.  Oil on the Rocks

99 turned to the Chief as he began picking up the aftermath of Max's bullet.  "I can't believe you fired him."

He carried all the junk out of his office and put it in a box in the lobby.  "If Max calls don't answer it."  He said to Larabee as he carried the box passed the reception desk.  Larabee nodded in obedience.

"But Chief," she reasoned, her anger for her husband subsiding.  "You know how long he's been working for CONTROL.  Besides he doesn't know how to do anything besides espionage."

The Chief thought about it for a minute.  After all Max was probably the most loyal agent they had, not to mention the clumsiest.  He rarely asked for a raise.  The Chief even secretly thought of him as a son.  A beady-eyed, over-zealous, sarcastic, whiney, klutzy and slightly dim-witted son, but a sun nonetheless.

"Alright," he said at last.  "But I'm not going to offer him his job back.  He'll have to come and ask."

"Where's Max?"  Asked a monotone voice behind them.  They turned to see a tall figure framed in the doorway.  An emotionless expression was plastered on his face.

"Max isn't here Hymie," 99 said.  "What do you want?"

"I wanted to borrow some oil."

"Well, since I won't be needing this for my car, thanks to Larabee, you can have the rest of this."  The Chief pulled out a half empty quart container from under his desk.

"My hinges have been squeaking."  Hymie explained, and to drive the point home he lifted his right arm making an ear-piercing screech.

"They both nodded their heads in agreement.  The Chief walked over to the small martini tray that stood in the corner of his office.  He picked up a little shot glass and poured some of the oil into it.

"Do you want anything with that?"  He asked Hymie.

"On the rocks would be nice."

The Chief nodded and pulled out a few paperclips a bottle cap and a metal bold out of his desk drawer and plopped them into the glass along with the oil, then handed the concoction to Hymie, who proceeded to drink it.  He then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said:

"Thanks.  I needed that."

"When was the last time Prof. Windish gave you a tune up?"  99 asked.

"Two months ago.  But all he did was…" he began unbuttoning his shirt.  "…fix a few wires and tighten a bolt or two."  His shirt now open he pushed the center of his chest opening a compartment.  "Some of my circuitry needs to be replaced."  He indicated the cavity in his chest, which held small blinking and gears on a large circuit board.

"That really too bad."  99 patted his shoulder as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Take this stuff out to the trash bin for me."  The Chief handed Hymie the box of junk.  "And shake a leg would you."  Hymie lifted one foot and waved it back and forth.

"No, no.  I mean hurry."

"Oh."  And he left.

The Chief watched him leave.  "Hymie's great to have around but I sure wish he wouldn't take things so literally."  Right now I think I should explain something to you.  (If you haven't already figured it out.)  Hymie isn't a normal human being.  He was originally an android built by KAOS as a machine to do their dirty work for them.  But when Max treated him like a real person instead of just a stupid robot he decided to turn to CONTROL for work.  Not as an agent but as a bank of information and a janitor.  That is after IBM rejected him.

"I'm going home and wait for Max."  99 said as she picked up her purse and walked out the door.  "I have to tell him something.  See you tomorrow Chief."