“Toothpicks under the fingernails,” Fitz-Hugh replied. “Except that, at the moment, we’re fresh out of toothpicks.”
“Doesn’t that smack of sloppy organization?” Max said.
“It’s one of the drawbacks when you’re running a Grand Revolution and there’s a price on your head,” Fitz-Hugh explained. “It’s hard to get into town to shop.” He smiled. “But, we make-do. Instead of toothpicks, we use match sticks, whittled to a sharp point.”
“Speaking for myself,” Max decided, “I think I’ll skip the torture and go right on to the confession. Where do I sign?”
Fitz-Hugh smiled slyly. “Of course. . there is one other alternative. .”
“We’ll take it,” Max said.
“Max. . shouldn’t we hear what it is first?” 99 said.
“99, the other choices are match sticks under the fingernails and execution. Could it possibly be any worse?”
“I guess you’re right, Max.”
“The other alternative is, you can join the Revolution,” Fitz-Hugh said.
“Well, normally, I’m not a joiner,” Max said. “But, if you’ve got a cause that I can believe in, I see no reason why I shouldn’t make an exception in this case. What is your cause?”
“ ’Cause we want to overthrow the present government,” Fitz-Hugh replied.
“For any particular reason? Or do you just have a lot of leisure time on your hands?”
“For the best reason in the world,” Fitz-Hugh replied. “It’s time for a change. The present government has been in office for going on three weeks now. It’s shot through with graft and corruption. The officials are getting rich.”
“I see. So, now you figure it’s your turn.”
“Right. Let them hole up out here in the jungle for a while and see how they like it, not being able to go into town and shop.”
“Well, compared to match sticks under the fingernails, that certainly is a worthy cause,” Max said. “I, for one, am with you.”
“Me, too, I guess,” 99 said. “If Max thinks it’s right.”
“I’ve always been loyal to the cause,” Hassan said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the Grand Revolution-unless, of course, it involved physical exertion. You see,” he said, putting his hands on his waist and wincing, “I have this bad back.”
“I know what you mean,” Fitz-Hugh said. “Myself, I have a trick knee. That’s why I don’t go out on dangerous assignments.” He turned to Max. “And, speaking of dangerous assignments,” he said, “At this very moment, I happen to be in need of a volunteer for a dangerous assignment.”
“Too bad,” Max said. “It so happens that I happen to have a physical problem myself. I suffer from sticky eyelids.”
“Coward!” Hassan sneered.
“Slacker!” Fitz-Hugh sneered.
“Chicken!” 99 sneered.
“99!”
“Sorry, Max.”
“My greatest desire is to volunteer for this assignment,” Fitz-Hugh said. “But there’s my trick knee.”
“All my life I’ve been grooming myself for this dangerous assignment,” Hassan said. “But, with my bad back, I’d muff it. For the Glory of the Grand Revolution, I’ll have to volunteer not to volunteer.”
“99, how about you?” Max said. ‘You don’t have a bad back. Or a trick knee.”
“Max, I’m a girl.”
“That’s even worse than having a bad back,” Hassan said. “With a bad back, you can at least put on a mustard plaster. But if you’re a girl, nothing will help.”
“Be on somebody else’s side,” 99 said testily.
Max shrugged. “All right, I guess I’m elected. Not that I really mind. It just so happens that danger is my bread and butter.”
“Fattening, eh?” Fitz-Hugh said. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that this time. There’s very little chance that you’ll come out of this assignment alive. So, big deal if you put on a few pounds.”
“What exactly is the assignment?” Max said.
“You’ll make a delivery to the Government Building,” Fitz-Hugh replied.
“Well, that seems simple enough. What will I deliver?”
“A bomb.” Fitz-Hugh turned to his follower. “Bring in the bomb,” he said.
The follower left, and returned a few seconds later with a basket of fruit. There was a bomb in the center of it.
“Isn’t that a little obvious?” Max said. “Won’t the guards at the Government Building get a little suspicious when they see that bomb in the middle of the basket of fruit?”
“Naturally,” Fitz-Hugh replied. “That’s what we want. You see, it’s not the bomb that’s really a bomb. The bomb is only a decoy.”
“Oh.”
“When you enter the Government Building, of course, a guard will see the bomb in the middle of the basket of fruit,” Fitz-Hugh went on. “He’ll stop you and say, ‘Excuse me, sir, but isn’t that a bomb you have there in the middle of that basket of fruit?’ And you’ll reply, ‘Well, bless me, so it is. I wonder how that got in there?’ Then the guard will say, ‘I’m sorry, sir, but there’s a rule against carrying bombs into the Government Building.’ At which point, you will take the bomb from the basket and hand it to the guard and say, ‘Well, I certainly don’t want to break a rule, so will you hold this for me until I come out?’ The guard, of course-”
“Don’t tell me,” Max interrupted. “The guard will accept the bomb, and I’ll rush out of the building, and a moment later the bomb will explode-right?”
Fitz-Hugh shook his head. “All wrong. You haven’t been listening. I told you-the bomb isn’t a bomb. It’s a decoy. You see, when the guard takes the bomb from you, he’ll think it’s safe to let you enter the building-little knowing that it is really the banana that is the bomb.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Fitz-Hugh’s follower said. “It’s the apple that’s the bomb.”
Fitz-Hugh glared at him. “It’s the banana-or maybe the orange. But not the apple.”
“I’m positive, sir, it’s the-”
“Who’s Generalissimo around here!” Fitz-Hugh raged.
The follower cringed. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re absolutely right-it’s the banana.” Then, lowering his voice, he said to Max, “But I wouldn’t try to peel that apple, if I were you.”
“Never mind the details right now,” Max said to Fitz-Hugh. “Just give me the general plot. What happens after I get by the guard?”
“You enter the building,” Fitz-Hugh said, “and you, quick-like, pull the stem out of the banana. That detonates the bomb.”
“Generalissimo,” 99 said, “a banana doesn’t have the kind of stem you can pull out.”
“Then try the orange,” Fitz-Hugh said. He shot a quick, antagonistic look at his follower. “But not the apple,” he said to Max. “Let’s not have any question about who’s Generalissimo around here.”
“Right. I pull the stem from the orange. Then I put it down somewhere. And while the delayed-action timer ticks away, I make a hasty escape.”
“What delayed-action timer?” Fitz-Hugh said. “The bomb goes off instantly. When you’re running a revolution, there’s no time to waste, every minute counts.”
“Uh. . then how do I get out?” Max said.
“Through the roof.”
“Do you mean to say that there’s actually no chance of me getting out of there alive?”
“Welllll. . that depends. How good a runner are you?”
“Not that fast,” Max replied. “I’m afraid, Generalissimo, I’m beginning not to care much for this assignment.”
“It’s a great opportunity for you,” Fitz-Hugh said. “You’ll meet a lot of highly-placed people on your way up through the roof. I’d give a year of one of my follower’s salary to have the chance that you’re getting. But. . my trick knee, you know.”
“Maybe you’d like to go along for the ride,” Max said. “I could make room for you.”
Fitz-Hugh shook his head. “It’s your honor. I wouldn’t dream of butting in.”
“Me, neither,” Hassan said. “My trick knee, you know.”
“No, you’re the one who has the bad back,” Max said. He reached into the basket and picked up the orange. “Let me get this straight, now,” he said. “I walk up to the guard-”
“No, no,” Fitz-Hugh said, “you let the guard stop you. Don’t walk up to him. That would make him suspicious.”