As soon as 99 had had breakfast that morning, she strolled out to where the horse and cow were standing, grazing, assuming that Max and Hymie would make contact with her there. But morning passed and they did not appear. 99 took a half-hour off for lunch, then returned to the corral. She noticed now that all of the hired hands were clean-shaven. That started her wondering. Was it possible that Max and Hymie, obeying their bedside computers, had taken off their false mustaches? If so, they might have been recognized. They might now, in fact, be in the clutches of Ways and Means!
Beginning to worry, 99 strolled to the pool, mingled with the other guests, and began asking sly questions.
“Well. . any clues to anything?” she inquired of a middle-aged man, settling down beside him in the next deck chair.
“My dear, clues to anything you might choose,” he beamed. “Nothing is impossible in this place. First vacation I’ve enjoyed in years. I’m thinking of moving my office out here.”
“Business and pleasure don’t mix,” 99 reminded him.
“I’ve always enjoyed working,” the man said. “And now I enjoy vacationing. So, it’ll be mixing pleasure with pleasure.”
“But won’t it get boring, enjoying yourself all the time?” 99 asked.
“No, no, no. There’s always something new and interesting going on here at the Leg Up. Why, only this morning, several gentlemen jumped into the pool fully clothed, turned the rim on that drain at the bottom, then disappeared through a secret opening in the side of the pool. You don’t see much of that back home in Milford, Connecticut.”
“Oh?”
“No. You have to drive all the way to Bridgeport. It gets pretty wild in Bridgeport sometimes.”
99 leaned a little forward, lowering her voice. “These men who jumped into the pool-were they clean-shaven?” she asked.
“All but two of them,” the man replied.
“Could you describe them?”
“Had handlebar mustaches.”
“Was there anything else about them that you noticed?” 99 asked.
“Well. . one of them wasn’t as dumb-looking as the other.”
99 smiled. “Thank you.”
She got up, dived into the pool fully clothed, turned the rim on the drain, then disappeared through a secret opening.
“Same old stuff,” the man grumbled. “Who was it said there’s always something new and interesting going on here?”
Finding herself in a corridor, 99 sized up the situation, then proceeded toward the closed door at the far end of the corridor. Approaching a nozzle that was protruding from the wall, she identified it as a mind-destroying laser beam, and ducked under it. A moment later, she came to a second nozzle. Chalked over it, she saw the words: Out of Order. Recognizing the nozzle as a napalm spray, 99 knew that there would be no point to putting an Out of Order sign on it if it were really out of order, so the sign was probably a trick. She ducked under the spray and proceeded. The sign over the trapdoor did not fool her either. She soon reached the closed door at the end of the corridor.
Opening the door, 99 spotted Ways and Means, with their backs to her, feeding information into a machine that looked a great deal like a refrigerator that had broken out in a rash of gauges, buttons, dials and levers, and which, consequently, she assumed must be Number One. Ways and Means appeared to be quite perturbed. As a result, they did not see her as she slipped quietly across the laboratory toward one of the side doors. Nor did they notice when she passed through the doorway and entered the smaller corridor that led to the cells.
A few seconds later, 99 came upon the guard who was doing sentry duty near the cell which held Max and Hymie. She immediately dropped the man with one quick, sharp karate blow, then, as he fell, hurried to the bars of the cell.
“Max! Hymie! Are you all right?” 99 called.
“We’re fine, 99.”
“What are you doing under that bunk?”
“It’s sort of a game,” Max replied, as he and Hymie crawled out. “It’s called ‘When you see a good friend creep up on a guard and drop him with a karate blow and let him fall and he’s just swallowed an explosive that could blow up a body of water the size of Lake Ontario, duck under anything, even a bunk or a small metal spoon.’ ”
“Gee. . I like the title,” 99 said. “But, how is it played?”
“Very carefully, without disturbing the body,” Max replied.
“99,” Hymie said, “get the keys from the guard and let us out.”
“But, 99-” Max warned, “-don’t disturb the body!”
99 returned to where the guard had fallen, rolled his body over-very carefully-then unhooked the ring of keys from his belt.
“I wonder which is which?” 99 said, returning to the cell and examining the keys.
“The key for the cell will fit the lock in the cell door,” Max explained. “That’s the way you tell.”
“I know, Max. I- Here it is!”
99 turned the key in the lock, then opened the cell door. Max and Hymie slipped out, then the three moved toward the doorway that led to the laboratory. But suddenly Max halted them.
