William Johnston: Max Smart Loses Control

“Isn’t this a little dangerous, leaving your door open like that?” Max said. “It’s no wonder Number One was stolen.”

“Our lock is broken,” the director explained. “And we can’t find a locksmith to fix it. They’re all so busy. The soonest appointment we could get was for six months from now.”

“Appointment?” 99 asked.

“You have to take the lock to them, these days,” the director replied. “They don’t make house calls.”

“Just show us where Number One was kept when she was abducted, will you, please?” Max said.

“Max. .” Hymie complained. “I’m supposed to say that.”

“Oh. . yes, sorry.”

“Are you in charge of this case, Hymie?” the director said. “I’m not surprised. I always say, ‘It takes a machine to catch a machine.’ Well, I don’t have to show you to Number One’s quarters-you’ve spent enough time with her. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to work. We have the design for the new model personal computer on the drawing board. Without Number One around, we have to do our own thinking.”

“How is it coming?” Max asked.

“Great. . great,” the director replied. “We only started yesterday and already we’ve got all our pencils sharpened. Today, we’re working on thumb-tacking the drawing paper to the drawing board. It’s quite a challenge.”

When the director departed, Hymie led Max and 99 to a rear room. It was furnished with plastic chairs and decorated with pop art posters.

“You’re right,” Max said to Hymie. “Number One is a bit of a swinger.”

Hymie nodded. “The last time I saw her, she was talking about becoming a hippie.”

“Did she?” 99 asked.

Hymie shook his head. “Her shape was against her. No hips.”

“What baffles me,” Max said, looking around, “is how our people got her in here, and how those KAOS agents got her out. If she’s as big as the Chief said, she wouldn’t fit through the door.”

Hymie walked to a pop art poster that looked like a target and pressed a finger to the bull’s eye. The whole wall raised, leaving a large opening. Beyond the opening was the alley.

Max frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s the way they got her in and out,” he suggested.

“Here are tire tracks,” Hymie said, stepping out into the alley. “They probably backed the truck up to this secret opening, loaded her aboard, and drove her away. I think we ought to follow these tracks.”

“Hymie, those tracks are going to disappear,” Max said. “Tires don’t leave tracks on cement. As soon as the truck left the alley, it ceased to leave a trail.”

“I have extra-sensitive vision, Max,” Hymie replied. “I can see tire tracks even on cement. There are a lot of advantages to being a machine. I have extra-sensitive hearing, too. I can hear a pin drop a mile away.”

“I’m sure that’s very impressive, Hymie,” Max said. “But it’s not the kind of thing you can build a career on. How many openings are there for pin listeners?”

“Hymie. . Max. .” 99 said. “If we’re going to track that truck, shouldn’t we be doing it? Every second is precious.”

They returned to the car and, with Max at the wheel, began following the tire tracks. When they left the alley, the tracks disappeared. But Hymie insisted that they were still visible to him, and he gave directions as Max steered the car through the city.

“I feel very foolish,” Max grumbled. “99. . are people staring at us?”

“Max, they don’t know we’re following invisible tire tracks.”

“But I know,” Max said. “I thought maybe they could read my expression.”

On Hymie’s order, Max turned the car into another alley. A moment later, Hymie commanded him to stop.

“What now?” Max asked.

“See those other tracks?” Hymie said. “They cross the tracks that we’ve been following. I think Number One was transferred to a different truck.”

“Nonsense!” Max said. “Why would they do that? They already had Number One in a truck, it would be foolish to waste a lot of time putting her into another truck. Hymie, the city is full of trucks, coming and going. And with all those trucks moving around, a couple of them are bound to cross paths. Let’s stick with the original tracks.”

“Max, the way I compute it, Number One was transferred to a second truck.”

“Hymie, believe me, computation is no substitute for experience,” Max said. “My superior knowledge of the way KAOS works tells me that Number One remained aboard the first truck. We’ll drive on, following the tracks we were following in the first place.”

“Max. . I’m in charge.”

“All right, be in charge,” Max said, driving on. “But do it my way.”

Hymie began giving directions again, and they soon reached the waterfront area. At the end of a pier, the tire tracks stopped.

“Hymie,” Max said, “did those tire tracks by any chance indicate that we were following a flying truck?”

The robot shook his head. “I computed it as a plain ’ol ordinary truck, Max.”

“Then, obviously, Number One was put aboard a barge or a ship at this point,” Max said.

“I still think she was transferred to another truck back in that other alley,” Hymie insisted.

“Oh, you do, eh?” Max said smugly. “All right, then, Hymie, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll separate. You can follow your silly hunch, and 99 and I will proceed according to my understanding of the intricate and devious ways of KAOS. In other words, you go back to that alley, and 99 and I will go on from here.”

“Max, it’s wet out there,” 99 pointed out.

“Let me handle this, 99. I know what I’m doing.” He turned back to Hymie. “Is that acceptable to you? Are you willing to make a contest of it? Will you pit your intuition against my expertise?”

“If that’s what you want, Max,” Hymie said sadly.

“That’s exactly the way I want it,” Max replied. “You go your way, and we’ll go mine.”

“Max-” 99 began.

“Don’t say it, 99!” Max warned. “I don’t care what you think, you have a duty to be loyal to me. I’m your own kind.”

“All right, Max. . since you put it that way,” 99 sighed.

“You better get a move on if you’re going to track that other truck, Hymie,” Max said. “Go on-shake a leg.”

“Right or left, Max?”

“What I mean is: buzz off!”

Hymie departed, sounding a great deal like a bumble bee.

“What now, Max?” 99 asked.

“My guess is that Number One is out there in the harbor somewhere, 99,” Max replied. “She’s probably aboard a sea-going laboratory that’s disguised as a barge. If I were KAOS, that’s the way I’d do it.”

99 looked out into the harbor. “Max, there are a lot of barges out there. What are we going to do, go from one to the other?”

“That would take too much time, 99. We’re going to get a look at them from the air.”

From the pier, Max and 99 drove to the secret Control airport and signed out a helicopter, then flew back to the harbor area and began examining the barges from the air.

“There it is!” Max cried victoriously. “See that great big barge with that single crate on its deck! That barge has KAOS written all over it!”

“That says ‘Miss Madison Avenue,’ Max.”

“What I mean is, 99, why such a big barge to carry just one crate? And the answer is: below deck, there’s a laboratory, and it’s swarming with KAOS scientists who intend to brainwash Number One. We’re lucky we found her before they could get her uncrated.”

“Well, maybe, Max,” 99 said doubtfully. “What do we do now? Fly back to the airport and call the Coast Guard and have them board that barge?”