“Are there any questions?” The Professor asked.
A freshman rose. “What’s for dessert tonight?” he queried.
“You’ll never know, young man,” The Professor replied. “For questioning me, you will be sent to bed without dessert. Now, are there any more questions?”
There were no more questions.
“You’re a bright group,” The Professor smiled. “A group that asks no questions is obviously a group that knows all the answers. Now,” he continued, “we will leave the auditorium and I will take you on a tour of the classrooms.”
The Professor hobbled down off the stage, then hobbled toward the doorway.
Frank Sadwell called the group to attention. Then he marched the freshmen off behind The Professor.
“99, look for a place to plant the explosive,” Max whispered.
“Max, there just isn’t any place out here on the grounds. We’ll have to wait until we get inside.”
Max sighed. “That means we’ll have to listen to a stuffy lecture.”
“Maybe we’ll be lucky, Max. Maybe we’ll find a place to plant the explosive before we get to the classroom.”
With The Professor still hobbling along in front, the freshmen entered another building.
“Max! Look!” 99 said. “Up ahead. There’s a table. And on the table is a bowl of flowers.”
“Yes. Very nice,” Max replied. “Daisies, aren’t they?”
“What I mean is, Max, you can drop the explosive into the vase.”
“Good thinking, 99.”
As the group approached the table, Max reached into the black satchel and got out a pellet.
At that very moment, however, The Professor came abreast of the table. “Halt!” he croaked.
The group stopped.
“Goldenrod!” The Professor raged, indicating the flowers in the vase. “Goldenrod is terrible for my hay fever!”
Frank Sadwell rushed up, lifted the vase from the table, then smashed it on the floor. “Frank Sadwell, senior freshman, at your service, sir!” he saluted.
The Professor smiled toothily. “I like you, Sadwell,” he said. “You smash a nice vase.”
Sadwell saluted again. “My only desire is to serve you faithfully, sir!”
“From now on,” The Professor said, “you can call me ‘The’.”
Once more, Sadwell saluted. Then, with The Professor still in the lead, the group proceeded.
“Too bad, Max,” 99 sympathized.
“Yes,” Max scowled. “I hate to be mistaken like that. I was positive those were daisies.”
“Max! Look!”
“Again, 99?”
“Up ahead, Max. There’s a rubber tree. See-planted in that wooden tub. You can drop the pellet into the tub!”
“Good thinking, 99!”
As they approached the rubber tree, Max palmed the pellet, preparing to drop it into the tub.
But, at that moment, The Professor cried, “Halt!”
The group pulled up.
“Goldenrod!” The Professor raged, indicating the rubber plant. “Goldenrod is terrible for my hay fever!”
Frank Sadwell, rushed up, hefted the tub above his head, then dropped it to the floor, smashing it to splinters.
The Professor smiled toothily. “What I said before goes double, Sadwell,” he said. “Except that now you can call me ‘T.P.’.”
“Thanks, T.P.,” Sadwell grimaced.
“Forward!” The Professor croaked.
“Too bad again, Max,” 99 said.
“Too bad? 99, don’t you realize what this means? I’ve been vindicated. If The Professor doesn’t know a rubber tree from a goldenrod, then he surely doesn’t know a goldenrod from a daisy. I was right the first time.”
“But, Max, you haven’t planted the pea.”
“There are times, 99, when a man would rather be right than a pea planter.”
A few seconds later, The Professor led the freshmen into a large classroom. A class was in session. But the instructor gladly turned the floor over to The Professor.
“This is our advanced weapons class,” The Professor said to the freshmen. “That doesn’t mean that the class is advanced. As a matter of fact, the class is behind. It’s the weapons that are advanced. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly clear,” Max replied.
“No dessert for you tonight,” The Professor snapped. “A good freshman speaks only when spoken to.” He addressed the group again. “The weapons you see in this classroom,” he said, “are the weapons that are available to KAOS agents for combating Control agents. Each model represents a new scientific advancement. The weapons are sent to us by KAOS’s Research amp; Development Department. And, after I have modified the weapons, they are used by the students for training. Are there any questions?”
The freshmen remained silent.
“There must be a question,” The Professor insisted. “I’ll bet not one of you knows what ‘modified’ means. Who knows what it means?”
Not one hand went up.
“Then why don’t you ask questions!” The Professor raged.
Max put up his hand. “I have a question, sir.”
“Hah! Caught you!” The Professor grinned craftily. “For that, you’ll go without dessert tonight. Didn’t I tell you-no questions!”
“You took away my tonight’s dessert before,” Max pointed out.
“Don’t be a nit-picker,” The Professor said. “Nobody likes a nit-picker. And, just to show you what a warm, kind, compassionate human being I am, I’ll let you have your dessert tonight and I’ll also answer your question. ‘Modified’ means changed.”
“Does that mean, sir,” Frank Sadwell said, “that after R amp; D develops these scientific weapons, you change them?”
The Professor smiled upon him. “I like a boy that asks questions,” he said. “Yes, that’s what it means. The fact is, R amp; D ruins these weapons with a lot of new-fangled gimcracks. They’re not dependable. It’s my job, as I see it, to build Dependability into them, after R amp; D leaves it out. Does that answer your question?”
“Perfectly, sir,” Frank Sadwell replied unhappily.
“You’re a jewel, lad,” The Professor smiled. Once more he addressed the entire group. “I’m going to demonstrate some of these weapons,” he said, grinning mischievously. “And I’ll need a volunteer, someone to take the part of the Control agent, the victim. Who could pretend to be a Control agent?”
The freshmen stood still and silent.
“It won’t hurt,” The Professor cackled impishly.
Frank Sadwell took a step backwards.
“Not you, dear boy,” The Professor said. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“I stepped backwards, sir. That’s tantamount to declining the invitation twice.”
“Good thinking, boy. This could be dangerous.” Again, he spoke to the group. “Come now-a volunteer.”
Frank Sadwell stepped sideways, placing himself directly behind Max.
“Surely, one of you could pretend, just for a few minutes, to be a Control agent,” The Professor urged.
Pushed from behind, Max stumbled forward.
“Oh, you think you could be a Control agent, do you?” The Professor said suspiciously. “Frankly, I consider that a little suspicious. No KAOS freshman who was worth his salt would ever want to be a Control agent-not even make-believe.”
“I was pushed,” Max explained.
The Professor waggled a finger at the group. “Our volunteer has just illustrated a very important point,” he said. “Never believe anything a Control agent says. I’ve never seen it to fail. When a Control agent volunteers, every time, he’ll claim he was pushed.” He peered past Max at Frank Sadwell. “Isn’t that right, boy?”
“The dirty dogs,” Frank Sadwell replied grimly in agreement.
7
“The important thing is, now we have a victim, someone to take the part of the enemy agent,” The Professor said. He looked Max up and down. “You look a little familiar,” he said. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”
“Yes, sir. You’ve seen me right here,” Max replied. “And, every time, you’ve taken away my dessert.”
“If you’re that kind of student, you deserve everything that’s coming to you.” He stepped to the instructor’s desk and picked up a weapon, a pistol. “This-” he began.