“I think she’s gone,” Blossom said.
“We’ll see about that!”
Max aimed the pistol at the lock and fired. There was a shattering of metal and wood. The door creaked open.
Max stepped out.
Noel was nowhere in sight.
“Fantastic!” Max said. “She eluded the trap! I would have bet my last Indian head penny that…” He shrugged resignedly. “Well, that just proves it. The best made plans of mice and men, eh?”
Blossom came out of the inner office. “At least, we saved Fred,” she said.
“Right! Mission accomplished. Now, it’s a simple matter of taking him to Control and turning him over to the authorities.” He beckoned to Fred. “Come along, fella. It’s clear sailing from here on out.”
Fred joined them, clanking. And they made their way from the office of Fredonia toward the elevators.
4
There were two men aboard the elevator when the door opened. They were in long coats and striped trousers, dignified-looking gentlemen.
Max stopped Blossom and Fang as they started to board the car. “Just a minute,” he said. “Let me interrogate these passengers first. I don’t intend to step into a nest of FLAG agents.” To the gray-haired, older of the two men, he said, “Name, rank and serial number, please. And I want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Remember-it’s a sin to tell a lie!”
The older gentleman looked him up and down stonily. “I’m Lord Alcorn-if that’s your question, sir,” he said. “Now, will you please either step inside or get your foot out of the door?”
“Lord Alcorn, eh? Answer me this: Where were you at seven-thirty P.M. during the summer of ’61?”
“London-if you must know.”
“A-ha! And, in London, were you, by any chance, playing ping-pong?”
The older turned to the younger. “By George, I think I’ve got it!” he said. “We’re on Candid Camera!”
The younger nodded drearily. “I can’t think of any other possible explanation.”
Max smiled, pleased. “It’s all right,” he said to Blossom and Fred. “These two are Americans. Did you catch the reference to a well-known American television program? It’s those little slips-of-the-tongue that tip the scales.” He made a sweeping arm motion. “All aboard!”
When they were all inside the car, Max punched the main floor button. The door closed and the car began to descend.
Instantly, the two men whipped off their long coats, revealing that they were wearing black leather jackets underneath.
The older man spoke again-as he pulled a large pistol from his jacket and pointed it at Max. “Okay, Jack, grab fer da sky!” he snarled. “Dis is a heist!”
Fang sprang into action. He leaped into a corner and covered his head.
“Gentlemen,” Max said, “I like your act. But I’m afraid it’s a waste of time if you’re auditioning. This is not Candid Camera!”
“Stow da gab, Mac!” the younger man said. “We’re here to put da snatch on dis tin can ya got widja.”
“He means Fred!” Blossom gasped.
“Dat’s right!” said the older man. “We’re gettin’ paid a pretty penny fer puttin’ da pinch on dis prefab putt- putt.”
“Yes,” Max retorted challengingly, “and Peter Piper thought he could pick a peck of pickled peppers, too-but he didn’t get away with it!”
“Pooey!” said the younger man petulantly.
“No, not pooey-punch!” Max snapped back.
“Pardon?” said the older man, puzzledly.
“Punch!” Max repeated.
At that same moment, the elevator door slid open.
“All out-main floor!” Max called.
The two men stepped out. “Follow us,” said the elder.
But, instead, Max punched another button on the control panel. The door glided closed. And the car began to descend again.
“How did you do that?” Blossom asked.
“Simple,” Max smiled. “As I told that elderly gentleman, I punched. I punched the button for the fifth floor with my shoulder blade. As you can see, I’m backed up against the panel. And now,” he said, “we’re on our way to the main floor-all according to plan.”
“Perfect!” Blossom giggled.
Max shrugged modestly. “Possibly,” he said. “Who am I to say?”
“Rorff!” barked Fang, emerging from the corner.
Max laughed. “Very good,” he said.
“What did he say?” Blossom asked.
“I wouldn’t dare repeat it,” Max said. “It was a pun.”
The car stopped at the main floor. Max, Blossom, Fang and Fred stepped out and headed across the lobby.
“Well, it’s clear sailing from here on out,” Max said to Fred. “It’s only a half-hour or so walk from here to the car. Then a five minute drive to Control. After that, you won’t have a worry in the world.”
Fred activated himself. “Computer who think he safe in his own house better take another look under the bed,” he said in his far-away voice.
Max squinted at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“With my brains,” Fred replied, “I know better than to think there’s any where that’s safe.”
“Your fears are groundless,” Max said. “I give you my word.”
“Man gives his word only when he has nothing of value to offer,” Fred intoned.
“Will you stop talking Hollywood Chinese,” Max said. “If you’ve got something on your mind, speak up, tell us what it is.”
“I want to be free,” Fred said.
“And that’s exactly what you’ll be,” Max said. “We’ll lock you up in a cell somewhere, underground, where those Bad Guys can’t get at you, and you’ll be free to work your transistors off, night and day, thinking up new ways to help us Good Guys work out a happy ending to this mess the world’s in. I don’t know what more a computer could ask for-frankly.”
“I’ll be the object of greed, treachery, duplicity-”
“Look, Fred, every job has its drawbacks. On the other hand, you’ll also be the object of admiration, worship, applause. You’ll be getting medals handed out to you right and left. You’ll be a celebrity-within the confines of your own little cell, of course.”
“I don’t want to be a celebrity,” Fred said. “I want to live a simple life. Come and go as I please. Sleep late if I want to. Not shave for a week if I don’t want to. Not-”
“Fred,” Max broke in, “you don’t have a beard, you couldn’t shave if you wanted to.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Fred explained.
“Oh… yeah.”
They left the U.N. Building and walked up the street in the direction of the car.
“Maybe we’d better get a cab,” Blossom suggested. “It’s a long walk to your car.”
Max shook his head. “The car will be safer. There’s not a cab in the city that has a cannon under its left front headlight.”
So they walked on.
“Look, Fred,” Max said, “I sympathize with you. But if we let you go free-as you euphemistically put it-you
