the arm-it’s in the head!”

“Rorff!”

“Fang is right,” Max said. “We can discuss terminology later. Right now, there’s a job to be done.” He approached the front end of the torpedo. “Anybody had any experience with these things? I saw a guy do this in a movie once-but he flubbed it and blew the whole sub to smithereens.”

“That part there-the part that looks like a chocolate cream-I think that’s where the explosive is,” Blossom said. “I think you unscrew it. I saw that in a movie, too.”

“And what happened?” Max said.

She looked suddenly downcast. “I guess it was the same movie,” she said.

“Rorff!”

“Oh, was that it?” Max said.

“What did he say?”

“He said the mistake the guy in the movie made was, he unscrewed it clockwise, when he should have unscrewed it counterclockwise. Fang tried to tell him that during the movie, but the guy wouldn’t listen.”

“Hurry!” Blossom said.

Max began unscrewing the head of the torpedo-counterclockwise. After a few seconds it came loose. Gingerly, he placed it on the floor. “Now then, which part is the explosive?” he said.

“That part that says DANGER?” Blossom suggested.

“Who knows?” Max said. “This is a foreign torpedo-DANGER might mean PRIVATE.”

“Can’t we just leave the whole head off?”

“Somebody would be bound to notice. No, we’ll take a chance and leave out this DANGER part. It stands to reason that even if DANGER means PRIVATE, it’s still the explosive. Nobody wants anybody fooling around with their explosive.”

“Will you hurry!” Blossom said.

“Easy does it. You don’t make a mistake with these things twice.”

Cautiously and carefully, Max removed the section labeled DANGER. Step by wary step he moved away from the torpedo, then dumped the part into a wastebasket.

“I hope nobody drops a lighted cigarette in there,” he said, returning.

“Now, what about us?” Blossom said.

“We’re leaving the sub,” Max said. “Crawl in.”

“In? In where?”

“Into the torpedo,” Max said. “It’s our passage to freedom. When they fire the torpedo, they’ll shoot us out with it.”

“But it looks so cramped!”

“Rorff!”

Max chuckled. “Very good, Fang.”

“What say?”

“He said it’ll be just like riding the subway. Get it? Under water, submarine, subway.”

Blossom groaned. “Ladies first, I suppose,” she said.

“That’s the American way,” Max replied.

Blossom slid into the torpedo, feet first. Fang crawled in next. Then Max followed, and, from inside, replaced the torpedo head.

“I see by my radium dial that it’s close to five-ish,” Max said. “Something should happen soon.”

A few seconds later, they heard voices. They recognized the voice of Captain 49.

“Are we ready to fire, Captain?” asked a seaman.

“Shoot, shoot, I don’t care,” Captain 49 said, sounding sick. “I’ve got a splitting headache.”

The trio inside the torpedo felt it being lifted, then slipped into the tube.

“You-what are you doing there!” they heard the Captain growl.

“Just lighting up, Captain,” another voice said.

“No smoking around a torpedo!” the Captain said. “Throw that cigarette out!”

“Yes, sir. Where’ll I throw it?”

“In the wastebasket, you fool! Am I the only one around here who can do any thinking!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ready to fire, Captain!”

“So shoot, already!”

There was a shattering explosion! The torpedo ripped forward, slicing into the water!

“Well, it’s clear sailing from here on out!” Max said cheerily to his crew.

9

The Torpedo struck the U.N. Building with a thud that knocked the head off. Max’s own head emerged. He looked around, got his bearings, then squinted toward the river. Neither periscope nor submarine could be seen.

Max crawled out and climbed to dry land, followed by Blossom and Fang.

“It’s raining,” Blossom commented.

“It’s hailing,” Max corrected.

“Rorff!”

“By cracky, he’s right,” Max said.

“What say?”

“He says it’s hailing orange ping-pong balls.”

Blossom nodded. “He’s right, all right. How strange.”

“Not so strange,” Max said. “In fact, it explains quite a lot-it explains the whole summer of ’61. I distinctly remember Captain 49 now. He was the FLAG agent who was smuggling those orange ping-pong balls. We thought his purpose was to upset the orange market in Florida. But, all along, this is what he had in mind-a new-fangled submarine.”

“I don’t think I understand,” Blossom said.

“That submarine-that’s what kept it afloat. Its hull was filled with orange ping-pong balls. That’s why it’s hailing ping-pong balls now. Apparently when that seaman dropped his cigarette into the wastebasket, it… well, it’s too gruesome to discuss.”

“Very sad,” a voice agreed.

They turned and found Boris standing behind them.

“Yes, they were good men,” Max said. “Rotten to the core, but good men, nevertheless.”

“The men I won’t miss,” Boris said. “But the submarine, that’s a different story. When the submarine went, there went my ride home. You ever tried hitchhiking across the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Especially hitch-hiking with a robotnapped computer,” Max said. “What have you done with Fred?”

Boris grimaced. “Don’t even mention that name. He may have the world’s finest brain, but, to go with it, he’s got a cheatin’ heart. I’ll never trust him again.”

“What did he do?” Blossom said curiously.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” Boris said morosely.

“Ah, come on,” Max said. “That’s the best thing to do-talk about it, get it out of your system.”

A tear rolled down Boris’s cheek. “I made him such beautiful promises,” he said. “ ‘Come with me,’ I told him. ‘Live in the land where every man is equal, each and every one a servant of the State.’ I promised him everything. He could have lived like a czar.”

“And he said no?”

Boris nodded. “He said no. I didn’t mind that. That, I expected. It was all lies, anyway, everything I promised him. What saddens me is his ingratitude. After all my promises, he done me dirty. Just as I was about to shove him in front of a speeding automobile, he…” Overcome, Boris began to weep.

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