William Johnston: Sorry, Chief…

“Max, no one is paying any attention to us.”

“That’s another reason for getting out of here,” Max said, leading the way toward the exit.

Max, 99 and Fang went out on deck and stood by the rail.

“I think we’re safe here,” Max said. A sea gull swooped by. “Unless that sea gull is bugged,” he added. “But we’ll just have to take that chance.”

“What do you have in mind, Max?” 99 said.

“In a nutshell, this,” Max said. “Now, we know that the diabolical Dr. X is traveling with a suitcase of six invisible guinea pigs-right? Right. And, it stands to reason that the suitcase is in Dr. X’s stateroom-right? Right. So, the next logical step, it seems to me, would be to search the staterooms of each and every one of the scientists on board until we find the suitcase full of invisible guinea pigs.”

“Max-that’s brilliant!”

“Simple logic,” Max said modestly.

“That means that we’ll need a list of the staterooms that have been assigned to scientists,” 99 said.

“Right. Now, armed with this list-”

“Where will we get the list, Max?”

“From the officer in charge of lists, of course. Where else?”

“I’d like to see that. Max.”

“You will, 99. Because that is your assignment.”

“Why me, Max?”

“Because, in this instance, I think your femininity will be more effective than my intellectuality. You know how sailors are. There’s something about being at sea that makes them especially susceptible to the lures of romance. Though, for the life of me, I can’t fathom what it could be.”

“Salt air, maybe,” 99 suggested.

“Rorff!” Fang barked.

Max glared at him. “It couldn’t be that,” he said. “And I think it’s ungentlemanly of you even to suggest it.”

“All right, Max,” 99 said, “what do I do after I get the list?”

“Try to shake the sailor,” Max said. “Then come to my stateroom. Fang and I will be there. I want to inspect that attache case of gadgets that the Chief gave us. There might be a gadget in there that we can use to help us search the scientists’ staterooms.”

99 saluted. “See you later, Max.”

“Don’t make it too much later,” Max said. “Fang may be right about what makes sailors that way.”

When 99 had gone, Max turned to Fang. “Time to hit that long, long trail-back to C Deck, boy,” he said. “Are you up to it?”

“Rorff!”

“Yes, I guess ‘down to it’ is closer to the mark.”

“Rorff!”

“No, Fang, I will not go down and get the attache case and bring it up here.”

“Rorff!”

“Go on. See what good it does you. J. Edgar Hoover is just as good a friend of mine as he is of yours. ”

Fang capitulated. And they began the long trek downward to C Deck.

When they reached the stateroom, they both squeezed in.

“Just watch your elbows,” Max said gruffly.

“Rorff!”

“All right, then, whatever it is that you have that passes for elbows.”

Max opened the attache case on the lower bunk and peered thoughtfully at the contents. “Let’s see, we’ll do our searching at night, when it’s dark,” he said, “so this ultra-violet flashlight, which throws a beam that can’t be seen by the naked eye, will come in handy. We can search the staterooms without having to worry about our beam being seen from outside. Clever of Research and Development to come up with that.”

“Rorff!”

Max picked up another of the gadgets. “Oh, this? Well, let’s see. I’ll read what it says here on the tag. ‘Full Field Pack, Including Food Rations to Sustain a Party of Six Over a Period of Two Weeks (if lunches are skipped). Also Including Battery-Operated Electric Stove and Oven, Three Sauce Pans, One Roaster Pan, Two Skillets and a Meat Thermometer.’ ”

“Rorff!”

“Yes, that is amazing,” Max said, holding up the gadget. “Imagine getting all that into a capsule the size of this. Why, it’s not much bigger than a tube of lipstick.”

“Rorff!”

Max scowled. “That’s possible. Maybe they did attach the wrong label to it.”

“Rorff!”

“That’s even more possible,” Max admitted. “Maybe it is a tube of 99’s lipstick. I think I better check it out. I’ll just pull the top off and-”

There was a sudden WHOOSH! The capsule exploded, and large, small and medium-sized objects filled the air, then settled down on Max and Fang, burying them.

They clawed their way to the surface.

“Fang! Are you all right!”

“rurff.”

“Oh, there you are. Take your head out of the oven.”

Max struggled to his feet, then, disgusted, stared down at the rubble of food containers and cooking utensils. “Look at that!” he said. “Fourteen boxes of instant oatmeal! Is that what they call food rations! I wouldn’t feed that gunk to a dog!”

“Rorff!”

“Sorry, Fang. I didn’t mean that personally.” He groaned. “Well, let’s get this stateroom straightened up. Shove everything under the bunk.”

When the rubble had been cleared away, Max and Fang turned their attentions to the attache case of gadgets once more.

Max plucked an item from the case that looked like a nozzle for a hose. “What do you suppose this is?” he said, curious.

“Rorff!”

“I know what it looks like. But it can’t be that. The thing about these gadgets is, they’re designed to look like something harmless to disguise the fact that, actually, they’re lethal weapons. Now then, let’s read this tag and see what this instrument really is.” He read-silently. “Hmmmmmmm,” he said, finally, “a nozzle, eh?”

“Rorff!”

“Fang, nobody likes an ‘I-told-you-so.’ ” He peered into the business end of the nozzle. “Very interesting. But highly impractical. What good is a nozzle without a hose? And, more to the point, what good is a nozzle without a hose that’s attached to a water hydrant? No, I’m afraid I’ll have to give Research and Development a thumbs down on this one.”

At that moment, 99 put her head in the doorway.

“Hi, Max. I’m back.”

“Welcome home,” Max said. “Did you get the list?”

“Oh, yes. I found the list officer and asked him for the list, but he said that lists were restricted, he couldn’t give any lists out to anybody who wasn’t authorized personnel.”

“That’s the usual story,” Max said. “What did you do?”

“I said, ‘All right, don’t give me the list, but may I have a copy of it?’ So that was okay, he gave me a carbon of the list. He said there wasn’t any rule about who could get copies.”

“Good, good. I’d ask you to bring the list in, 99, but there just isn’t room. So, do this. Make a paper airplane out of it and sail it over to me, will you?”

“All right, Max.”

99 began folding the list into the shape of a paper airplane, but then she stopped and looked at Max puzzledly.

“Max,” she said, “why are you standing there holding a nozzle?”

“Oh. This is one of the gadgets that Research and Development sent along in the attache case,” Max explained. He smiled. “Looks like a nozzle, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. What is it really?”

“It’s a nozzle.”

99 giggled. “Max, you’re kidding.”

“No. No, I’m not. It’s really a nozzle.”

“Let’s see. Squirt some water.”

Max looked pained. “99, you can’t squirt water out of a nozzle that doesn’t have a hose attached to it. That’s elementary logic.”

“Max, R and D wouldn’t have sent it if it didn’t work. Turn it on.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Try it, Max.”

“I’d feel like a silly-Billy.”

“Oh, go on, Max. It won’t hurt.”