“Obviously, it’s not really a skeleton key,” Max said softly to himself. “When inserted in the keyhole it probably expels a smoke screen that confuses the adversary and allows the user to escape under the cover of fog.”
Max inserted the key into the lock, then turned it.
The door creaked slowly open. That was all.
“Well, are you coming?” Dr. Yeh! demanded.
“Don’t nag!” Max snapped.
He closed the door, dropped the skeleton key back into the bag, changed clothes, then stepped out.
Once more the guards seized him. They dragged him toward the doorway. Dr. Yeh! tagged along.
“I have one other last request,” Max said, as the guards hustled him along the corridor. “There’s a little chili joint called ‘Mexican Fred’s’ in lower Manhattan. I’d like to have one more bowl of Mexican Fred’s chili before I die.”
Dr. Yeh! shuddered. “I know the place,” he said. “By refusing your request, I’m doing you a favor. That stuff could kill you.”
They reached the courtyard, and the guards dragged Max to the wall.
99 was there, still waiting. “Max! Where have you been?” she demanded irritably.
“Where I’ve been isn’t terribly important to me right now,” Max replied. “The important question is: Where am I going? At a time like this, a fellow begins to wonder.”
“Max-are you in some sort of trouble?” 99 asked worriedly.
He pointed to the guards, who, a short distance away, were trying to form a straight line. “You are about to witness an execution, 99,” he replied. “Mine.” He handed her the satchel. “You better hold this. I might drop it when I fall.”
“Oh, Max, no!” 99 cried. “Isn’t there something I can do?”
“Well… there’s a little joint in lower Manhattan called ‘Mexican Fred’s.’ What you could do, 99, is-”
“Ready!” Dr. Yeh! commanded the guards.
They raised their rifles.
“It’s probably too late,” Max said to 99. “Besides, the chili would undoubtedly be cold by the time you got it back here.”
“Aim!” Dr. Yeh! commanded.
Max addressed one of the guards. “A little bit to the left,” he said, gesturing. “As it is, you’re going to miss me by a mile.”
The guard adjusted his aim.
“No… too far,” Max said. “Just a squinch back to the right.”
Again the guard adjusted his aim.
“Right on target!” Max said approvingly.
Dr. Yeh! stormed up to Max. “Who’s directing this execution?” he demanded. “You or me?”
“Sorry about that,” Max replied.
“You think you’re so hot!” Dr. Yeh! barked. “You want me to come over here and stand by the wall and you go over there and give the orders? Is that what you want?”
“No, no, I apologize,” Max said. “You’re doing fine, fine. I’m sorry I interrupted.”
“Just butt out, that’s all!”
“I told you-I’m sorry.”
Dr. Yeh! stomped back to his place at the end of the line of guards.
“Sorehead,” Max muttered.
“Aim!” Dr. Yeh! bellowed.
“You said that,” Max pointed out.
Dr. Yeh! shook an outraged finger at him. “I’m warning you! One more word, and you’re gonna get it!”
Max turned to 99. “He’s right, you know. The word is ‘fire.’ ”
“Max! What can I do!”
“Try the black bag,” Max suggested. “Look for something labeled ‘For Use at Executions.’ ”
Hurriedly, 99 rummaged through the bag. “Here!” she cried excitedly, extracting a gadget.
“99, that’s a cigarette lighter.”
“I know. But it says, ‘For Use at Executions.’ Just a second, I’ll read the instructions. It says, ‘When you are standing at the wall and you are offered a last cigarette, use this gadget to light it.’ ”
“Somehow, I expected a little more from R amp; D,” Max said disappointedly.
“Max, maybe the instructions are a ruse. Maybe the cigarette lighter is something more than a cigarette lighter.”
“Yes, it might expel a smoke screen,” Max replied. “I don’t suppose, at this point, it will do any harm to try it.”
Quickly, 99 aimed the cigarette lighter at the guards and pressed the button.
“Fire!” Dr. Yeh! shouted.
The guards instantly dropped their rifles, wailed, “Magic! Magic!” and fell to their knees.
Baffled, Max stared at the prostrate guards.
99 stared at the flame that the lighter had produced.
Dr. Yeh! rushed up to Max. “Magic!” he gushed happily.
Max felt his body. “Did they all miss?” he asked.
“They didn’t shoot,” Dr. Yeh! replied. “They were too astounded. It’s Magic!”
“But I heard you yell ‘fire!’ ” Max said.
“I didn’t yell ‘fire!’ ” Dr. Yeh! replied. “I yelled ‘fire!’ ”
“Oh… is there a difference?”
“When I yelled ‘fire!’ I wasn’t ordering them to fire, I was exclaiming over the fire,” Dr. Yeh! said, indicating the lighter flame.
Max smiled. “Oh, yes, now I understand. I forgot there for a second that I’m among ignorant savages. When you saw the flame appear, you thought it was magic. The fact is, however, that that gadget is a quite common ordinary little gadget in civilized societies. There’s no magic to it.”
“Look who’s calling who an ignorant savage,” Dr. Yeh! replied. “What you don’t know about cigarette lighters! This one works the first time the button is pushed. That’s Magic!”
“Unusual, yes,” Max agreed. “But magic? I frankly-”
“Who’s the sheik around here!” Dr. Yeh! snarled. “I say it’s Magic!”
“All right. We won’t debate the matter,” Max said. “I think we’ve held up the execution long enough. Now, if you’ll just get those guards to their feet, and if you’ll just return to your own-”
“You’re trying to run the show again!” Dr. Yeh! said warningly.
Max raised his hands in a gesture of apology.
“The execution is off!” Dr. Yeh! beamed. “Instead, we’ll have a big party!”
“What’s the occasion?” Max asked.
“Who needs an excuse for a party?” Dr. Yeh! replied. He turned to 99. “Flung,” he ordered, “return to the ballet dancer place. Get the flingers together and report to my throne room. Tell them it’s Party Time. My American Advisor and I wish to be entertained. We will feast and we will tell tall stories and we will watch the ballet. And then-” He winked at Max. “-we will open the black bag and play marbles with the money!”
“Max…?” 99 said.
“Do what you’re told, flung,” Max replied.
99 scurried off. She was still carrying the black bag.
“Shall we adjourn to the throne room, American Advisor?” Dr. Yeh! smiled, putting an arm around Max’s shoulder.
“Why not?” Max replied. “It beats the firing squad.”
4
By the time Max and Dr. Yeh! reached the throne room it had already been transformed into a banquet hall. A sumptuous, banquet-style meal awaited them-chicken a la king, stale rolls, peas, stuffed celery, canned peaches, and warm milk. And not long after they had seated themselves at the table, the ballet troupe appeared.
“On with the ballet!” Dr. Yeh! cried.
The ballet began. 99 was the center of attraction. The flingers flung her from one side of the banquet hall to the other, always catching her just before she hit the floor.
“It’s magnificent,” Max said, not really paying much attention, but looking around for some place to plant a pellet.
“It’s good, yes,” Dr. Yeh! frowned. “But there’s something not quite right about that new flung.”
Max peered at 99, who was, at that moment, sailing through the air. “Maybe it’s because she’s carrying that black satchel,” he said.
“I think that’s it,” Dr. Yeh! agreed. “Somehow, it detracts from the usual grace of the dance.”
“It’ll do it every time,” Max said. “You get a ballet dancer carrying a suitcase and she’s all thumbs.”