William Johnston - And Loving It!

“This way, 99!”

There was a crash! Max had broken through the wall into another room.

“That was quick thinking, Max,” 99 said.

“Actually, 99, I thought I was heading back up the steps. Apparently I lost my sense of direction in the darkness.”

They looked around the room they had entered. It was crowded with glass cases that were mounted on pedestals. Inside the cases were ancient musical instruments.

“It’s the music room, Max,” 99 said, fascinated. “Look at all those wonderful old instruments. There’s a sixteenth century Strumplecord, and a bass saxopular, and a thirteenth century hinkenschmaller, and a-”

“99, that’s very interesting. But when the guards and Lucky Bucky get to that hole in the wall they’re going to guess where we are.”

“I know, Max. But, look, there’s a fourteenth century aphelkhnocker! ”

“99, will you-”

“In there!” they heard Lucky Bucky shout. “Grab ’em!”

Max and 99 ran to the door. Max yanked it open and they darted out into the corridor.

“Which way, Max?”

“It’s time to split up, 99. If they get one of us, the other can try to complete the mission. You go that way, and I’ll go this way.”

They ran down the corridor, each in a different direction. Max turned left and raced down another corridor. Meanwhile, 99 turned right and dashed down a different corridor. At the next corner, Max turned left again. 99, reaching the next corner, turned right. They met head-on in the corridor, crashed, and staggered back, stunned.

“I think we better stick together, Max,” 99 said.

“Either that or work out some signals,” Max replied.

Lucky Bucky and the guards appeared at the end of the corridor.

“Grab’em!”

“Is that all he can say, grab’em and zop’em?” Max complained. “I’m getting a little tired of hearing it.”

“I don’t think you’ll be hearing it much longer, Max. He’s bound to catch us sooner or later. He knows the castle, and we don’t. Oh-oh! Here they come again.”

Max and 99 turned and ran back along the corridor. When they reached the corner they turned right, then, at the next corner, took another right. They came to an open doorway and ran into the room.

“And a whelpschmacher,” 99 said. “And a pianissimo, and-”

They dashed back into the secret passageway and raced up the steps. A few moments later they reached Guru Optimo’s room. Once more, he sat up in bed.

“Have you been thinking about that offer to rejoin Control?” Max asked.

Guru Optimo grinned. “What do you mean, ‘limp,’ Doctor? You operated on my lower lip.”

“Oh. Well, it was a natural mistake,” Max replied.

Behind them, Lucky Bucky’s voice shouted, “Zop’em!”

Max and 99 dived under the bed.

The guards dived under after them.

Max and 99 emerged and ran toward the doorway.

There was a flash of light.

“Duck!” Max warned.

The flash missed them. They darted through the doorway.

Behind them, they heard, “Quack! Quack! Quack!”

“He got another guard,” Max guessed. “Poor fellow. I wish now that I’d yelled something besides ‘duck!’ ”

99 looked back. “Max, they’re right behind us! Where to now?”

“I’m not sure, 99. I guess we’ll- No! Up ahead! See that!”

“That door at the end of the corridor, you mean, Max?”

“Yes. It’ll save us!”

“Max. . how?”

“See what it says over the door?”

99 peered ahead. “It says. . ‘Squash Room.’ Max, what is that?”

“Squash is a game, 99. It’s played on a four-walled court that is sixteen-feet high by eighteen-and-a-half feet wide by thirty-two feet deep. The back wall, which is shorter than the front wall, usually measures about nine-feet. Horizontal service lines six-and-one-half feet high are marked on both the front and back walls, while a floor service line is marked off ten-feet from, and parallel to, the back wall. The court is marked into two service-”

“Max, that’s fascinating,” 99 interrupted. “But what makes you think a squash room will save us?”

“Don’t you want to know what the game is played with, 99?”

“All right, Max.”

“A hard rubber ball.”

“Gee.”

“It’s one-and-three-quarters inches in diameter.”

“Golly whiz. Now, what makes you think the squash room will save us?”

“Because I doubt very much that it’s a squash room, 99. When this castle was built, the game of squash hadn’t even been invented.”

“I see. Then what is the squash room, Max?”

“Unless I miss my guess, it’s V. T. Brattleboro.”

“Max-”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense, 99. Would a Spanish castle have a squash room? Of course not! What’s happened is, Brattleboro has clouded our minds, making us think that he’s a squash room.”

“Max, I’ve never doubted you as a source of wisdom, but-”

“Believe in me, 99. Don’t change sources in midstream.”

“All right, Max.”

They reached the squash room. Max opened the door, they dashed in, then Max slammed the door behind them.

The room was vacant. There were no windows, and no other doors.

“Didn’t I tell you, 99?” Max said. “Do you see any service lines? Do you see a hard rubber ball? I knew this wasn’t a squash room. It’s completely empty.”

“It doesn’t look much like V. T. Brattleboro, either, Max.”

“But it looks like Brattleboro masquerading as an empty room. You can’t argue with that, 99.”

There was a sound at the door.

“It’s Lucky Bucky and the guards, Max.”

“Don’t worry, 99, Brattleboro won’t let them in.”

“Smart! You’re in there-right, baby?” Lucky Bucky called in.

“Snug as a couple bugs in a KAOS agent!” Max called back. “Your luck has run out, Lucky Bucky. You’re locked out.”

There was a burst of laughter from outside.

“He’s taking it well,” Max said to 99.

“You know, Max, we’re also locked in,” she pointed out.

“But safe, 99. That’s what’s important.”

Then they heard another sound-the sound of a motor starting. This was followed by a different sound-the sound of gears grinding.

“Max. . what was that? It sounded as if it were right here in this room.”

“Maybe it was Brattleboro shifting his feet,” Max suggested. “It probably gets tiresome masquerading as a vacant room.”

99 looked upward. “Max. .”

“Yes, 99?”

“Max, doesn’t that ceiling look lower to you?”

Max, too, peered upward. “You’re slumping!” he called out.

“Who are you talking to, Max?”

“Brattleboro.”

“Max, this room isn’t Brattleboro. We’re in a trap. The ceiling is being lowered on us. We’re going to be smashed.”

Max thought for a moment. Then he called out again. “Lucky Bucky? Still there?”

“Still here, Max Baby. Still enjoying the little joke.”

Max went to the door and tried the knob. “Locked,” he reported to 99.

“The ceiling is getting lower and lower, Max.”

“Lucky Bucky?” Max called again.

“Here, Max Baby.”

“Just as a matter of curiosity, do you play much squash in this room?”

“Never used it before,” Lucky Bucky replied. “It was put in by the Spanish gentleman what built the joint. He used it to squash his enemies.”

“I see.”

“That explains a lot, I guess, Max,” 99 said gloomily.

“Yes, a great deal,” Max nodded. “Everything, in fact, except why, with no service lines marked on the walls and floor, it’s called the Squash Room.” He shrugged. “We’ll probably never know.”