William Johnston: Sorry, Chief…

“Yes,” Max agreed. “And the most interesting thing is, there’s so much of it. Space, that is. It’s probably never occurred to you, but space, you know, is all around us. Most people don’t think much about that. They take it for granted. Space, that is. As a scientist, however, I appreciate that. Whenever I want to study a little space, all I have to do is open a window, and there it is. Space. That makes it quite convenient for me. I don’t have to send out for it, and wait for the delivery truck to arrive.”

“Yes, that’s an advantage we pathologists don’t have,” the scientist in the middle said.

Max nodded. “I have noticed an acute shortage of paths,” he said.

“No, no,” the scientist smiled. “A pathologist is a medical doctor who makes a study of cadavers.”

Max squinted at him. “Mushrooms?”

“Cadavers are dead bodies.”

“Oh. Yes, now that you mention it, I have noticed an acute shortage of dead bodies. But… things will pick up, I’m sure. One little epidemic, and your problem will be solved.”

The pathologist sighed. “It’s too much to hope for,” he said. “Doctors today have no regard for science. An epidemic starts, and, right away, they rush in and stop it.” He sighed again, more deeply. “It’s not like the old days.”

“For that matter, what is?” Max sympathized. “There’s the story of Wilbur and Orville Wright, you know, when they still had that bicycle shop, before they even thought about inventing the airplane. One day, one of their customers said to Orville, ‘Wilbur,’ he said, ‘one of these days, man is going to fly to the moon-what do you think of that?’ Well, Orville-or Wilbur, as the case may be-looked at the customer for a moment, then, very dramatically, he said, ‘Hand me that socket wrench, will you?’ ”

The scientists stared at Max dumbly.

“He was putting a wheel on a bicycle,” Max explained.

One of the scientists groaned softly. Another closed his eyes, as if he wanted to be alone. The third scientist left to freshen up his milk shake.

“After he put the wheel on, he attached a basket to the handlebars,” Max said. “Bicycles were used as beasts of burden in those days.”

“I think we better mingle some more, Max,” 99 said.

“Yes…”

As they moved away from the two scientists, 99 suddenly clutched Max’s arm. “Max! Look! Over there! Across the room! A clean-shaven scientist!”

But Max refused to look. “I’ve been rebuffed enough for one day,” he pouted. “No more scientists.”

“But, Max! Clean-shaven!”

Max ventured a peek. “Hmmmmm. You’re right, 99. And, he looks like a good-natured sort, too. Well, all right, we’ll approach him. But he better be in better humor than the other scientists we’ve tackled today. One more icy stare, and I’m going to my stateroom and hide my head and not come out until I get a written apology-in triplicate!”

“Max, don’t be so sensitive.”

“A secret agent has feelings, too, you know.”

“But you’re supposed to hide them, Max.”

“That’s what I intended to do-under a pillow, and not come out until I got a written apology-in triplicate.”

“Look, Max! The clean-shaven scientist! He’s laughing! You’ll like him!”

Max stared at her icily. “99, a secret agent can’t pick and choose. A secret agent has to go anywhere, and meet anybody, and like it. A secret agent can’t afford to have feelings.”

“All right, Max.”

Slowly, inconspicuously, Max, 99 and Fang made their way toward the clean-shaven scientist, who was in conversation with another of the bearded scientists.

When they neared them, the clean-shaven scientist extended a hand to Max, smiling jovially. “Hello there,” he said. “I saw you slowly making your way in this direction. I’m Herbert Wai-pronounced ‘Y’.”

“Mr. ‘Y’?” Max said, taken aback for a moment.

“Yes, ‘Y’-as in ‘Yellow young yoga in Yankeeland’.”

Max’s eyes narrowed. “Or as in ‘X’?”

“I don’t follow you,” Mr. Wai replied.

“No, but ‘Y’ does follow ‘X’-which strikes me as being somewhat suspicious.”

“On the other hand,” Mr. Wai smiled, “ ‘X’ is also followed by ‘Z’.”

Max’s jaw fell. “Yes, I guess that clears you, all right,” he said. “Apparently, it’s all in the way you look at it. I’m sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

“It could happen to anybody,” Mr. Wai assured Max. The smile spread out over his face again. “I don’t believe I caught your name,” he said.

Max introduced himself and 99 and Fang. “Are you a scientist, too?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” Mr. Wai replied. “Didn’t you notice-I’m clean-shaven. Scientists have beards. No, I’m the tour director. I’m escorting all you scientists to Europe to see the laboratories.” He suddenly frowned. “If you’re one of our scientists,” he said, “how is it that you’re clean-shaven, too?”

“Oh… yes. Well, there’s an explanation for that,” Max replied. “You see, I’m… ah… ah…”

“Rorff!”

“Yes, that’s it!” Max brightened. “I’m traveling incognito.”

Mr. Wai peered at him puzzledly. “You’re traveling as a mushroom?”

“Fang!” Max snapped at K-13.

“Rorff!”

“Oh, that’s what it means!” Max said, relieved. He turned back to Mr. Wai. “No, you see, incognito means that I’m concealing my true identity.”

“Well, maybe so,” Mr. Wai said doubtfully. “But I don’t think it’s working. I’d never take you for a mushroom.”

“Would you take me for a space scientist?” Max suggested.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s settle for that,” Max said.

“Fine, fine,” Mr. Wai nodded. “And, how are you enjoying the tour-so far?”

“Well, frankly, I’ve had better times at automobile accidents,” Max said. “I find that my colleagues are severely lacking in an appreciation of the finer degrees of humor.”

“I agree,” Mr. Wai said. “A bunch of point-killers if I ever saw a bunch of point-killers.” He suddenly grinned. “But, say, I did hear a good one today. As a space scientist, you might enjoy it. It seems that a bunch of these space scientists were sitting around the launching pad, discussing what animal they ought to send to the moon, and one of these space scientists said-”

“Cheese and quackers,” Max broke in.

“Oh. You’ve heard it.”

“Yes, I’ve heard it,” Max said. “But, have you heard the one about Orville and Wilbur Wright?”

“Hand me that socket wrench?” Mr. Wai replied.

“That’s it,” Max nodded.

Mr. Wai extended a hand again. “Well, I have to mingle with the other scientists,” he said. “But it’s been fun.”

“Yes, we’ll have to get together and trade punchlines again,” Max said.

Mr. Wai ambled off.

“Max,” 99 said, “I’m not so sure about him.”

“Innocent as a new-born-babe,” Max said.

“I don’t know-his name, Mr. ‘Y’. That’s awfully close to Dr. X.”

“Mr. Wai couldn’t possibly be a scientist,” Max said. “With a highly developed sense of humor like that? Impossible.”

“All right, Max. If you say so. Shall we mingle some more?”

Max shook his head. “No. We’re getting nowhere here. We’ve checked out the only clean-shaven man at the party, and found that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he isn’t Dr. X. So, the only conclusion I can reach is that Dr. X is not present. I think it’s time to change tactics again, 99.”

“What now, Max?”

“Let’s step outside where we can have some privacy,” Max said. “We don’t want to be overheard.”