoe, poured ocean water from it, then dialed.

Operator:
Max! Stop it!

Max
(puzzledly): What did I do, Operator?

Operator:
You got water all over me! It came pouring out of my receiver!

Max:
Sorry about that, Operator. Will you connect me with the Chief now, please?

Operator:
This is a $7.95 dress! It’s ruined!

Max:
I’ll buy you a new dress, Operator.

Operator:
With what? You can’t even collect your overtime. They still owe you a $1.74, you know.

Max:
All right, Operator. Put it on the bill—on Control’s bill.

Chief:
I heard that, Max. You’re not authorized to put dresses on the phone bill.

Max:
Then how about this, Chief? The Operator can charge her new dress to our phone bill, and when I get back to Headquarters, you can inform me that charging dresses to the phone bill is not allowed, and that you’re going to take it out of my salary.

Chief:
That may be the solution, Max. Operator, how does that sound to you?

Operator:
I’ll do it. So don’t be surprised when you see a charge for a $20 dress on your phone bill.

Max:
$20 dress, Operator? You said it was a $7.95 dress.

Operator:
$12.05 for mental anguish. I’m sitting here in a wet dress.

Max:
Oh.

Chief:
Do you have anything to report, Max?

Max:
Yes, Chief, I can report that 99 and I have successfully planted the second explosive. And, we are now on our way to the KAOS training school to plant the third explosive. How’s that for action, Chief?

Chief:
Not quite good enough, Max. The KAOS agent has already planted his second and third explosive and is on his way to the fourth installation.

Max
(chagrined): Are you sure, Chief?

Chief:
Well, a KAOS agent was seen slipping away from our undersea weapons arsenal and our training school.

Max:
But are you positive that he’s headed for our fourth installation? Maybe he’ll stop for lunch.

Chief:
That’s possible, Max. Maybe you and 99 can skip lunch, and, in that way, catch up.

Max:
Fine. That fits right in, Chief. It just so happens that Lance Chalfont threw the picnic basket into the ocean, anyway.

Chief:
Good luck, Max!

Max:
Thank you, Chief.

Operator:
And, Max, take care of our shoe. Don’t step on any tall prairies.

Max hung up.

“T
HAR SHE
blows!” Lance Chalfont cried.

Max and 99 looked out the front window. “Yes, that’s it, that’s the KAOS training school, all right,” Max said.

Below, situated on a mountain peak, they saw a complex of ivy-covered stone buildings, surrounded by a high stone wall. They could see KAOS student agents moving about on the grounds.

“Sure surprises me,” Lance Chalfont said. “You take a training school, a fella expects to see a lot of trains. Where you suppose they keep ’em? Downstairs?”

“I think you’re attaching the wrong meaning to the term ‘train,’ ” Max said. “In this case, train means to instruct. At this school, young men are trained—or instructed—in the methods used by KAOS. When they graduate, they are fully
trained
KAOS agents. Now, do you understand?”

“Just about,” Lance Chalfont replied. “There’s just one thing I don’t get. Where do they keep the trains?”

“Downstairs, I suspect,” Max replied. He turned to 99. “Well, somehow we have to infiltrate that school,” he said, “But, first, we have to get over the wall. And since we left our collapsible pole back there in the desert, we are faced with a bit of a sticky wicket. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Couldn’t Lance Chalfont land us inside?” 99 said.

“Too noisy,” Max replied. “We would be bound to attract attention.”

“We could glide in,” Lance Chalfont said. “To glide, what you do is, you just turn off the engine and glide.”

“That’s an idea,” Max replied. “That would be quiet, anyway.”

“They don’t call me the silent birdman for nothin’,” Lance Chalfont said.

Max pointed. “See that clear space behind that large building?” he said to Lance Chalfont. “Could you glide the helicopter down into that space?”

“Don’t rightly know,” Lance Chalfont replied. “I never glided this crate before. Every time I turned off the engine and tried to glide it just fell right smack-kaboom right out of the sky.”

“Like a rock?” Max asked.

“Yup. Just like a wounded rock.”

“In that case, we better think of something else,” Max said.

“Max, why don’t we parachute?” 99 said.

“Wait a minute! I just had an idea!” Max said. “We’ll parachute!”

“Max—that’s clever!” 99 applauded.

Max and 99 put on parachutes, then stood in the open doorway.

“Hover directly over that clear space behind that large building,” Max said to Lance Chalfont. “We don’t want to land among the students. They might suspect something.”

“I’m hoverin’,” Lance replied.

“Now!” Max cried.

Lance Chalfont tipped the helicopter and Max and 99 tumbled out and hurtled toward the ground. A moment later their chutes opened.

As they floated leisurely downward, side by side, Max opened the black satchel.

“Let’s see what the old fact sheet has to say,” he said, getting out a sheaf of papers.

“Max, I don’t think we’re going to land in that clear space,” 99 said, looking down.

“Oh, we’ll hit it all right,” Max replied, looking at the fact sheet. “Let’s see now . . . it says here that the KAOS training school is operated by The Professor. He—”