“Somebody’s coming!”
“I heard it, too, Max,” 99 said.
“Anybody have a weapon?” Max asked.
There was no reply.
“Then we’ll have to hide,” Max decided. “That’s probably Means and Ways and the whole army of guards coming this way. If they catch us, they’ll toss us all into that cell. And then 99 won’t be free to rescue us again.”
“Max! Where can we hide?”
“Follow me!”
Max turned and retreated along the corridor, and 99 and Hymie followed close behind. Max suddenly made a sharp right turn-and Hymie and 99 tagged after him.
“They’ll never find us in here,” Max crowed.
“Max, we’re-”
There was a clanging sound.
“That was probably the guard shutting that cell door we left open,” Max gloated.
“It was, Max,” Hymie assured him. He pointed. “If you’ll look, you can see him.”
Max looked, then broke into a broad grin. “Talk about stupid,” he said. “Look-that guard has locked himself into his own cell.”
“Max-”
“Of all the dumb tricks!” Max went on. “I knew he couldn’t be very bright when he swallowed that explosive, thinking it was an aspirin. But this takes the prize.”
“Max,” 99 said, “it isn’t the guard who’s locked in the cell.”
“What do you mean, 99? I can see it for myself. There he is, standing there with his hands gripping the bars. Look at that happy look on his face. That’s the look of a man who- Oh. Yes, I see what you mean, 99.”
“This wasn’t the best place to hide, Max,” Hymie said. “We’re right back in the cell where we started.”
“Matters aren’t quite as bad as they were,” Max insisted. “99 is with us now. It’s always better to have feminine company. I don’t know why. But things seem to work out that way.”
“Hey, wait a minute!” the guard said. “I had two prisoners before. Now there’re three. Who doesn’t belong?” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t remember having a girl in there before.”
“Okay-we admit it-we sneaked her in,” Max said. “And we’re willing to take our punishment. If it’s against the rules to have girls in the cells, then kick us all out. We deserve it.”
“It’s not against the rules,” the guard replied. “You can have all the girls in here you want to for all I care.”
“Now. . just-a-minute!” Max said indignantly. “If that’s the kind of jail this is, I want no part of it! I have a reputation to consider. I want out! And, furthermore, I want my money back!”
Cowed, the guard put the key in the lock. “I don’t know about getting your money back,” he said. “You’ll have to talk to the management. All I-”
At that moment, Ways and Means came stomping into the room.
“What’re you doing?” Means asked the guard.
“He wanted out,” the guard explained, indicating Max. “He’s worried about his reputation, what with us allowing girls in the cells and all.”
“Girls in the-”
Ways and Means peered into the cell.
“It’s her!” Ways said. “I’d remember that head anywhere. Once you see a head bobbing around on top of a vat of chocolate, it’s hard to forget it.”
“How did she get in there?” Means asked the guard.
“I have a sore neck, sir,” the guard replied, “so she must have fought her way in.”
Means looked hard at Hymie. “I don’t see it, but you must have something,” he said. “Number One is ga-ga over you, and now you’ve got dames fighting their way in to get to you in jail.”
“Can we assume from that statement,” Max said “that Number One is still reciting love poetry?”
“As fast as she can turn it out,” Ways said. “We feed her hate, and she gives us love. It’s a terrible thing. But we have the solution. We’re going to give her what she wants-the robot.”
“That’s very good thinking,” Max said. “I approve of that.”
“You think when that robot gets in there he’ll brainwash her in the other direction, don’t you?” Ways said.
“Well. . it just may be possible that since she’s ga-ga over him he might have some influence over her,” Max admitted
“Dumb,” Means said.
“Before we turn him over to her, we plan to brainwash him,” Ways explained to Max. “We’ll make him think he’s a KAOS agent. That way, he’ll work with us, not against us.”
“That’s very good thinking,” Max said. “I’m afraid you’ve lost my approval, however.”
“Open the cell door,” Means commanded the guard.
When the door had been opened, Hymie was taken out. Then Ways and Means returned to the laboratory, taking Hymie with them. The guard relocked the door.
“Max, do you really think they can brainwash Hymie?” 99 asked.
“Why not, 99? He’s a machine. If you tell a machine it’s a KAOS agent, it believes it.”
“But it isn’t working on Number One, Max. They haven’t been able to persuade her to give up her love and turn to hate.”
