"It's a tiny island." Shane Billiken was talking fast, making up his facts as he went along. He needed this man. "Kind of a paradise. Just natives there. No army, no government. "
"Don't discount native fighters. I've seen well-armed professionals gutted by fishbone knives. I'd rather take a dum-dum slug in the face anytime."
"I have a ship, but I need a team. They have to know sailcraft. "
"How long a ship?"
"Actually, I haven't measured it yet. But the salesman said I'd need a five-man crew."
"I can deliver. But can you meet my price?"
"Sure, I'm loaded," Shane said enthusiastically. He regretted it a moment later when the man who advertised himself as Ed the Eradicator quoted a price that was five hundred dollars more than Shane Billiken's current bank balance. And that wasn't counting the money he owed on the boat.
Shane swallowed twice before he burbled, "No problem." What the heck, he'd make it all back soon enough if the cosmic flow went his way.
"When the money is deposited in my Swiss account, we have a deal."
"Give me the number. I'll make the transfer the minute we disconnect."
"Then you've got your invasion team. How soon do you want to move?"
"The ship is ready to sail. It's at the Malibu Marina."
"Give me a couple of hours to work out the details."
"Sure. One thing, though."
"Yeah?"
"Can you swing by my place? I could use some help with my luggage."
Chapter 15
The High Moo led the Master of Sinanju and his freed slave from the lagoon to the very heart of Moo. They walked up the long mangrove slope where coconut palms waved above expanses of steaming turtle grass. He led them past the rice fields. The farmers were called from their work by the royal priest. Remo noticed that they were very young. Most of them were children. They laid down their hoes and adzes and followed, chanting one word over and over: "Sinanchu! Sinanchu!"
Chiun beamed with pleasure.
"See, Remo? Proper respect. You would never see this in America."
"You don't see bare-breasted girls in America. And I don't see them here either."
"Have patience."
They were escorted to high eminence on the far side of the island. Here and there, great bamboo-framed holes gaped from the dark slope like the sockets in a skull.
"These are my metal mines," said the High Moo proudly. "The greater number of them lie beyond the city where the ground rises sheer from the water. There, workers dig for the metal that makes the coins which bear my visage."
"I have seen these coins," said Chiun. "They are very fine coins, wonderfully cast. And the likeness is remarkable."
"Thank you," the High Moo said proudly. "I knew that the coins my daughter carried would bring you here."
"Truthfully," Chiun returned, "I was not enticed by your coins, fine as they are. I came to meet the High Moo, to join again my house with your house in the bondage of happy service."
"Liar," whispered Remo in English.
"What does he say?" the High Moo demanded.
"I said, I'm anxious to meet the young maidens of your village," Remo replied in Moovian.
"He speaks Moovian?"
"I taught him a few words," Chiun admitted.
"I also helped," added the Low Moo.
"I'm a quick study," Remo said. And everyone wondered what the freed white slave meant by saying, "I'm a rabbit lover."
"Does he mean that he eats them or mates with them?" the High Moo whispered to his daughter.
"I have seen him do neither," she replied, looking at Remo. He smiled at her. She smiled back, her eyes on his moon-pale arms. She had thought him too tall before, but now his long lean limbs interested her. She would ask her father later to grant her a special request about the former slave.
"Come, I hear the fires crackling," the High Moo called. "And the meat is on the spit. We must hurry, for the sun is dying."
They trudged up as they grew near the central hill that dominated Moo.
Remo noticed there were many mosquitoes and sand flies, but they left Chiun and him alone. It was a side benefit of the Sinanju diet that neither of them seemed to attract insects.
At length they reached the high plateau that was the heart of Moo.
"This is my city," the High Moo said proudly. He spread his well-muscled arms expansively.
Remo saw thatch huts on the outskirts. Snapping black eyes regarded him through the reed sides. He saw no women, much to his disappointment.
The inner buildings were stone. None were more than one story tall. But the palace was different. Made of some kind of kiln-fired brick, it reared up two stories. It had glassless windows and a flat roof with a gazebolike superstructure that Remo realized was the tallest point on the island. A vantage point.
"It's breathtaking," Remo said in Moovian. His sarcasm was lost on everyone except Chiun.
Chiun shot him a hard glance.
"Do not be so smug. I have seen your Newark."
"I'll take Newark over this jungle paradise."
"Wait until you see the women."
"I'm waiting. I'm waiting."
"Come," said the High Moo. And he led them to the courtyard of the palace.
In the stone-paved open area, fires burned in rows of rectangular earthen pits. A woman bent over a steaming pot. A man was singeing the body hair of a wild pig by hanging it over an open flame by its hind legs. There were carcasses on spits.
"There is your woman, Remo," Chiun whispered. Remo craned to see over the heads of the escorting soldiers. He saw a brown-skinned woman bending over one steaming pot. She wore a long Hawaiian-style grass skirt. Her long black hair swished as she stirred the pot's contents.
When the sounds of their approach caught her attention, she faced them expectantly.
She smiled. She had three teeth. Her face was as wrinkled as a walnut shell and her bare breasts hung like goatskin bladders.
"There," Chiun said. "Go to her, Remo, and tell her that you have crossed a mighty ocean just to behold her loveliness. I am certain she will be flattered by your attention. "
"Very funny," Remo fumed. "She's not my type."
"A breast is a breast," Chiun said flatly.
The High Moo motioned for them to form a circle around the fires. He signaled for Chiun to stand beside him and for his daughter to claim the other side. She motioned Remo to her side. The remaining villagers completed the circle.
The royal priest appeared inside the circle. "Bring the throne," he commanded.
"It is a beautiful throne," Chiun told Remo. "Gold, with many jewels. And a footrest carved of a single block of white jade."
Two men in loincloths came out of the palace bearing a squat wooden box with short legs.
"Here comes the footstool," Remo said. "Doesn't look like jade to me."
"It is wood. No doubt it is your seat," Chiun said smugly.
The stool was set behind the High Moo. "The Shark Throne," he said imperiously.
Remo looked closely. The top of the stool was covered in some kind of gray hide. At each end there were rolled protrusions resembling ornamental cushions, except that they were made of some cracked gray hide. Remo noticed flat, lifeless eyes at either end of these rolls, and suddenly realized that the stool was decorated with the heads of hammerhead sharks.
Remo grinned as the High Moo sat down. "Good thing they cut off the fin."
The royal priest motioned for the rest of the circle to sit. "Before we eat," he intoned, "we will show our visitors the greatness of Moo."
"This is the ceremonial dance," whispered Chiun. "In its fluid motions are the entire history of Moo. We will learn much of what has transpired since the days of Master Mangko. "
"Wonderful," Remo groaned. "I'm half-starved and we have to sit through a six-hour folk dance."
But then the circle parted at two points and Remo suddenly sat up very straight.