CHAPTER 8

The Numbers Aren't Good

Meanwhile Santa Claus, Number One, the chief elf, and Chip, the computer ace, were going over a few things in the Planning Room
at Mission Control.

They studied a wall map. Mittens, Santa's orange cat, was on Santas shoulders. He seemed interested in the map too.

"Santa, the numbers aren't good," Chip said. "We have a record number
of kids this year and we just don't have enough reindeer power."

Santa chuckled. "Chip, you worry too much. I have a great team,
but we can always add one or two of the spare reindeer."

Mrs. Claus passed by. She cupped her ear to listen.

"One or two wont do it, Santa, even if we had them," Number One said. "Dr. Winters called me just before you arrived. An odd thing.
The spare reindeer are in the hospital sick."

Santa gasped. "Oh, dear! All of them at once? That's terrible!"

"And the sleigh is loaded to overflowing," Chip said. "If we added any more toys we couldn't lift off. Lots of toys have to be left behind."
He looked at his calculator. "The numbers aren't good."

"They certainly aren't, Chip," Santa said.

"Many places must be missed." Chip pointed at the map with a
baseball bat. "Here, here, and here. And there."

Santa Claus sank into an armchair with his head in his hands.
Mittens almost fell off his shoulders.

"But we can't let down any children," Santa moaned. "We can't!
You're the computer expert, Chip. Think of something. Anything!
We leave in fifty-six minutes. There must be something we can do."

Chip threw up his hands. "There isn't, Santa, and that's a fact."

After she heard this, Mrs. Claus hurried over to the hospital.

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