“She must need an overhaul,” Max replied. “If she were functioning correctly, she’d believe anything she was told. I’m positive about that. That’s what makes machines inferior to humans-they believe anything they’re told. I know that because that’s what I’ve been told.”
“Max, what are we going to do?”
“Escape, 99. It’s our duty to break out of here, rescue Hymie and Number One, and destroy this KAOS installation.”
“Good, Max! How?”
“Did you bring any escape devices with you?”
99 shook her head.
“Then we’ll have to rely on our brains,” Max said. 99 went to the cot and slumped down, looking defeated.
“Don’t give up so quickly, 99,” Max said. “Haven’t I thought us out of tighter spots than this?”
“Well, frankly, Max-”
“Nevermind that,” Max broke in. “There’s always a first time for everything, you know. This time, it might work. Now, listen-here’s my first idea. Get up off the cot and let me lie down, and I’ll pretend to be ill. I’ll moan and groan and attract the guard’s attention. When he comes in here to find out what’s the matter with me, you’ll drop him with a karate chop. Okay?”
“Didn’t I see that in a movie, Max?”
“Yes, 99. In an old movie-on television.”
“As I recall-”
“That’s irrelevant, 99. This time, it will work.”
99 got up, and Max stretched out on the cot and began moaning and groaning. After a few moments, the guard appeared at the ceil door.
“You sound like you got the miseries,” the guard said sympathetically.
“And I’m terribly ill, too,” Max replied.
“Shouldn’t you do something?” 99 said to the guard.
“I’m no doctor, ma’am.”
“But shouldn’t you come in and get him and maybe take him to the guest house? There must be a doctor among the guests.”
“He don’t want no doctor,” the guard said. “Don’t you know about doctors, ma’am? They’re a bunch of scalywags, every last one of them. My mom used to say, anybody who goes to a doctor, there’s something wrong with them. The home remedies, they’re the best.” He addressed Max again. “Where does it hurt?” he asked. “Somewhere around the rib section?”
“That’s it!” Max groaned.
“Then you’ve probably got what mom used to call riboflavin,” the guard said. “What’s good for that is fish-eye stew. You get yourself a pot and put in some turnip tops, and the bark of a weeping willow, and a ten-months-old badminton net, then fill it to the brim with rusty rainwater, and let it simmer ’til the badminton net dissolves. You serve it-”
“What about the fish eye?” 99 asked.
“You bury that out in back of the woodshed,” the guard replied.
Max groaned again.
“That don’t sound like riboflavin to me,” the guard said.
“The pain has moved,” Max said.
“Since you know so much about healing,” 99 said to the guard, “maybe you could help him. Why don’t you at least come inside and look at him.”
“Oh, I can see what he’s got all the way from over here,” the guard said. “You’ll notice that he’s lying down and his eyes are closed. That’s a sure sign of the blind staggers. If he got up, he’d fall flat on his face. What’s good for the blind staggers is chicken soup.”
“That sounds good,” Max said. “Why don’t you get some and bring it in?”
“It’d have to be Mom’s recipe,” the guard replied. “And I don’t have any shoe tongue handy.”
Max peered at him. “Shoe tongue? For chicken soup?”
“The way the recipe goes,” the guard said, “you take a tongue out of an old shoe, you put it in a big pot, then you add an old horse blanket-diced, of course-the scrapings off a squirrel carcass, the last leaf of summer, the glue from an old book binding, the want ad section out of the July 4th edition of the Clinton, Illinois, Daily Courier (being sure, naturally, to remove the Personal Ads), four hounds teeth, a pinch of salt, and a gallon of spring cider. You cook it for-”
“Chicken,” Max interrupted.
“Pardon?”
“You forgot the chicken,” Max pointed out.
“Shucks you don’t put chicken in it. That’d spoil it.”
“You don’t put chicken in chicken soup?”
“It’s not for putting chicken in, it’s for feeding to the chickens,” the guard explained. “They’re the ones that get the blind staggers. You’re the first human I ever saw to get it.”
Max sat up. “Nevermind,” he said to the guard.
“Max. . what about you-know-what,” 99 said.
“99, if I he here listening to any more of these recipes, I’ll get sick,” Max explained.
“Glad to do whatever I could do,” the guard said, returning to his post.
“That didn’t work too well, did it, Max?” 99 said.
“It wasn’t perfect,” Max admitted. “But that doesn’t mean that we’re defeated, 99. We’ll just have to try something else. How about the old setting-the-cot-on-fire trick? That always works-more or less-in old movies. Do you have a match, 99?”
