William Johnston: Sorry, Chief…

Max: Right now, Chief, we’re going to mess.

Chief: Mess, Max?

Max: That’s what meals are called on board ship, Chief.

Chief: Why is that?

Max: If you’d been here in my stateroom a few minutes ago, you wouldn’t have to ask. But, I suppose it’s because the ship’s crew is an untidy lot, and they mess around a lot at meals.

Operator (breaking in): Your three minutes are up. Deposit another seventy-six dollars and twenty-five cents, please.

Chief: Operator, this isn’t a pay phone. The charge goes on our regular bill.

Operator: Pardon my impudence, sir, but that’s what they all say.

Chief: Max-I don’t have that kind of change handy, so I guess we’ll have to ring off now. But keep in touch.

Max: So long, Chief.

Operator: So long from me, too, Chief. And so long to you, Maxine.

The line went dead.

Max, 99 and Fang dined in the main dining room, then went out on the deck to wait for night to fall, at which time they intended to begin searching the scientists’ staterooms.

As they stood at the rail, the sound of soft music floated in the air, wafted by a cooling, caressing, sea-scented breeze.

99 sighed dreamily. “Somewhere, Max, they’re dancing,” she murmured romantically.

“I hope so,” Max replied. “It would be a shame to waste that music.”

“Max-look. The stars are peeping through the clouds.”

“Technically, that isn’t correct, 99,” Max said. “Those stars are just sitting there, and the clouds are passing in front of them. Stars don’t peep. They’re not interested in that sort of thing.”

“Max, do you have to be so literal!”

“I’m not so literal,” Max replied gruffly. “I’m five-foot-eleven. There are a lot of guys that are literal than that.”

“Rorff!”

“Fang is right,” Max said. “I just look literal to you because you’re a tall girl.”

“What I mean is, Max, don’t you ever have any romantic thoughts? Look-the stars are out, the moon is a yellow gondola in the sky, the-”

“99,” Max broke in, “if you think the moon looks like a gondola, you’ve got a lot of gondola research to do.”

“Max, I was speaking poetically. The stars… the moon… the night… doesn’t that mean something to you?”

“99, you’re right. I’ve been a blind fool. Now, I understand what you’ve been trying to tell me. It’s night-time to start searching those staterooms. Come on!”

99 groaned-then obediently trotted after Max and Fang, who were striding down the deck.

“We’re going to do this alphabetically-from Z to A,” Max said when 99 caught up.

“Isn’t alphabetically the other way around, from A to Z?” 99 said.

“Not if you’re in a hurry, and you’re looking for a Dr. X,” Max replied.

They entered a corridor that was lined with the doors to staterooms. Max, leading the way, began checking the numbers on the doors.

“Whose stateroom are we looking for, Max?” 99 asked.

“The stateroom of a Dr. Zee,” Max replied. “Dr. Ludwig Zee.”

“Zee,” 99 mused. “Dr. Zee… that is suspicious, isn’t it, Max?”

Max halted. “How’s that?”

“Well… Dr. Zee… Dr. X… they’re so close together. You know, X, Y, Z.”

“Oh, is that how it goes? I thought it was ‘I’ before ‘E’, except after ‘C’, and, on rare occasions, ‘W’ and ‘Y’ ”

“That’s something else, Max, I’m talking about the alphabet-the way it ends. It ends with X, Y, Z.”

Max shook his head. “Sorry, 99. Good try, but it just doesn’t have it. You see, in this case, we’re working from Z to A. Consequently, the alphabet ends not in X, Y, Z, but in C, B, A. Nevertheless, as I said, good try. Keep thinking.”

“Yes, Max.”

They moved on-then Max halted again. “This is it,” he said.

He looked up and down the corridor.

“All clear,” 99 whispered.

Max tried the door. “Locked,” he announced.

“That’s not surprising,” 99 said.

“No, and not unexpected, either,” Max replied. “Fortunately, I’m prepared. R and D sent along a gadget that-it claims-is guaranteed to unlock any locked door. This looks to me like an excellent opportunity to experience-test it.” He reached into a pocket and extracted a tiny, penny-sized gadget, then read from the tag that was attached to it. “ ‘Turn Indicator to ON, place in Keyhole, Then Run Like the Devil!’ ”

“It must be an explosive,” 99 said.

Max scowled. “I’m not sure I can get this tag in that keyhole,” he said.

“Max, I think it means to put the gadget in the keyhole-not the tag.”

“Oh… yes. I wish R and D would be more explicit about these things.” He tore the tag from the gadget, then set the indicator on ON, and pushed the gadget into the keyhole.

“Now, then, to see what develops,” he said.

“Max, aren’t we supposed to run like the Devil?”

“See what I mean? Why can’t R and D be more explicit? I, for one, haven’t the faintest idea how a Devil runs. Is a Devil a slow runner, or a fast-”

The question was suddenly cut short by a thunderous explosion. There was a flash of flame, then black, roiling smoke filled the corridor.

“Well, I guess that answers that,” Max said, choking.

They fanned the smoke away-and found the stateroom door at their feet. They also found themselves joined by a number of other passengers.

“Don’t panic,” Max said to them. “Nothing to get excited about. We’re the ship’s carpenters-doing a little repair work. This, uh, door was stuck.”

The other passengers seemed satisfied. They returned to their staterooms.

“That was close,” Max said.

“You handled it beautifully, Max,” 99 complimented him.

“Yes, I thought so. The secret is to keep your wits about you and present a logical, wholly believable explanation. It works every time.” He gestured toward the open doorway. “After you, 99… Fang.”

The two entered, then Max raised the door and leaned it in place in front of the opening.

“Now, then…” he said, pleased.

“Max…” 99 called from inside the stateroom, “… you closed yourself outside. You’re in the corridor.”

Max looked around. “I thought this was an odd shape for a stateroom-long and narrow,” he said. “And very poorly furnished, too.”

He lifted the door aside, entered the stateroom, then put the door back in place.

“Now, then…” he said again.

“Max, it’s dark in here.”

“Exactly why I brought along the ultra-violet flashlight, 99. Here it is. I’ll just turn on the beam, and…”

“Max, it’s still dark.”

“That’s because the ultra-violet beam cannot be seen by the naked eye, 99. And, you and I and Fang, being only human, are equipped with naked eyes.”

“But, Max, what good is it if we can’t see the beam? There isn’t any light.”

“Yes, I better make a note of that for R and D,” Max said. “99, will you flip on the light switch, please. I can’t write in the dark.”

“Yes, Max.”

Light flooded the room.

“That’s better,” Max said, making the note to pass on to R and D.

“Where shall we start searching, Max?” 99 asked.

“The suitcases,” Max replied. “That’s what we’re looking for, remember? A suitcase containing six invisible guinea pigs. Not three, not four, not five, but six invisible guinea pigs. However, if you do find a suitcase with five invisible guinea pigs in it, you better let me know. It’s just possible that one of the little beggars might have escaped.”

“It will be difficult to know,” 99 said. “Since it would be invisible.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Max said. “To make those difficult decisions for you. All right, 99, let’s start the search.”