Get Smart 4 - Max Smart and the Perilous Pellets

by William Johnston

  “I knew it was bound to happen some day,” Max said. “Here come the men in the white coats.”

  99 whispered to him. “Max, I think they think we’re somebody else.”

  “We are,” Max whispered back. “We’re salesmen.”

  “No, Max. I think—”

  “Welcome, Doctor!” the leader of the group called. “I am Dr. Medulla, the famous brain doctor.” He then introduced his colleagues. “This is Dr. H. Nail, the famous finger doctor . . . and Dr. Stubble, the famous chin doctor . . . and Dr. Ache, the famous ear doctor . . . and Dr. Water, the famous knee doctor . . . and, last and least, our intern, Dr. Foot.”

  “How do you do,” Max nodded. “Now . . . who am I?”

  Dr. Medulla laughed heartily. “We all know who you are, Doctor,” he said. “At least, we know you by reputation. The finest all-’round surgeon in the world, that’s who you are. Although we weren’t sure at first.”

  “Oh?” Max replied.

  “When we saw your helicopter land down the road, we were a little suspicious,” Dr. Medulla said. “But then we saw the little black bag you were carrying and we knew you were a doctor.” He frowned. “Incidentally, why did you park your helicopter down the road?”

  “Ah . . . would you believe that it’s out of gas?” Max asked.

  “An atom-powered helicopter? Hardly.”

  ‘Then would you believe that it’s out of atoms?”

  Dr. Medulla shook his head. “Far-fetched.”

  “Would you believe, then, that we landed it down the road because it’s too noisy to be landed in a Hospital Zone?”

  “Well, if we had any patients here that would make sense,” Dr. Medulla replied.

  “You have no patients?”

  “Only you-know-who,” Dr. Medulla smiled.

  “I do? Who do I know who?”

  “You know who you know who,” Dr. Medulla grinned. He indicated 99. “I see you brought your nurse with you,” he said. “That was wise. Our nurses might not be able to assist you. They’re very fine nurses, of course. But they aren’t familiar with the techniques you employ.”

  “No, they probably aren’t,” Max replied.

  “Well, shall we go inside?” Dr. Medulla said. “You would probably like to meet the patient.”

  “You-know-who?”

  “Of course I know who. We all know who.”

  The whole group, including Max and 99, walked toward the main building.

  “Dr. Medulla, I have a confession to make,” Max said.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, you know how we brilliant doctors are . . . a little absent-minded sometimes.”

  “Indeed I do,” Dr. Medulla replied. “In fact, I practice absent-mindedness every morning for a half-hour. I hope to be a brilliant doctor myself some day.”

  “Yes. Well, you’ll understand then how it is that I don’t seem to recall why I’m here.”

  “Perfectly understandable,” Dr. Medulla nodded. “It’s the ultimate proof of how brilliant you are. We run-of-the-mill doctors always know why we’re where we are.” He lowered his voice, speaking to Max confidentially. “But I’m improving,” he said. “Last week, I forgot completely that I’m a brain doctor. I took out two livers, a half-dozen spleens and an appendix before I remembered. That’s progress, eh?”

  “Obviously, you have the makings of a great doctor,” Max replied. “But, at the moment, that’s no help to me. Perhaps you could tell me—why am I here?”

  “To conduct our latest experimental operation.”

  “Oh, yes, I think it’s all coming back to me. Now, if you’ll just fill in a few details . . .”

  “Well, you know about the human robot that R & D developed.”

  “Of course I know about the human robot that R & D developed. Tell me about it.”

  “Well, to make a long story short, R & D has developed a human robot,” Dr. Medulla explained. “This human robot is really a robot, of course. But it looks human. Therefore, it’s called a human robot.”

  “Yes, I’m fully aware of that,” Max said. “Now, why am I here?”

  “To operate on the human robot.”

  “I see. To take out its mechanical appendix, I suppose.”

  Dr. Medulla laughed. “Very funny, Doctor. But you are not here to take out. You are here to put in.”

