significance to that statement?”
Dr. Gill smiled sinisterly again. “You are my prisoners,” he replied. “And, in time, after I have toyed with you, I intend-naturally-to destroy you.”
“All right, that explains the comment,” Max said. “Now then, item number two. How do you intend to keep us prisoner? Do you have a band of armed cutthroats to guard us?”
“You will see,” Dr. Gill replied, “that the whole installation, in a sense, is a cell. There is no need for guards. In fact, I am quite alone down here. At least, I was until you arrived.”
“I see,” Max nodded. “Then what is to stop me from hurling myself across the room at you, delivering a karate chop to a sensitive area of your person, rendering you unconscious, binding you, gagging you, then taking you back to Control with me as a prisoner?”
“Your distaste for violence?” Dr. Gill guessed.
Max shook his head. “As much as I dislike violence, I never hesitate to use it when it appears to be the simplest means of making a point.”
“Then perhaps this will stop you,” Dr. Gill smiled, showing Max and 99 a tiny pillbox-size gadget that he held in his hand.
“That’s hard to believe,” Max replied.
“Then I will demonstrate,” Dr. Gill said. Holding up the gadget, he pressed a button on its side.
Nothing appeared to happen.
“Maybe the batteries are low,” Max smiled.
But suddenly 99 clutched her throat. “Max! Air!”
Max responded immediately. He clutched his own throat. “99! Air!”
“Now, you understand,” Dr. Gill said. “I shut off the air supply, which is controlled by this gadget. I am unaffected, however, as you can see. I have a store of air in my lungs that will last me almost indefinitely.”
“I believe!” Max choked.
Dr. Gill pressed the button again. And a moment later Max and 99 were able to breathe once more.
“Is it clear now that you are my prisoners?” Dr. Gill said. “If you make any attempt at violence, or to escape, I will simply press the button, and you will suffocate in seconds.”
“Yes, well, that seems pretty clear,” Max replied. “But it does bring up a question. Why didn’t you destroy us just then?”
Dr. Gill sighed sadly. “The truth is, Max, I am a lonely fish.. uh, that is, man. I long for companionship. None of the KAOS agents will stay down here with me. I’m not good company, they say.”
“Oh… why is that?” Max asked.
Dr. Gill grinned evilly. “I keep shutting off the air supply,” he explained. “It’s a nervous habit.”
“If they were really your friends they would overlook little things like that,” Max said. “I know if you were a Control agent and you invited me to stay down here with you for a while, I certainly wouldn’t crab about a minor inconvenience. Incidentally, have you ever thought of switching your allegiance to Control-where you’d be among true friends?”
“It’s too late,” Dr. Gill replied. “I’m in too deep.”
“I see what you mean,” Max replied.
“Now,” Dr. Gill said, gesturing toward the doorway, “shall we have lunch? And enjoy a little polite conversation?”
“Is there any other choice?” Max asked.
Dr. Gill pressed the button on the gadget.
“Max! Air!” 99 cried.
“99! Air!” Max choked.
Dr. Gill pressed the button again. “Never question my suggestions,” he warned. “It irritates my nervous habit.”
“We’ll try to remember that,” Max panted.
5
Dr. Gill led the way out of the compartment. Max and 99 followed him at a short distance.
“Look for a place to plant the explosive,” Max whispered.
“There isn’t any place, Max! These steel walls and this steel floor and this steel ceiling, and no furnishings. He lives like a hermit.”
“Yes, the old crab.”
A few moments later, Dr. Gill ushered them into his kitchen. It was adequately furnished, but, at first glance, there didn’t appear to be a hiding place for the pellet.
“Please be seated,” Dr. Gill said, gesturing toward the table and chairs. “I’ll prepare lunch. Is there, by any chance, anything special you’d like?”
“How about lobster?” Max suggested.
Dr. Gill stiffened and looked at him coldly. “You’re suggesting cannibalism, Mr. Smart!” he snapped. “The lobster is one of my own kind!”
“Sorry about that,” Max replied meekly. “We’ll eat anything you prepare.”
“Good, good. I picked some fresh seaweed this morning,” Dr. Gill said. “It grows wild down here, you know.”
“I don’t blame it,” Max replied. “Trapped in the ocean, I’d probably grow a little wild myself.”
Dr. Gill reached for the gadget he had placed on the counter.
“Ah-ah! Nothing personal!” Max said quickly.
“Careful,” Dr. Gill warned. “I don’t want to have to destroy you at table. It would spoil my lunch.”
“And what kind of a guest would that make me!” Max said.
Dr. Gill brought plates to the table, then returned to the counter. A moment later he came back with a pot. He dipped seaweed from it, using a three-pronged fork, and dropped large portions onto the plates.
“Ah… I think you overlooked something,” Max said. “It’s raw.”
Dr. Gill laughed. “Who ever heard of cooking seaweed? It would ruin it.”
“Oh. Well then, if you’ll just give me a fork, I’ll dig right in.”
“Fork!” Dr. Gill glared. “You don’t fork seaweed! You approach it lying flat on your tummy, flap your fins, and nibble at it! Where did you learn your table manners?”
After lunch, Dr. Gill took Max and 99 on a tour of the installation. First he showed them the ventilating system.
“I pump in air from the surface through this pipe,” he explained. “The air then passes through this bubble bath.”
Max and 99 stared at the glass tank, in which bubbles were bobbing around, obviously circulated by a flow of air.
“Bubble bath?” 99 said curiously.
“To purify the air,” Dr. Gill explained. “You can’t imagine how dirty the air is on the surface. Ships use it, birds use it, helicopters use it. It’s full of fumes. Gasoline fumes, atom fumes, feather fumes. Ugh!”
“What happens to the air after it’s purified?” Max asked.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what kind of bubbles those are?” Dr. Gill countered.
“No. I can see. They’re soap bubbles.”
Dr. Gill shook his head, smiling. “They’re plastic bubbles,” he said. “Scientifically, I’m far ahead of the outside world. Outside, they’re still using old-fashioned soap to make bubbles. I’ve already switched to plastic.”
“Very interesting,” Max admitted. “Now, where does the air go after it has been purified by the plastic bubbles?”
“It comes out here,” Dr. Gill replied, showing Max and 99 a pipe-like outlet. “It circulates through the installation, then is rejected through the exhaust system.”
“Well, fine,” Max nodded. “Now what?”
