William Johnston - The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold

“The storm, Max-it’s letting up.”

“The Chief is going to be very unhappy about that, 99.”

“About the storm? Why?”

“Not exactly about the storm,” Max replied. “More about what we’re going to discover, I’m afraid, when the storm ends. I just stuck my hand down into the sand and found out that I’m not sitting on anybody’s shoulders.”

“But where’s Abdul?”

“That’s part of what the Chief’s going to be unhappy about. If Abdul is gone, I should be sitting on von BOOM’s shoulders-right? But I’m not. And that means-unless I’ve suddenly lost my powers of deduction-that Professor von BOOM is gone, too.”

“Max, you don’t mean-”

“Apparently so, 99. My guess is that Abdul is a KAOS agent, and that he took advantage of the storm to kidnap Professor von BOOM.”

“Max! That’s terrible!”

“It certainly is. Although, of course, it could be worse.”

“I don’t see how, Max.”

“If I’d paid him his guide fee in advance, I’d really be feeling silly about now,” Max explained.

The storm ended as suddenly as it had started. Max and 99 looked around. There was nothing but sand, sand, sand, sand as far as the eye could see. The sun blazed down on them.”

“Max, I wonder if Abdul left us any water,” 99 said.

“No. But I think he left us his share of the sand. None seems to be missing.”

“Max-what are we going to do?”

“There’s only one thing we can do, 99-try to find our way back to town. The chances are mighty slim, but, we have no other choice.”

“Which way is it, Max?”

“I’m not really sure, 99. But, in this case, we do have a choice. It’s either that way or that way or that way or that way, or somewhere in between.”

“Then, all we can do is just start walking and hope for the best.” 99 sighed woefully. “I suppose we might as well get started.”

“99, I don’t want to be the one to be the grouch in this small crowd,” Max said, “but I think I could make better headway if you’d climb down off my shoulders.”

“Oh. . yes. . sorry, Max.”

99 jumped down and they set out across the sand, hoping they were traveling in the direction of the town. The sun seemed boiling hot. They soon weakened, near collapse.

“Water. . water. .” 99 gasped.

“Ice cream soda. . ice cream soda. .” Max wheezed.

“Max. . that’s. . ridiculous. .”

“I know. . 99. . But. . if somebody answered our cries. . and I got water. . and I learned later that I could have had an ice cream soda. . I’d be pretty let-down. .”

“Max. . we’ll. . never make it. .”

“Don’t give up, 99. Where there’s a will. . there’s a way. .”

“Then. . Max. . get up off the sand. . and keep walking. .”

“I was looking. . for camel tracks. . 99.”

“Did you find any?”

“I don’t. . know. . If I did. . they were full of sand. .”

“Max!” 99 suddenly shouted. “We’re saved! Look! Coming this way! A ship, Max!”

“99. . did anyone ever tell you. . that you have a very sick sense of humor?” Max asked.

“Max, it is! It’s a ship! It’s a ship!”

“99, you have a very sick sense of humor.”

“Max, look! Look, please!”

Max raised his head and peered out across the desert. “I apologize, 99,” he said drearily. “You’re right. I see it, too. It is a ship. It’s a four-masted sailing ship. A whaler, I believe. It’s probably on a whaling expedition. Whale blubber brings a very good price, I’m told.”

99 looked at him puzzledly. “Max, you’re not very excited. I don’t understand-we’re saved!”

“99, think about it a minute. So far, how many whales have you seen out here on the desert? You could probably count them on the fingers of one elbow. Now-keeping that in mind-ask yourself: What would a whaling ship be doing out in the middle of the Sahara Desert?”

“Max, I don’t care what it’s doing out here,” 99 said. “Maybe it’s off course. The important thing is, it’s here! I see it! You see it!”

“We’re seeing a mirage, 99. A mirage is an hallucination. It’s a figment of the imagination. It doesn’t exist. It’s a trick of the mind.”

“I know what a mirage is, Max. But that ship is real.”

“A ship sails on water, 99. This is sand we’re standing on.”

“Max, that ship is on wheels.”

“You have a very sick sense of mirages, 99.”

“It’s on wheels, and there’s a whole long string of automobiles following it.”

“You have a very sick and crowded sense of mirages, 99.”

“Max! Someone’s waving to us from the deck!”

“Wave back, 99. Let’s not let the fact that we’re dying out here in the middle of the desert make us forget our manners.”

“Max, the ship is almost here! There’s a man on the deck. He’s wearing knickers and a Hawaiian shirt and sun glasses and a pith helmet.”

“Sick, sick, sick, 99.”

“Max, the whole caravan is stopping-the ship and the cars. The man is being lowered in a longboat. The longboat is resting on the sand now, Max. The man is getting out. He’s heading this way, Max!”

“Ask him how he’s fixed for ice cream sodas,” Max muttered.

“Max! He’s here!”

Max raised his eyes. Standing before him was a small, dumpy man who was wearing sandals, knickers, a Hawaiian shirt, dark glasses and a pith helmet. “99, you’re mirage is straight out of Hollywood,” Max said.

“Greetings, natives,” the man smiled. “I’m Max von Sydesheau, straight out of Hollywood. I’m shooting a picture out here. Moby Dick. I could use you two as extras. Either one of you had any experience ducking a harpoon?”

“Water!” 99 gasped.

“Now, wait a minute,” Max said, staring narrow-eyed at the man. “Are you for real? Do you expect us to believe that you’re actually a motion picture director? That you’re making a movie of Moby Dick? Where’s your whale?”

“In the trunk of one of the cars,” Max von Sydesheau replied. “It’s inflatable. That means that if you blow air into it-”

“I know what inflatable means,” Max broke in. “But it still doesn’t make sense. Why would you bring a ship-”

“Water!” 99 gasped.

“Just a second, 99,” Max said. “There’s something very fishy about this.”

“It’s in the trunk of one of the cars,” von Sydesheau said. “It’s inflatable. You-”

“Don’t change the subject,” Max snapped. “Why would you bring a ship way out here into the middle of the desert to shoot a sea picture? Why not film it on the ocean?”

“My ship leaks,” von Sydesheau replied. “I’m working on a very tight budget.”

“Water!” 99 gasped.

“Well, now it’s beginning to make a little sense,” Max said grudgingly. “But, I’m sorry, we’re not available as extras. You see, we’re a couple of secret agents, and we’re on duty.”

Von Sydesheau nodded. “Spying on the sand-I got it.”

“No, no, we got caught in a sand storm and we’re lost,” Max said. “If you could just help us get back to civilization, we’d-”

“Water!” 99 gasped.

“-appreciate it a great deal,” Max continued. “We have to report in to headquarters.”

“Of course. You can go back when we go,” von Sydesheau said.

“Uh. . about how long will that be?”

“Well, let’s see. . we start shooting in the morning. If we’re lucky, and we don’t get a blowout in the whale, in about six months, give or take a month.”

“Well. . since our mission is somewhat of a bust, I guess there’s no hurry to get back,” Max decided. “All we’ll get is a bawling out, anyway.”