  “Oh, to put in its mechanical appendix. Well, that ought to make medical history of some sort.”

  “No, Doctor, to put in the Super Boom.”

  “Yes, yes, now I remember,” Max said. “It’s all coming back. There’s just one little detail that still eludes me. What is the Super Boom?”

  “That’s the explosive that you will put into the human robot,” Dr. Medulla replied.

  “Permanently—or just for temporary safekeeping?” Max asked, as they entered the building and proceeded along a corridor.

  “That depends on the world,” Dr. Medulla smiled.

  “Oh.”

  “The Super Boom is the most destructive explosive ever developed,” Dr. Medulla went on. “After you have implanted the Super Boom in the human robot, the human robot will be released. It will wander off, no one knows where. Then KAOS will announce to the world that the human robot, carrying the Super Boom, is at large.”

  “That’ll cause some head-shaking,” Max commented.

  “The Super Boom can be detonated from anywhere,” Dr. Medulla said. “It won’t matter where the human robot roams to, we can still set off the explosive. And, if we do set off the explosive, it will destroy the whole world. But—”

  “Yes?”

  “But, for one hundred million dollars, we will promise not to detonate the explosive.”

  “That seems reasonable enough,” Max said.

  “Yes, we set the price low because, actually, we don’t want to set off the explosive and destroy the whole world.”

  “Oh? Why not?”

  Dr. Medulla lowered his voice again. “One of our junior executives has pointed out that we’re part of the world,” he explained. “If we blow up the world, we’ll blow ourselves up, too. That’s the one weak spot in our plan. Don’t let it get out.”

  “No one will hear it from me,” Max promised.

  They had reached a room. Dr. Medulla opened the door, then led the party inside. On a stretcher was a human robot.

  “That fellow looks familiar,” Max frowned.

  “Of course,” Dr. Medulla smiled. “He was designed to look exactly like the average citizen. He’ll look familiar to everybody. Clever, eh?”

  “Very clever,” Max replied. “But what’s the point of it?”

  “Preventive thinking,” Dr. Medulla said. “When we send the human robot out into the world, then make our demand for one hundred million dollars, we are bound to make some enemies. In fact, the whole world will probably unite against us. We will be taken prisoner. We will be tortured. The world will demand to know where the human robot is, so that it can be destroyed.”

  “But you won’t tell,” Max said.

  “Oh, we would gladly tell, if we were being tortured. But we won’t know. So we won’t be able to tell.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t explain why you made the robot in the image of the average man.”

  “Well, when the world finds out that we don’t know where the human robot is, it will say, ‘All right, we’ll find him ourselves. Describe him.’ ”

  “And you’ll reply—”

  “We’ll say, ‘Oh, he looks like the average man.’ Among all the average-looking men in the world, let them try to find a human robot that looks like the average man!”

  “By Harry, that is clever!” Max said.

  “Are you ready to operate, Doctor?” Dr. Medulla said.

  “Not quite,” Max replied. “I find that an operation has a much greater chance of succeeding if I develop a personal relationship with the patient before I begin cutting.”

  “Oh, really? It actually helps, does it?”

  “Yes. I tr
y to get the patient to trust me before I take him to the operating room,” Max said. “That way, when he has faith in me, he isn’t as likely to jump up off the operating table and run out screaming when I reach for the knife.”

  “Hmmmm, that’s interesting,” Dr. Medulla said thoughtfully. “But, I think, personally, I prefer my own method.”

  “How do you do it?” Max asked.

  “I sneak up behind them when they’re not looking.”

  “To each his own,” Max said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone with the patient. That is, alone with the patient, and my nurse.”

  “How long will it take?” Dr. Medulla asked.

  “Oh . . . three, four days?”

  “Could you trim it down to a half-hour?”

  “Why not?” Max smiled. “After all, it’s only the patient who has anything to lose by it.”

  Dr. Medulla winked. “I like your attitude, Doctor,” he said, leading the other doctors out.

  When Max and 99 were alone, Max quickly opened the black bag and got out an explosive. “We have a half-hour,” he said. “We’ll plant this pellet, then we’ll climb out a window and make a run for the helicopter.”

