William Johnston: Get Smart!

“Hadn’t we better get to shore?” Blossom said.

“Good thinking,” Max said approvingly. “I wish I’d had you with me in the summer of ’61. I spent a whole night in the East River. I was finally picked up by a garbage scow. At least, that’s what I thought it was. Later, I discovered that it was a motor launch that was being used by a FLAG agent to smuggle orange ping-pong… but that’s another story. Let’s get ashore.”

Max and Blossom clung to Fang’s tail and he towed them to land. On shore, Max and Blossom shook themselves violently, flinging water, drying themselves, as Fang watched disinterestedly.

“Is that Noel ever going to feel like a fool when we tell her where that door led to,” Max said. “She was so positive it was a private office.”

“You know-” Blossom began.

“I guess this will teach her a lesson,” Max continued. “From now on, she’ll double-check before she sounds off about how much she knows about languages. ‘DANGER’ probably means ‘This way to the East River’ or something like that.” He smiled. “Well, it’s a good laugh on her.”

“I don’t entirely trust her,” Blossom said. “Could she be a FLAG agent?”

“Hardly,” Max replied. “She didn’t ring a bell with me.”

“Rorff!”

“All right, all right, we’re coming,” Max said. “Don’t be a nag. Nobody likes a nag, Fang!”

They made their way back to the entrance of the U.N. Building. When they reached the lobby, Max looked around, then said, puzzledly, “Funny… no Noel. Maybe she’s on her coffee break.”

“There’s something,” Blossom said, pointing. “She said Fred had become a new member. Maybe he’s listed on the board.”

Max peered toward the large board, where a young man was posting the names of new countries. “It’s worth a try,” he said.

They approached the young man, and watched as he worked.

He put up ‘Malawesia.’

“Could that be Fred in the universal language?” Max said to Blossom.

“How would I know? I thought D-a-n-g-e-r spelled Danger.”

The young man put up ‘Fredonia.’

“Hmmmmm,” Max mused. Then, “No… too easy.”

Up went ‘Carpetbagia.’

Max turned again to Blossom. “Fred isn’t by any chance from out of town, is he?” he said.

“Oh, no. I put him together in my little apartment. It isn’t far from here-if you’d like to drop by for a cup of coffee… or something.”

The young man put up ‘Zamporangowatsiabunalumpornaland.”

Max tapped him on the shoulder. “I wonder if, by any chance, you might have a ‘Fred’ in there?” he said, indicating the box from which the young man was taking the names.

“How do you spell it?” the young man asked.

“Rorff!” Fang barked.

“Don’t listen to him,” Max said. “It starts with an ‘F,’ not ‘Ph.’ ”

The young man sorted through the names in the box. He shook his head. “Not here.”

“I thought that was too easy,” Max said.

“Let’s try Fredonia,” Blossom suggested.

“Too obvious,” Max said. “I’ll put my money on Zamporangowatsiabunalumpornaland. That’s the sort of thing a computer would think up.” To the young man, he said, “Where exactly would we find Zamporangowatsiabunalumpornaland?”

“Forty degrees longitude, eighty degrees latitude,” the young man replied.

“When I said where would we find Zamporangowatsiabunalumpornaland, I meant where would we find the representative of Zamporangowatsi.. you get the idea.”

“Oh. Second floor, turn left,” the young man answered.

“Forward!” Max said, striking out toward the elevators.

“Rorph!” Fang barked.

“ ‘F!’ ” Max snapped back over his shoulder at him.

A few seconds later, Max, Blossom and Fang reached the second floor. They turned left, and soon came to an exceptionlly wide door with ZAMPORANGOWATSIABUNALUMPORNALAND stenciled on it in gold lettering.

Max put his ear to the door, listening. “There’s something going on in there!” he said.

“How do you know?” Blossom whispered.

“I hear voices!”

Blossom frowned. “What’s so sinister about that? It’s an office, and there are usually people in an office, and people talk. So what’s so strange about that?”

“They’re talking in code,” Max said, his ear still at the door.

“Oh.” Blossom pressed her own ear to the door. She listened a second, then said, “I don’t see how you can tell-I can’t understand a word they’re saying.”

“Of course not-it’s Zamporangowatsiabunalumpornaland code.”

“Well, if it’s Zamporangamacallit, how do you know it’s-”

“We’re going to have to break in,” Max said crisply, straightening. “Every second counts. All that talk… they must have Fred in there grilling him. Wringing the entire knowledge of Western Man out of him. There’s not a minute to lose. Stand back!”

“But, Max-”

“I think you’d better call me ‘86’ on formal occasions like this when I’m breaking in,” Max said.

“All I’m trying to say is, you haven’t even tried the door. Maybe it’s open.”

Max smirked. “You may be a hotshot inventor, but it’s obvious you don’t know the first thing about espionage. Those people in there have been clever enough to lure Fred-the world’s greatest repository of human knowledge-into their trap. Now, does it stand to reason that they would be stupid enough to leave the door unlocked?”

“Well…”

“If I walked up to that door,” Max went on, “and turned the knob-like this…” He turned the knob, and the door creeped open a crack. Max leaped back, startled. “Watch it! It’s a trick!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Blossom pushed the door open, then peered into the office.

There were a number of people, mostly young men, in conversation at a small reception desk. They glanced up, and their conversation halted, as the door opened.

“Prudosier?” smiled the girl at the desk, the receptionist.

Max pushed Blossom aside and sprang into the office, pulling his pistol. Fang, meanwhile, crouched in the corridor, whining.

“All right-the game’s up!” Max barked. “Where’s Fred?”

One of the young men replied. “Awunda yonbaro aqua pistola.”

“Knock off the code!” Max snapped. “Just tell me where Fred is, and I’ll see that the judge goes easy on you.”

The girl, still smiling, said, “He is not speaking Code, he is speaking Zamporangamacallit. I am the only one here who speaks English.”

“Yeah?” Max said suspiciously. “All right, then, what did he say?”

“He said that there is water dripping from your pistol.”

“Oh.” Max looked down at his gun. A trickle of river water was dripping from the barrel. “Yeah, well, it’s a water pistol,” he said, thinking fast. “Now, enough of that… where is Fred?”

“Huboni drosti ust Bigelow ” said one of the young men.

“What’s that?” Max growled at the receptionist.

“He says your pistol is dripping on the carpet.”

“Sorry.” Max holstered his gun. Then he called out, “Fang! Come in here!”

A canine nose appeared in the doorway.

“All the way in!”

Tail between his hind legs, head lowered, Fang came crawling in.

“Search the premises,” Max ordered.

“Rorff!”

“Never mind that! That date isn’t until tonight. You’ll have plenty of time to get your hair combed. Stop acting like a scared pup, and search this office!”

Fang went crawling off, nosing into an adjoining room.

“Excuse me,” said the receptionist, “what are you looking for?”

“As if you didn’t know! But, just in case you don’t know, we’re looking for Fred. He’s a computer. Built in the form of a robot. His eyes revolve, and he has a lever at his side, and he goes ‘peep-a-dotta, poop-a-dotta, dippa-dotta-boop!’ ”