Meat Thermometer.’ ”
“Rorff!”
“Yes, that is amazing,” Max said, holding up the gadget. “Imagine getting all that into a capsule the size of this. Why, it’s not much bigger than a tube of lipstick.”
“Rorff!”
Max scowled. “That’s possible. Maybe they did attach the wrong label to it.”
“Rorff!”
“That’s even more possible,” Max admitted. “Maybe it is a tube of 99’s lipstick. I think I better check it out. I’ll just pull the top off and-”
There was a sudden WHOOSH! The capsule exploded, and large, small and medium-sized objects filled the air, then settled down on Max and Fang, burying them.
They clawed their way to the surface.
“Fang! Are you all right!”
“rurff.”
“Oh, there you are. Take your head out of the oven.”
Max struggled to his feet, then, disgusted, stared down at the rubble of food containers and cooking utensils. “Look at that!” he said. “Fourteen boxes of instant oatmeal! Is that what they call food rations! I wouldn’t feed that gunk to a dog!”
“Rorff!”
“Sorry, Fang. I didn’t mean that personally.” He groaned. “Well, let’s get this stateroom straightened up. Shove everything under the bunk.”
When the rubble had been cleared away, Max and Fang turned their attentions to the attache case of gadgets once more.
Max plucked an item from the case that looked like a nozzle for a hose. “What do you suppose this is?” he said, curious.
“Rorff!”
“I know what it looks like. But it can’t be that. The thing about these gadgets is, they’re designed to look like something harmless to disguise the fact that, actually, they’re lethal weapons. Now then, let’s read this tag and see what this instrument really is.” He read-silently. “Hmmmmmmm,” he said, finally, “a nozzle, eh?”
“Rorff!”
“Fang, nobody likes an ‘I-told-you-so.’ ” He peered into the business end of the nozzle. “Very interesting. But highly impractical. What good is a nozzle without a hose? And, more to the point, what good is a nozzle without a hose that’s attached to a water hydrant? No, I’m afraid I’ll have to give Research and Development a thumbs down on this one.”
At that moment, 99 put her head in the doorway.
“Hi, Max. I’m back.”
“Welcome home,” Max said. “Did you get the list?”
“Oh, yes. I found the list officer and asked him for the list, but he said that lists were restricted, he couldn’t give any lists out to anybody who wasn’t authorized personnel.”
“That’s the usual story,” Max said. “What did you do?”
“I said, ‘All right, don’t give me the list, but may I have a copy of it?’ So that was okay, he gave me a carbon of the list. He said there wasn’t any rule about who could get copies.”
“Good, good. I’d ask you to bring the list in, 99, but there just isn’t room. So, do this. Make a paper airplane out of it and sail it over to me, will you?”
“All right, Max.”
99 began folding the list into the shape of a paper airplane, but then she stopped and looked at Max puzzledly.
“Max,” she said, “why are you standing there holding a nozzle?”
“Oh. This is one of the gadgets that Research and Development sent along in the attache case,” Max explained. He smiled. “Looks like a nozzle, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. What is it really?”
“It’s a nozzle.”
99 giggled. “Max, you’re kidding.”
“No. No, I’m not. It’s really a nozzle.”
“Let’s see. Squirt some water.”
Max looked pained. “99, you can’t squirt water out of a nozzle that doesn’t have a hose attached to it. That’s elementary logic.”
“Max, R and D wouldn’t have sent it if it didn’t work. Turn it on.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Try it, Max.”
“I’d feel like a silly-Billy.”
“Oh, go on, Max. It won’t hurt.”
“Well…”
Max turned the nozzle. And a thunderous stream of water gushed from the end.
“Max! Turn it off!” 99 shrieked.
“I can’t! It’s stuck!”
The stream of water sprayed the stateroom. It knocked pictures off the walls. Fang became drenched. Max became drenched. 99 tried to fight her way into the stateroom to help Max, and she became drenched.
Water began to rise in the stateroom. A stove floated out from under the bunk.
“Max!” 99 called. “Open the porthole!”
Max dropped the nozzle, waded to the porthole, and yanked it open.
The sea came rolling in!
“Max!” 99 screamed. “I forgot how far down we are! Close the porthole!”
Max threw his weight against the porthole cover, and finally got it closed, shutting off the rush of sea water.
A grayish ooze began bubbling up from under the bunk!
“Max! What is that!” 99 wailed.
“That,” Max said disgustedly, “is fourteen boxes of instant oatmeal!”
“Max! Do something!”
“Close the door!” Max called back.
“Max, no! You’ll drown in there!”
“Close the door!” Max commanded. “I want to get this nozzle into the bathroom and put it in the sink. But I can’t open the bathroom door unless you close the stateroom door.”
“Oh. All right, Max.”
99 tried to close the stateroom door. But she didn’t have much success.
“99-what’s the matter!”
“It’s the oatmeal, Max. The doorway is so full of oatmeal, I can’t get the door closed.”
“All right-belay that last order.” Max turned to Fang. “Fang, I’m going to open the porthole once more. When I do, you throw the nozzle out the opening. Ready?”
“Rorff!”
“Fang, I don’t think this is the time to worry about whether you should throw it underhanded or overhanded. Just throw!”
“Rorff!”
“All right, underhanded, if that’s your best throw. And, yes, I promise I’ll watch.”
Again, Max yanked the porthole open.
Fang gripped the nozzle firmly in his jaws, then, with considerable skill, pitched it out the opening- underhanded.
Once more, Max pressed his full weight against the porthole cover. The sea yielded, and the cover closed.