“No, Max.”
“Neither do I. Well. . that boots that one, too. Unless we could rub a couple sticks together.”
“No sticks, Max.”
“Ask the guard-maybe he has a couple.”
99 went to the cell door and called to the guard. “I wonder,” she said, “if you might have a couple sticks we could borrow?”
“The last time I loaned a prisoner a couple sticks, he got careless and started a fire,” the guard replied.
“Matches, then?”
“That was the kind of sticks I loaned him,” the guard explained.
“Oh.”
The guard returned to his post, and 99 moved back to where Max was waiting. Max had lit a cigarette.
“Max! How did you do that?”
“It wasn’t easy, 99. Since I had no matches, I had to use my lighter.”
“Ah. . Max. . couldn’t you-”
“Hold it, 99! I think I’ve got an idea.”
Max got out his lighter, strolled over to the bunk, then set fire to the mattress.
“Fire!” 99 cried.
“Take it easy, 99,” Max scolded. “I did that. I told you I planned to set the bunk on fire.”
“I know, Max. I’m trying to attract the attention of the guard.”
“Good idea, 99. I’ll help you. Fire! Fire!”
99 joined in, screaming. “Fire! Fire! Fire!”
The guard came to the door. “You know you got a fire in there?” he said.
“Help! Save us!” 99 wailed.
“Open the door and let us out before we burn to death!” Max urged.
“Shucks, that’s the hard way,” the guard smiled. He walked to the wall, got down the fire hose, pointed it into the cell, then turned on the water. It was only a few seconds before the fire died out.
“I did it that way the last time, too-when that fellow borrowed the two sticks from me,” the guard said.
“Yes. Well, that’s quick-thinking on your part.”
“Funny thing is, he didn’t look any happier about it than you do now,” the guard said, puzzled. “Sometimes I wonder if it really pays to do things for folks.”
“How would you like to try it just once more?” Max asked.
“Well. .”
“You could turn off the water,” Max suggested. “We’d appreciate it, I assure you.”
The guard shut off the water. “How come you’re not smiling?” he asked.
Max and 99 grinned.
“I like to have a happy jail,” the guard said, going back to his post.
“Well, Max?” 99 said gloomily.
“We’ll have to try to bribe him,” Max decided. “What have we got, 99, that’s very valuable?”
“I left everything I had in my room, Max.”
Max dug into his pocket, and came up with a number of tablets. “Mmmmm. . I must have had some of those aspirins left over,” he said. “Maybe I actually gave that guard an aspirin instead of the explosive. And that means that I still have the explosive. Maybe. On the other hand, it could have been the explosive I gave the guard instead of an aspirin.”
“Max. . what are you talking about?”
“It’s not important, 99. Or, to put it another way, it’s so important, I don’t want to talk about it. Anyway, I don’t have anything in my pocket that’s valuable enough to use as a bribe. So, apparently, we’re stuck. I-”
“Yes? What, Max?”
“99, do you suppose that guard would be interested in owning a shoe telephone?”
“Well, it’s a tricky little gadget, Max. If he’s interested in tricky little gadgets- Try it, Max.”
Max went to the door and called the guard over. “Say, fella, I wouldn’t be out of line, would I, if I asked you if you might be susceptible to a bribe?”
“Out of line how?” the guard asked.
“I mean, you wouldn’t take offense, would you?”
“Why do you think I gave you all those recipes instead of getting you a doctor? And why do you think I turned the hose on your fire instead of letting you out of the cell?”
“You mean-”
“Stalling,” the guard said. “I watch the movies on television, too. And the way I had it figured, a bribe had to be next. What’ve you got to offer?”
“Tell me, do you have a lot of headaches?”
“You can keep your aspirin tablets,” the guard replied. “That last one tasted funny.”
“Then how interested are you in gadgets?” Max asked.
“I’m a bug, man. Have you ever seen that gadget where when you turn it on all it does is a hand comes out and turns it off? I’ve got a gadget that does that gadget even one better. You turn it on and nothing happens at all. No hand, no nothing.”
“Say, that’s fascinating,” Max said, impressed. Then he frowned. “But how do you know when it isn’t working?”
“When it’s on the blink, it does things,” the guard explained.
“Oh. Well, anyway, getting back to the subject, how would you like to have a shoe that’s really a telephone?”
The guard looked at him doubtfully. “It’s a shoe and it’s also a telephone? Where do you keep it?”