  “What about me?” a mechanical-sounding voice said.

  “99, I think you’ve caught cold,” Max said.

  “Max . . . that wasn’t me!”

  “99, think! It wasn’t me. And you and I and the human robot are the only ones in the room. So, if it wasn’t you, it had to be—” He looked narrowly at the robot. “—you?”

  “I was promised an operation,” the robot said. “Nobody’s going to cheat me out of my operation. And, incidentally, what was that business about planting a pellet?”

  “Oh, that . . . that was a technical phrase,” Max replied. “You wouldn’t understand.” He looked more closely at the human robot. “You sound almost human,” he said.

  “I am—half.”

  “Are you human enough to know what these KAOS agents intend to do to you?” Max said.

  “Yes. Isn’t it great!”

  “Great? They intend to use you to blackmail the entire world. They’ll send you out into the world, then issue an ultimatum: Put up or Blow up!”

  “I’ll be famous!” the human robot enthused. “I’ll be on the front page of every newspaper in the world!”

  “But suppose the world refuses to accept the terms? KAOS will detonate the Super Boom. You’ll be destroyed.”

  “Big deal,” the human robot replied. “Eventually, everybody dies. But how many people make the front pages?”

  “Let me put it another way,” Max said. “Suppose I told you that I’m not really a doctor?”

  “Don’t try to weasel out of a promise,” the human robot said. “You can’t fool me. I know you’re a doctor. You’re carrying a little black bag.”

  “All right, then suppose I told you that you don’t need an operation? Suppose I told you that all you really need is a lot of rest and a lot of sunshine?”

  “I’d report you to Dr. Medulla,” the human robot replied.

  “Oh. Well, in that case, I think I better examine you. Sometimes an examination reveals that a patient knows more about what is best for him than the doctor. Stick out your tongue.”

  The human robot extended its tongue.

  “Well . . . an aluminum tongue,” Max commented. “That probably means something.” He put an ear to the human robot’s chest and listened. “Hmmmm . . . ticking. That’s undoubtedly an indication of something, too. Tell me, when was the last time you ate a wristwatch?”

  “Stop beating around the bush,” the human robot said. “Do I get my operation or don’t I?”

  “Well, frankly, it’s my opinion that—”

  “Or do I scream for Dr. Medulla?”

  “—that you are in desperate need of an operation,” Max finished.

  “Then let’s get on with it,” the human robot said. “I want to make the morning editions of the newspapers.”

  The door of the room opened. Dr. Medulla entered. “Time’s up,” he said.

  “That was a fast half-hour,” Max commented.

  “You know how time flies in our racket,” Dr. Medulla said. “It’s cut, cut, cut, and, before you know it, it’s dinnertime, time to carve the roast. A surgeon’s work is never done. Have you established a personal relationship with the patient?”

  “We detest each other,” the human robot said.

  “That’s as it should be,” Dr. Medulla replied. “What doctor wants to operate on someone he likes?” He signalled to the other doctors, who were waiting in the corridor. “Take the patient to the operating room,” he said.

  The other doctors entered, then wheeled away the stretcher that held the human robot.

  “Everything is ready for you, Doctor,” Dr. Medulla said to Max. “It is time to make history!”

  “Oh?” Max said, pleased. “Do you really think it will go down in history?”

  “I am certain,” Dr. Medulla replied. “That is, of course, if, after the Super Boom is detonated, there is any history left.”

  “Max,” 99 whispered. “Let’s run!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, 99,” Max whispered back. “You heard Dr. Medulla. This may go down in history.”

  “But Max,” 99 hissed. “If the operation is a success, and the human robot is released, and the Super Boom is detonated, you—and all of us—will die!”

  “99, everybody has to die eventually,” Max hissed back. “But how many people get the chance to make history?” He faced Dr. Medulla again. “When it goes down in history, what do you suppose it will be called?” he asked.

  “I’ve taken care of that,” Dr. Medulla smiled. “I’ve left a note, giving exact instructions. It will be known as—”

  “Yes?” Max asked eagerly.

