Max Smart Loses Control
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An original novel about NBC Television's hilarious super-spy Maxwell Smart from the TV series Get Smart.
That’s something.” “Max, that isn’t what I want out of life,” 99 fretted. “What are we going to do?” “How should I know?” Max asked. “Ask Hymie. He’s the agent-in-charge. He got us into this, let him get us out.” “Max, it wasn’t Hymie’s—” “99,” Max interrupted, “the agent-in-charge must assume full responsibility. If I were in charge, I’d be glad to take the blame for this. And I expect Hymie to do the same.” “If it’s my responsibility to get us out,” Hymie said, “will you do what I tell
that. But I spotted it for what it is the instant I saw it. That’s because I’ve seen the same thing several times before. That’s the benefit of experience, Hymie.” “But what is it, Max?” “Well . . . let’s see . . . I’ve seen so many of these mechanisms, in time, they all begin to look alike. It might be a napalm spray. Or, on the other hand, it could be a mind-destroying laser beam. Yet, come to think of it, it might be nothing more than an automatic sprinkling system. Although—” He looked
and Number One had been rescued—and, after checking in, he intended to begin a two-week vacation, which, as he saw it, he amply deserved. Max halted at the door and knocked. “Give the password,” a voice replied from inside. “It’s me, Chief,” Max said. “Enter.” Max opened the door and stepped into the office. 99 was there, too, seated beside the Chief’s desk. “I’m sorry I forgot the password, Chief,” Max said. “You didn’t, Max. That was it.” “What was it?” “ ‘It’s me’—that’s the
shook his head. “Max,” he said, “do you remember exactly when it was that Number One began grinding out love poetry?” “Of course,” Max replied. “We were all there. No, come to think of it, 99 wasn’t present. The way it happened was, Hymie and I were slipping up on Ways and Means, and all of a sudden my telephone began ringing. We found out later that it was at about that time that Number One went haywire.” “That’s the way Number One described it,” the scientist said. “You mean she’s talking
Max?” “Right. And it proves my point.” “How, Max?” “Without an intelligent human being around to turn it on, that automatic pilot wouldn’t be worth the nuts and bolts and transformers it’s made of,” Max explained. 3. AS SOON AS the helicopter had delivered Max and 99 safely to the Control secret airport, they got back into Max’s car and drove toward the industrial district, where the Krunchy Knutt Candy factory was located. They left the car about a block from the site, then proceeded