“On your foot.” Max raised his foot. “See? That’s it right there.”
“It’s black,” the guard said.
“I’m aware of that.”
“Everybody has color phones these days.”
“Yes-but do they wear them on their foot?”
The guard thought for a moment. “That’s a point,” he admitted.
“Would you like to make a test call?” Max asked.
“Well. . I haven’t talked to Mom in a good while.”
Max took off his shoe. He asked the guard for his mother’s number, dialed it, then handed the shoe to the guard.
Mom: Just terrible, now that you ask. I’ve got pains in my back, pains in my shoulders, pains in my legs, and my only son never calls me. Who’s this?
Guard: It’s me, Mom. Guess what I’m calling from?
Mom: You’re probably calling from your shoe. You’ve always been a strange boy. I remember when you used to talk for hours into a soup can. Nobody ever answered, though, did they, boy? Didn’t that learn you? If you’ve taken to talking into a shoe, give it up boy. Nobody’ll answer.
Guard: You sure know how to take the fun off a surprise, Mom.
Mom: Is that why you haven’t called? ’Fraid I’d make fun of you, calling on a shoe? I’ll change, boy. I promise. You call me on your shoe any time you want. I won’t say a word about it. Just to hear your voice, that’s all I want. You call me on your shoe, or your shirt, or your garters or anything you want, boy. Just call me, that’s all.
Guard: You want to know why I don’t call you, Mom?
Mom: Why, boy?
Guard: You’re a nutty old lady.
Mom: Son, you call me a nutty old lady all you want-just so you call me, that’s what’s important.
The guard handed the shoe back to Max. “Not interested,” he said.
“But it’s a fabulous gadget!”
“What’s so fabulous about it? It’s the same as the phone out in the booth. Pick it up, and you get the same nutty old lady.”
“You could dial another number, you know,” Max said.
The guard shook his head. “She’s got me hexed,” he said. “No matter what number I dial, I get the same nutty old lady.” He leaned forward, whispered. “And you know what? She’s not even my mom!”
“She isn’t?”
“I got her one time when I dialed a wrong number. Haven’t been able to shake her.” He pointed to Max’s shoe phone. “You’ll probably never be able to get her off the line,” he said. “When it comes to a hex, she’s dynamite.”
“Nonsense,” Max said.
The guard shrugged and went back to his post.
Max looked at his shoe. He put the receiver to his ear.
Mom: — except a Mother’s Day card, but the least you could do is call me every five or ten minutes or so. I get lonely, boy. Dad won’t talk to me anymore, you know-not since we buried him. He was a good old man, but-
Max put the shoe back on his foot.
“Still on, Max?” 99 asked.
“She’ll get tired when she doesn’t get any answer,” Max said confidently. “Right now, 99, our big problem is to get out of here and rescue Hymie and Number One. Sickness, fire and bribery haven’t helped. So, what next? Isn’t it about time you thought of something?”
“Well, Max, we might call the Chief and have him send reinforcements.”
“That’s a great idea, 99! Why didn’t you mention it before?”
“Well, Max, I don’t have much seniority. It didn’t occur to me that my idea would be worth anything.”
“It’s such a natural,” Max said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”
Max removed his shoe and put the receiver to his ear.
Mom: — on Christmas, but you could have at least telephoned me. I had nobody to talk to but Santy. And he wasn’t saying anything fit to hear. He burned his boots in the fireplace, and you’d think it was the last pair of boots in all creation, the way he carried on. I told him, I said, if you’d brought me a call from my sonny-boy, ’stead of that tinker-toy set, you’d’ve got a warmer welcome. He said it was warm enough as it was. Well, I told-
Max: Lady, would you get off the line, please? I have an important call to make.
Mom: Sonny-boy! I thought you’d hung up on me, as always. What a joy it is to this old heart to hear your voice again. How long has it been? A half-hour? Seems more like forty-five minutes.
Max: Lady, I’ve never talked to you before in my life. I’m not your son. And, according to that other fellow, he’s not your son, either. Wise up, lady. Whether you know it or not, you’ve been disconnected for a long time.
Mom: Insult me! Go on! It’s music to my ears. You don’t have to love me, just talk to me. Call me a nutty old lady, like you always do. I know how happy that makes you. And what’s a mother for? To make her baby-boy happy, that’s what a mother’s for.
Max placed his shoe back on his foot. “Now I know why I didn’t think of it, 99,” he said. “It wasn’t such a hot idea. The line is busy.”