  “It will be known as: Operation Operation.”

  “I like it,” Max smiled. “It has a nice beat.”

  10.

  WHEN MAX, 99 and Dr. Medulla reached the operating room, the patient, the human robot, was already there. He had been transferred from the stretcher to the operating table.

  “If you don’t mind,” Max said to Dr. Medulla, “I would like to consult in private with my nurse.”

  “I don’t mind,” Dr. Medulla replied. “What does your nurse think about it?”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” 99 smiled. “But what do the other doctors think about it?”

  “We’d better poll them,” Dr. Medulla said. He addressed the other doctors, and the other nurses, who were collected around the operating table. “The motion has been made—” he began.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Max broke in. “As I recall, according to the Geneva Convention, a doctor has a right to consult with his nurse in private no matter what anyone else thinks.” He signalled to 99. “Over here, nurse,” he said, moving toward a secluded corner of the operating room.

  When they were alone, Max said, “99, before I begin this operation, there’s one question. How, exactly, do you perform an operation?”

  “Max! I thought you knew!”

  “Well, I have a general idea. I know you open the patient up, and sort of rummage around inside. And, too, I know you say ‘scaffold’ a lot. But—”

  “Not ‘scaffold,’ Max. You say ‘scalpel.’ ”

  “Oh. Well, ‘scaffold’ was close. Probably no one would have noticed.”

  “Max, a scaffold is a temporary structure erected against a wall to support workmen. A scalpel is a knife. I think someone might have noticed the error.”

  “All right, I’ll remember—scalpel, scalpel, scalpel. There now, it’s etched in my mind.”

  “Max, are you really going through with this?” 99 said. “You don’t know the first thing about surgery.”

  “Yes, I do,” Max replied. “The first thing is: have a sharp knife. It’s the second, third, fourth, fifth and so on things that I don’t know the first thing about. But I have no choice, 99. We have t
o stall—until we can shake these KAOS people and plant the explosive.”

  “All right, Max. But . . . I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “You ought to be thankful, 99, that I don’t know what I’m doing. If I knew what I was doing, I’d be so shaky I probably couldn’t hold a scaffold.”

  “Scalpel, Max!”

  “Oh, yes—scalpel, scalpel, scalpel. I must remember that.”

  “Doctor . . .” Dr. Medulla called. “The patient is ready.”

  Max and 99 walked to the operating table.

  “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Max said to the human robot.

  The human, robot turned to Dr. Medulla. “He’s stalling,” he said. “I demand my operation.”

  “Stop stalling,” Dr. Medulla said to Max. “The patient demands his operation.”

  Max turned to a nurse. “Stop stalling,” he said. “The patient demands his operation.”

  “What am I doing?” the nurse replied, surprised. “I’m just standing here.”

  “She admits it—she’s stalling,” Max said to Dr. Medulla.

  “Stop stalling, nurse,” Dr. Medulla said to the nurse. “Instead of just standing there, prepare the doctor for the operation.”

  The nurse popped a white cap onto Max’s head. “Hold out your hands,” she said.

  Max extended his hands, and she slipped a pair of rubber gloves onto them. Next, she tied a mask around his face. “You’re ready, Doctor,” she said.

  “I may be ready,” Max replied, “but I feel a little silly. Do I really need these gloves and this mask?”

  “They’re essential,” Dr. Medulla insisted.

  “Are you sure? Has anybody really thought this out? Just why is it so essential that I wear a mask and rubber gloves?”

  “Because, after the operation, we’re all going out and rob a bank,” Dr. Medulla replied. “You’ll need the mask so you won’t be recognized and the rubber gloves so you won’t leave fingerprints on the vault.”

  “Fine. That’s all I wanted, a logical explanation,” Max said. He turned to 99. “Are my instruments ready, nurse?”

  “What instruments, Max?”

  “In the black bag, nurse.”

  “Oh. Oh, yes, Doctor.”

  “Is the Super Boom ready for the implant?” Max said to Dr. Medulla.