William Johnston: Missed It By That Much!

99 looked at Max. Max looked at 99. Then they both turned back to the Chief.

“Brassica Oleracia-212°?” 99 said puzzledly. “What does it mean?”

“Nobody knows,” the Chief replied. “We think it may be a formula. But we’re not positive. It’s possible that it’s in code. Our cryptographers have been working on it, but, so far, they haven’t come up with anything.”

“I have an idea,” Max said.

“Yes, Max?”

“Let’s ask this Dr. Livingstrom what it means,” Max said. “After all, if it was found in his laboratory, he probably wrote it. And if he wrote it, it follows then that he knows what it means. You see, Chief? Every problem has a solution. I just wonder if you’ll get that kind of thinking from this Arnold fellow.”

“Max. . Dr. Livingstrom has disappeared.”

“Oh.”

“Chief,” 99 said, “you told us that when this incident occurred it seemed completely unimportant. But, since you’re telling us about it, and in such great detail, you must have decided since then that it is important. Is that right?”

The Chief tipped back in his chair again, scowling thoughtfully. “Let’s suppose for a moment,” he said. “Let’s suppose that this notation we found-this Brassica Oleracia-212°-is the formula for the gas, or whatever it is, that exuded that horrible odor. And let’s suppose that this gas, or whatever it is, fell into the wrong hands. What would happen?”

“Somebody would have a pair of pretty stinky hands,” Max said.

“Yes, I see what you mean,” 99 frowned. “You mean, suppose KAOS got hold of it. That would be tragic.”

“Worse than that,” the Chief said. “I can just imagine how KAOS would use it. They could release the gas, or whatever it is, here at our headquarters, then, when we all fled, they could slip in, using gas masks, and go through our files. They could photograph our code books, our secret documents.”

“Then, eventually, when we returned, we wouldn’t even know what had happened,” 99 said.

“I would know,” Max said.

“How, Max?”

“I just heard the Chief tell about it. Stay alert, 99. You miss a lot if you don’t keep your ears open.”

“Yes, Max.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, though,” Max said. “After all, how could KAOS know about this gas, or whatever it is?”

“KAOS does know about it,” the Chief said. “While the Control agent who brought it to my attention was telling me about it, we were overheard by a KAOS agent who was posing as a cleaning woman.”

“How do you know that, Chief?” Max said.

“Because when the KAOS agent who was posing as a cleaning woman brought it to the attention of his chief at KAOS he was overheard by one of our agents who was posing as a cleaning woman at KAOS headquarters.”

“What a dirty trick,” Max said, incensed.

“It’s unfortunate, to say the least,” the Chief agreed. “Because KAOS has already dispatched an agent to find Dr. Livingstrom and get the secret of the formula from him.”

“Does he know where to look?” 99 said.

“He knows as much as we know, but probably no more,” the Chief replied.

“That’s a break,” Max said. “That makes us even-Steven on information, but, with me on the case, a step ahead on know-how. Who is this KAOS agent, Chief? Do we know?”

“His name is Whitestone.”

“Whitestone? Is that all? No first name? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of him.”

“Whitestone is his stage name,” the Chief explained. “He used to be in vaudeville-a magician. The description I have of him is that he’s tall, white-haired and very distinguished-looking. ”

“He should be easy to spot,” Max said. “Tall, white-haired, distinguished-looking, and pulling a rabbit out of a hat.”

“He’s new at KAOS,” the Chief said. “But don’t underestimate him, Max. I understand that he’s a master illusionist.”

“Chief, it so happens that I happen to be a master illusionist myself. I’ll match my master illusioning against anybody’s master illusioning. In fact. . Incidentally, what is a master illusionist?”

“Max, that means he can make you see things that aren’t really there,” 99 explained.

“He can also make things that are there look different than they really are,” the Chief said. “For instance, he could make a silk purse look like a sow’s ear.”

“That must explain why he went to work for KAOS,” Max said. “There probably isn’t much call for a man who turns silk purses into sow’s ears. In fact, turned loose in a department store, he could probably start quite a ruckus.”

“Chief, do we know where to look for this Dr. Livingstrom?” 99 said.

“We have a fair notion,” the Chief replied. “Dr. Livingstrom is somewhere in Africa-we think. You see, he’s a man of means. He inherited a great deal of money, and he’s able to come and go as he pleases. He could be anywhere. But all the clues lead us to Africa.”

“What clues?” 99 asked.

“Dr. Livingstrom has a hobby,” the Chief replied. “He invents fancy foods. For example, Broccoli Livingstrom is an invention of his. That’s broccoli stuffed with cornflakes and served with a rutabaga sauce.”

99 made a face. “How could anybody ever come up with a recipe like that?”

“He probably got it from Arnold,” Max said sourly.

“Be that as it may,” the Chief went on, “we began checking all the restaurants that serve food like that, hoping to pick up Dr. Livingstrom’s trail. And, we were more or less successful. We trailed him all across Europe, and then to Africa. He was last seen in Ghirzy.”

“Ghirzy?” Max said.

“That’s a country in Africa, Max,” 99 explained. She turned back to the Chief. “Although, it’s not called that any more, is it?”

“You’re right,” the Chief nodded. “Ghirzy recently became independent. It’s now called New Ghirzy.”

“Where exactly in New Ghirzy was Dr. Livingstrom spotted?” Max said.

“In the capital city, Pahzayk.”

Max nodded, making mental note of the name. “Pahzayk, New Ghirzy-got it.”

“It’s a rough, tough water-front town,” the Chief said. “But there’s an airport. I have tickets for you. You’ll be leaving on a jet in-” He glanced at his watch. “-in an hour from now.”

“Let me get this straight,” Max said. “Our mission is to go to Darkest Africa and locate Dr. Livingstrom-right? And when we find him, we’re to get him to give us the formula for this gas, or whatever it is, that creates this terrible odor-right?”

“That’s right, Max.”

“And, on the way, and as we carry out the mission, we’re to watch out for this KAOS agent, Whitestone, who is a master illusionist-right?”

“Correct.”

“Now, then, I have just one more question.”

“Yes, Max?”

“Chief, you wouldn’t really replace me with the operator’s brother-in-law, Arnold, while I’m gone, would you?”

“Max, for heaven’s sake, you have a dangerous and important mission to perform,” the Chief said, annoyed. “Think what could happen if KAOS got hold of that gas-or whatever it is! It would be disastrous. The forces of evil would have the upper hand! With all that’s at stake, how can you worry about a little thing like Arnold!”

“Sorry, Chief,” Max said, crestfallen. “I promise. I won’t let Arnold enter my mind again.”

“That’s better. Now, you better get going.”

“Right!” Max snapped. He turned to 99. “Let’s get going, Arnold!”

“Max. .” 99 said woefully.

The Chief handed Max a small envelope. “Here are your tickets,” he said. “Just don’t miss the plane. Oh, and one other thing: Research amp; Development has some new gadgets. It wants you to take some of them along and experience test them on this mission. So, stop in there before you leave.”