William Johnston - Get Smart Once Again!

“Keep trying,” Max said, settling back in the seat.

“I think I’m getting something,” Peaches said. “So far, I have the words ‘bad’ and ‘he’. That leaves me with ‘acb’.”

“Hmmmm. Bad he. Or, he bad. You’re right, there might possibly be something there.”

“But I can’t make anything out of ‘acb’.”

“How about ‘bac’? He bad bac. Perhaps it refers to someone with a slipped disc or a strained sacroiliac.”

“Max! I have it!”

“What? What?”

“It’s ‘He bad cab’.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Max said. “It doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“Max-what are we riding in?”

“A taxi.”

“No, no, what’s the other word for taxi?”

“Hack?”

“No, Max. Cab!”

“In other words, you’re saying that we’re riding in a bad cab. Or, in still other words, that our cab driver is a bad guy.”

“That’s it, Max. Our driver is-”

At that moment, the driver turned in the seat to face them. “Permit me to introduce myself,” he said, smiling sinisterly. “I am I. M. Noman!”

“Yes,” Max said peevishly, “and you also bad cab.”

As Max spoke, the cab suddenly shot forward at a tremendous speed. And at the same time, Noman turned completely in the front seat, facing Max and Peaches, and ignoring the steering wheel and other controls.

“Help!” Peaches shrieked. “We’ll be killed.”

“You know, that possibility does exist,” Max said to Noman. “We’re hurtling forward at-” He looked at the speedometer. “At ninety-one-point-three miles per hour, and no one is at the wheel. It’s conceivable that an accident could occur.”

“As a matter of fact, it’s entirely unlikely,” Noman replied. “This cab is electronically-controlled-and programmed to avoid all obstacles.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Max said.

“Would you believe, then, that it’s programmed to avoid ninety per cent of the obstacles?”

“That sounds a bit more like it,” Max said. “After all, no one is perfect-not even an electronically-controlled cab.”

“This cab is as close to perfect as any cab now in existence,” Noman said. “It was the cab, in fact, that made it possible for me to find you in that deserted section of the city. You see, it has a homing device. I can direct it toward any of several objects and it will speed unerringly to the target. To find you, all I had to do was set the dial on ‘Max Smart’.”

“This is insane!” Peaches said. “I don’t believe it-not any of it!”

Noman indicated a dial on the control panel. “See for yourself.”

Max and Peaches leaned forward and peered at the dial. It had several settings-‘Max Smart’-‘Potomac River’-‘Busy Bee Lunch’-‘Public Library’-‘Frank’s Shoe Repair’-‘Hotel Windsor (Room 603)’-‘Miscellaneous’.

“Busy Bee Lunch?” Max said.

“They serve the best beet soup in town,” Noman explained.

“I see. I also notice that, right now, the indicator is set on ‘Potomac River’. Is that significant?”

“No, it’s a plain old river.”

“What I mean is, is the cab, by any chance, headed for the Potomac River?”

“I’m glad you asked that,” Noman replied. “It saves me the trouble of pointing it out. And time is important in this case. For, in a very few minutes, this cab will plunge-carrying with it all its occupants-directly into the Potomac River.”

“Help!” Peaches shrieked again.

“That won’t help,” Noman said. “The cab can be stopped only by disengaging its homing device. And, of the three of us, only I know how to do that.”

“Would it be unreasonable to suggest, then, that you do it-before we all plunge into the river and drown?” Max said.

“Not unreasonable, but pointless. I have no intention of disengaging the device until I have the Dooms Day Plan in my hands.”

“Give it to him!” Peaches screamed at Max.

Max looked at her disappointedly. “You seem to forget-the fate of the entire you-know-what hangs in the you-know-what.”

“But we’ll all be drowned!” she wailed.

“That’s a telling point,” Max admitted. “However, I sort of promised the Chief that I’d look after this Plan. And it just isn’t nice to break a promise. So, I guess we’ll all just have to drown.”

Noman pulled a gun and pointed it at Max’s head. “Maybe this will change your mind.”

“To a drowned man, a hole in the head is not particularly troublesome,” Max replied.

“But suppose I shoot you, take the Plan, then disengage the homing device and escape?”

“Now, that could be troublesome,” Max admitted.

“Give him the Plan!” Peaches begged.

“No,” Max said. “Obviously, the only honorable thing to do is swallow it.”

“It’s too big to swallow!”

“Not bite by bite, it isn’t,” Max replied. And, so saying, he took a bite off the corner of the sheet of paper.

“You fool!” Noman raged. “This means your death!”

Max frowned. “Is paper poisonous?”

“No, but it means that I have no choice. Now, I must send you to your end in the river.” He looked out the front window. “And the river is only minutes away.”

“For heaven’s sake, hurry,” Peaches said to Max. “If you’re going to swallow the Plan, do it!”

“My mother taught me to chew thoroughly,” Max said. “It’s the secret of good digestion.”

“What does that matter! You’re going to die!”

“Perhaps so. But not because of poor digestion.”

“We’re almost to the river!” Noman cried. “Hold your noses!”

Max sighed heavily. “I can’t go through with it,” he said. He handed the Plan to Noman. “Here, take it.”

“Oh, Max,” Peaches squealed. “You did this for me.”

“No, I did it for my digestive system,” Max said. “I just couldn’t eat that Plan. It’s the most poorly seasoned Plan I ever tasted. It tastes like… well, like paper.”

Peaches turned to Noman. “You have the Plan. Now, stop the cab!”

“Like fudge, I will!” Noman laughed. “Your doom is sealed. Now that I have the Plan, I intend to eject myself from the cab, and leave you two here to plunge into the Potomac.”

“Exactly what I’d expect from a KAOS agent,” Max said. “Your actions are like your Plans-tasteless.”

“Toodle-loo!” Noman said. “I am now going to activate my ejection seat, rocket into the air, and descend safely by parachute.”

Then, smiling evilly, Noman punched his ejection button.

But, just as he did, Max reached out and snatched the Plan from his hand.

Noman went shooting through an opening in the roof of the cab-without the Plan.

“I did it!” Max cried. “I saved the day!”

“For how long?” Peaches said gloomily. “We’re still headed for the river.”

“But we have the Plan! The entire you-know-what of the you-know-what is no longer hanging in the you-know-what.”

“In a few minutes, I don’t think that’s going to make much difference to me,” Peaches moaned.

“We may still be able to escape,” Max said. “Try the doors.”

But the doors were all locked.

“Good-by, Max,” Peaches wept. “I wish I could say it had been a pleasure knowing you.”

Max was looking out the rear window. “There’s Noman,” he said. “He’s floating safely down to earth by parachute. But — without the Plan. I guess that proves it-the good guys always win.”

“Max! I can see the river! We’re lost!”

“We couldn’t be lost if you can see the river,” Max said. “That’s where we’re headed-the river. So how could we be lost?”

“I mean we’re doomed!”