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!’ ”
The girl translated for the young men. “Probona slot machine, expresso ‘peep-a-dotta, poop-a-dotta, dippa- dotta-boop!’ ”
The men stared open-mouthed at Max.
Embarrassed, Max hooked a thumb toward Blossom. “Don’t look at me-she’s the one who thought him up!”
Fang returned. He was no longer creeping. “Rorff!” he barked.
Max looked pained. To the receptionist, he said, “I’m very sorry.” He and Fang began backing toward the doorway, edging Blossom out with them. “Natural mistake,” Max apologized to the receptionist. “I heard you all speaking in a foreign language, so I naturally assumed that there was some sort of funny business going on. Again… sorry.” He closed the door behind him.
“What did Fang find?” Blossom said, when they were in the corridor again.
“Nothing,” Max sighed.
“Rorff!”
“Oh… yeah… a guy in the back room building bombs and painting ‘Yanks Unfair to Yogi Berra’ signs. But no Fred.”
Blossom sighed. “What now?”
“We still have a sheepdog up our sleeve,” Max said. “If Fred is in this building, Fang will find him. Look… do you have anything personal on you that belongs to Fred?”
Blossom opened her purse and pawed through it. “Here’s a transistor,” she said finally. “It was part of Fred’s calculating mechanism. But it blew when he tried to work out a problem in the New Math. I had to replace it.”
“Great,” Max said, taking the transistor. He held it out to Fang. “Sniff, boy!”
Fang sniffed. “Rorff!”
“He’s got the scent!” Max said. “Now, let’s go back to that board in the lobby that lists all the names of the nations and match up the scent with the country. That will give us the whereabouts of Fred!”
As they hurried toward the elevators, Blossom said, “That doesn’t really seem very logical to me.”
“Logic-schmogic!” Max retorted. “In this business, you have to use your brain.”
When they reached the lobby, they went directly to the roster of names.
Fang sniffed. “Rorff!”
“A-ha!” Max exulted. “Zambrosia, is it?” He turned smugly to Blossom. “And you said it wasn’t logical!”
“I still don’t see-”
“It just so happens,” Max said, “that in Greek mythology, ambrosia is the food of the gods. It’s supposed to ensure immortality. He who eats ambrosia never dies. Get it?”
Blossom shook her head.
“Then apparently you don’t remember that there is also an old saying that goes, ‘Never trust a Greek bearing gifts.’ Now… think about it… who else, bearing gifts, should never be trusted?”
Blossom thought. “Santa Claus?”
Max winced. “You’re not even trying. A FLAG agent, that’s who! Or, in other words, Zambrosia is a cover-up for a FLAG agent who is holding Fred captive. Now… see the logic?”
Again, Blossom shook her head.
Max threw up his hands in disgust. “Try to explain something to a flutter-headed dame!” He signalled to Fang. “Come on, boy! Grab your scent, and let’s get tracking!”
They dashed away, Fang with his nose to the ground, and Blossom hurried after them.
Fang led them to the elevators, then to a high floor. Getting off the elevator, they made their way along the corridor until they came to a door marked ZAMBROSIA.
“Is that a nose, or is that a nose!” Max crowed.
“I don’t think he followed a scent at all,” Blossom said.
“He got us here, didn’t he?”
“He probably read the directions off that board downstairs,” Blossom said.
Max eyed Fang sternly. “ ’Fess up, boy! Did you read those directions?”
Fang whined and hid his face.
Max looked at him scathingly. “I hope that’s the last time that ever happens. Remember this: Cheaters never win!”
“Rorff!”
“That’s a very poor philosophy for a secret agent!” Max snapped.
“What did he say?” Blossom asked.
“He said that cheaters win all the time-you just never hear about it.”
“There’s probably something to that. You know, once-”
“Never mind!” Max broke in. “I don’t want Fang to hear about it. He’s got enough wrong ideas in his head as it is.” He faced the door. “All right… this is it! Fred is in there somewhere! There’s no time for the amenities. We’ll charge in, overpower the guards, release Fred, then make a run for it! All set?”
“But-”
“Ready?”
“But-”
“Go!”
Max threw the door open wide and charged in. Fang went yelping down the corridor in the other direction, tail between his legs. Blossom just stared.
As in the previous office, there was a small desk and a female receptionist seated behind it. There were two other men present. They were seated also, reading, as if they were waiting for an audience with the person behind another door that was marked Private.
Max challenged the larger of the two young men. “On your feet!”
Puzzled, the man rose.
“Hold out your right hand!” Max ordered.
Still perplexed, the man obeyed.
Max grasped the hand, and, using a jujitsu hold, flung the man across the room. The man splattered against the wall, slid to the floor, and lay silent.
“One down!” Max chortled. To the other man, he said, “Next!”
The man made a break for the doorway.
