"I don't get it. Why bring that little guy into the campaign organization?" he asked.
"He is Korean. We must reach out to all people, all colors, if we are to win."
"You know, Ricky, no matter what you do, you're still a long shot."
Enrique Espiritu Esperanza laughed good-naturedly. "I do not mind being a long shot. Just so long as I am not shot before election day."
Harmon Cashman stopped licking. "Who the hell could be trying to kill you? It doesn't make sense."
"Perhaps someone who sees that I am a threat to the established order. You know, Harmon, that this state simmers with racial tension."
"Yeah, white people are petrified at the numbers of illegals coming across the border, and jealous of the Asians coming in from Hong Kong. The black people see their piece of the pie being gobbled up by everyone else. One day, it may just explode."
"Not if all these people come together."
"Never happen."
"What if they are brought together?" asked Enrique Esperanza, taking his empty brown fists and bringing them together, with a sound like tupperware containers bumping.
"By you?"
Enrique Espiritu Esperanza nodded. "By me."
"Look," Harmon said, "you got the Hispanic vote sewed up, if you stick with that. The white liberals will help. Yeah. Might even bring us in second. But you go after the black and Asian vote, and you're wasting your time. Hell, most of the blacks don't even vote. And the Asians are too busy holding down two-three jobs to have the time."
"Harmon, do you know why I chose Los Angeles County to launch my campaign?"
"Sure. Because its got a humungous Hispanic population. No mystery there."
"No. Because L.A. County is the blueprint for the future of this country. The black, Asian, and Hispanic populations are mushrooming. The white people are in decline. In twenty, thirty, perhaps fifty years, all of America will be like this."
Harmon Cashman paused in the act of separating an Oreo sandwich in halves, exposing the white creme filling. "It will?"
"These are the trends. I have studied them. Carefully."
Harmon Cashman put down his Oreo. He was from the South, had grown up in Virginia. He remembered the Old South. How intolerant it had been. He also remembered how much safer it had been.
Enrique Espiritu Esperanza went on. "White people, whom I call blancos, are growing nervous. They see their cultural dominance in decline. They fear for their future, and the future of their children and grandchildren. But there is nothing they can do. Immigration is immigration. New children are born every day, in all colors. Their skin colors happen not to be white."
"My God!"
"But there is a way to allay these fears," Enrique Esperanza added quickly.
"What? Tell me!"
"A new idea. One that is taking root all over. One that will erase these fears, all barriers."
"What? What is it?"
"Multiculturalism."
"Huh?"
"It is a brave new philosophy," Esperanza said. "I am not the candidate of color, but of hope. I represent the man who will lift up people of color, while at the same time protecting the blancos from the erosion of their estate in life."
Harmon Cashman frowned. "Sounds like Rainbow Coalition stuff. You sure you're not talking Rainbow Coalition? You know that won't fly with the electorate. Especially down in Orange County."
"No, it will not fly," Enrique Esperanza admitted. "But multiculturalism will."
Harmon Cashman's eyes went to the tiny wisp of a Korean then.
"Tell you what-you bring that little fellow in here and tell him that. Let's see if it goes over with him."
"Agreed," said Enrique Espiritu Esperanza.
The Master of Sinanju stared into the setting sun. It burned his tender features, wise with age. Never had he felt such pain. Never before had he been so wounded.
The mellow sound of Enrique Espiritu Esperanza's voice dispelled his pain like a soothing pool of light.
Turning, the Master of Sinanju padded into the room where the man called Esperanza waited with his white lackey.
"I am at your service," said Chiun, using polite words he did not feel.
"I am glad to hear this, because I have a favor to ask of you," said Enrique Espiritu Esperanza.
"Speak."
"I will be governor of this state in less than a month's time."
"If the people are with you," Chiun added pointedly.
"They are with me. With your help."
"As long as the Master of Sinanju stands at your side, you need not fear for your safety."
"And I do not. But I need more than that."
Chiun wrinkled his button nose. "I am no soldier, who volunteers to perform lesser tasks. You know what I am?"
"I do. And it is with that in mind that I make the following offer to you."
"Continue."
"I have yet to select my cabinet."
Hearing this, Harmon Cashman gulped. "Ricky . . . Think about this," he said hotly.
"I will soon be governor of the state with the largest economy in this country. An economy that is ranked as the seventh largest on the face of this earth. I need someone to attend to the financial concerns of this economy. Someone to handle the money."
Between anguished fingers, Harmon Cashman ground his bifurcated Oreo into crumbly bits.
"How much money?" asked the Master of Sinanju coolly.
"Billions," replied Enrique Esperanza.
"Continue," Chiun invited.
"The person who performs this task is called a 'treasurer.' "
"An honored post, since before Egyptian times."
"I would be honored if you would consent to be my treasurer," said Enrique Espiritu Esperanza.
The Master of Sinanju took in the words of the man called Esperanza. He saw a man of vision, of unsurpassed brilliance, one who knew the value of the House of Sinanju without being told. One who recognized greatness when he came upon it.
In this bitter hour, it was more than enough.
"I accept," said the Master of Sinanju, bowing deeply.
"I am honored," returned Enrique Esperanza, matching the bow.
Off to one side, Harmon Cashman groaned as if he'd been impaled by a Zulu spear.
"Now let me tell you how I plan to achieve this goal and bring us both to power . . . ." Enrique Espiritu Esperanza continued smoothly.
"It is called cultimulcherism," Chiun said into the telephone.
"Good for it," Remo said. "I've booked a room in the hotel. Forty-four D. Any time you feel like coming down, feel free."
"It will not be necessary."
"Okay, I guess we take turns guarding Esperanza then. When do you want to be relieved?"
"Your services will no longer be required."
"Cut it out, Chiun. For crying out loud. You don't speak for the organization. And until Smitty pulls us both off this one, I'm as stuck as you are."
"I am not speaking for Smith or for the organization," said Chiun testily. "I am speaking for Esperanza. I have joined his crusade in cultimulcherism."
"Never heard of it."
"In return, he has promised me the exalted position of Lord Treasurer of California."
"He what!"
"Where I shall rule in splendor, issuing wise decrees, and being appreciated by all."
"And skimming any small change that passes through your hands," Remo suggested darkly.
"Of course there is a magnificent salary attendant to this position," Chiun said loftily. "As befits one of my grace."
"Smitty won't like this, Chiun."
"I will leave it to you to convey my regret to Emperor Smith that our current contract negotiations have borne no fruit."
Remo said, "You're not quitting, are you?"
Silence.
"Chiun?"
"This is a decision I will make at a later date," Chiun said at last.
"How much later?"
"Possibly after the glorious day of election."
"Somehow I knew you were going to say that. But I gotta tell Smitty what you're up to anyway."