8
The trio slept late the next morning. It was nearly noon when they arrived in the dining room for breakfast. When they were seated, the waiter handed out menus.
“What’s this?” Max said, frowning at the menu. “Roast beef? Roast turkey? Roast lamb? This isn’t the sort of thing a man likes for breakfast.”
“Sorry, sir. Breakfast is over. It’s time for lunch.”
Max sighed. “All right. I’ll have the roast turkey-but scrambled. And with sausage, buttered toast and coffee.”
“I’ll have two four-minute lambs,” 99 said. “And bacon, buttered toast and coffee.”
“Rorff!”
“There’s one at every meal,” Max said disgustedly. He spoke to the waiter. “Fang will settle for buttered toast and coffee,” he said. “But he wants them curried.”
“Yes, sir.”
The waiter departed.
“Well now,” Max said, “let’s see what’s on the professional menu. We still have a mission to complete. And, so far, the diabolical Dr. X has eluded our rapidly closing pincers.”
“Pardon, Max?”
“He’s outsmarted us.”
“Oh… yes. Max,” 99 said, “I think we ought to concentrate on those scientists again. After all, we know that Dr. X is among the group.”
“You’re probably right, 99,” Max said. He took a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and began unfolding it. “I have the scientists’ schedule here,” he said. “It was given to me along with my membership in the tour. Let’s see what the scientists will be doing today.” He scanned the sheet closely. “At nine this morning,” he said, “they met in the ship’s auditorium to hear a lecture on ‘Molecules and Atoms-Do They or Don’t They (And Why Only Their Scientist Knows).’ Too bad we missed that.”
“What are the scientists doing now, Max?”
“Let’s see… well, right now, they’re on a coffee break. Then at noon-” He glanced at his watch. “-exactly four minutes from now-they gather again in the auditorium for a lecture on ‘Space-The Way-Out Element’. That lecture is to be given by Dr. Maxwell Smart.” He folded the sheet of paper. “That lecture might prove interesting,” he said. “Personally, I don’t know the first thing about space. I forgot to read that book the Chief gave me.”
“Max!” 99 said, horrified. “That’s you!”
“What is me, 99?”
“That Dr. Maxwell Smart-the one who’s supposed to give the lecture on Space!”
Scowling, Max unfolded the sheet of paper again and looked at the schedule. “Yes,” he sighed, “that’s me, all right. I’d recognize that name anywhere.”
“Max, what are you going to do!”
“There’s only one thing to do, 99-give that lecture. If I don’t show up, the scientists may suspect that I’m not really a scientist. And, among those scientists who will suspect that I’m not really a scientist will be the diabolical Dr. X.”
“But, Max! You don’t know the first thing about Space. You said so yourself.”
“Don’t worry, 99. I’ll simply rely on Rule 17.”
“I don’t believe I remember that rule, Max.”
“Rule 17 reads: ‘Fake it!’ ”
At that moment, the waiter appeared with the food. “Roast turkey, scrambled; two four-minute lambs; and buttered toast and coffee curried,” he announced.
“Sorry, but we don’t have time to eat,” Max said, rising. “But I’m sure someone else will order the same thing-so the food won’t go to waste.” He motioned to 99 and Fang. “Let’s go-we’re due in the auditorium.”
They hurried from the dining room, raced down the deck, and darted into the auditorium just as the scientist who was conducting the meeting was opening the noon session.
“Gentlemen,” he said, addressing the large gathering of scientists, “I know this is a moment you have all waited for with growing anticipation. And so, without further delay, let us welcome our expert on Space, Dr. Maxwell Smart!”
A cheer went up. And Max, cool, calm and collected, took his place in front of the scientists.
“A funny thing happened to me on the way to the auditorium,” Max began.
There was genial laughter.
“I thought you would appreciate that,” Max smiled. “Now, for our subject for today-Space-The Way-Out Element.” He adjusted his tie. “As you gentlemen probably know, space is one of our most important elements. Without space, there would be nothing to put things in. Which, of course, would result in a great deal of overcrowding. Basically, I think, that explains what space is.
“The next question that comes to mind, of course, is ‘what are the various uses of space?’ And, the first thing we think of, naturally, is the use to which space is most commonly put. That is, to fill empty places-such as this auditorium-when all of the people have gone somewhere else.”
A half-dozen scientists rose and left.
“Which reminds me of a little poem that one of my fellow scientists once wrote on the subject of space,” Max went on. “As I remember it-and correct me if I’m wrong-it went: ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, great big space / There you are, all over the place. / Up above the world so high / And in between the apples and the crust in my apple pie.’ ”
A dozen-and-a-half scientists departed.
“But,” Max continued, “the thing about space that is probably of the most interest to us today is the fact that it is fire-proof-or, to be more truthful, fire-resistant. The records show that there was one instance in which space actually did catch on fire. But, just prior to that moment, it had fallen into a can of gasoline. So, that instance probably doesn’t count.”
Three dozen scientists made their way from the auditorium.
“In conclusion,” Max said, “I think it should be pointed out that there is always a danger in working with space. For instance, if you get too much of it into the laboratory, you will find that there is a great distance between you and your test tubes. All that running back and forth can be injurious to the health if you’re not used to it.”
Now, only one scientist was left.
“I think that just about covers all I know about space,” Max said. “Now… are there any questions?”
The one scientist raised his hand.
“I see a hand,” Max said. “Yes, sir?”
“Dr. Smart, I am Dr. Zee.”
“Yes, I thought I recognized you, Dr. Zee. We’ve met before, haven’t we? In your stateroom, I believe.”
“Dot is right. Dr. Smart, I have a qvestion.”
“Fire away, Doctor.”
“Dr. Smart, vot is your opinion of the Van Allen Belt?”
“I think the buckle is coming loose,” Max replied. “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times-if Van Allen doesn’t get himself a pair of suspenders, he’s going to lose his pants.”
“I have anoder qvestion, Doctor.”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“Do you believe dere is life on Mars?”
“Well, I hope there is, Doctor. And, you know the old saying: Where there’s hope, there’s life.”
“One more qvestion, Doctor.”
“Let’er rip, Doctor.”
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?”
“Sorry, Doctor. I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it could get me tossed into the brig.”
Dr. Zee bowed. “I tank you, Doctor.”
Max bowed in return. “Don’t mention it.”
