"She would have to be as old as the hills by now," Remo breathed, looking out at Honolulu basking in the midday sun.
Smith cleared his throat. "I suppose you would like to visit her?"
"Try and stop me," Remo growled.
"She is dying. She can do us no harm if you are discreet."
"Why are you doing this?" Remo asked suspiciously.
"Call it a gesture of good faith. I am at a dead end in the search for your progenitors. Sister Mary Margaret may be able to put your mind at rest."
"If she knew anything, she would have told me long ago."
"Did she ever tell you she caught a glimpse of the man who left you on the orphanage doorstep?"
"Who told you that?"
"MacCleary. Back at the beginning. Since she failed to recognize the man, it didn't matter. It was a dead end."
"Tell me where she is."
"Oklahoma City. Our Lady of Perpetual Care Home for the Infirm. Ask for a Sister Novella. Tell her you are a friend of Conrad MacCleary."
Remo grunted. "A nursing home. No wonder I never heard different. She might as well have been in prison."
"You should waste no time, Remo. I am reliably informed she is at death's door."
"Don't sweat it. I can hardly wait to get back to the U.S.A. Chiun has some godforsaken place called Hesperia on my itinerary."
And Remo hung up.
Sneaking out of the hotel, he hailed a cab and got on the first standby flight to the U.S.A., figuring he could reach Oklahoma City from any spot in the country. But once Chiun caught up with him, all bets were off.
He wasn't followed. This made Remo suspicious. He wondered where the Master of Sinanju had disappeared to. It wasn't like the old reprobate to be so easily fooled.
But as he flew to San Francisco, Remo prowled the aisles several times, searching the faces of the other passengers. None of them were Chiun.
The first-class stewardess wondered if the seat next to Remo was empty.
"You're the flight attendant," Remo said. "You should know."
The stewardess took Remo's surly growl as an invitation. "Do you live in San Francisco?" she asked.
"No."
"Visiting? I could show you the town!"
"It's a stopover. I'm going on to Oklahoma City."
"I have a third cousin twice removed in Oklahoma City! I haven't seen her in years. Tell you what, I'll take the rest of the month off and we'll do Oklahoma City together."
Remo made his face sad. "Actually I'm going to a funeral."
"Wonderful! I love funerals. So does my cousin. Maybe we can find a date for her, too."
"Are you listening to anything I'm saying?" Remo asked. "I'm going to a funeral and I'd like to be alone with my thoughts."
The stewardess rested a soothing hand on Remo's own. "I understand perfectly. I'll just sit here and give you silent emotional support."
"Get lost," said Remo. Setting his seat back all the way and closing his eyes, he let himself sink into blackness.
A STURDY MAN with a bull neck and merciless black eyes rose up from a plane of darkness all but invisible against a deeper blackness.
"I am Nonja," he said, his voice the croaking of a bullfrog.
"You can call me Remo."
"I mastered the sun source at an early age, but all my life I lived in ignorance."
"The Great Wang said you know about my father."
"I had a son. His name was Kojing."
"I think I heard of him."
"I had to come to this Void before my ignorance was banished," Nonja intoned. "Know this, O white-skin."
"Master Kojing lived in the Choson Kingdom era," said Remo. "That much I remember because Persia and Egypt were no longer clients, and there wasn't much work for the House."
"Master Kojing had a secret. Do you know it?"
"If I did, I forgot it long ago."
"You must try to remember. It is very important."
"Sorry. I give up. Tell me about my father."
Nonja frowned deeply, his dour face falling into fleshy gullies. "Kojing will tell you this. For I must go."
"That's it? I don't have to fight you?"
"No, you do not have to fight me," said Nonja.
"Good," said Remo. "Not that I couldn't take you." And without warning, Nonja swept Remo off his feet with a sweeping kick to his ankles.
"Hey! What was that about?" asked Remo from the plane of darkness on which he sprawled.
"It was about never dropping your guard. Your Master should be ashamed of you."
"Hey, I just wrestled the Father of All Squid. I'm bushed."
"Be grateful then I did not strike a death blow, big foot."
"Wait! What about my father?"
Master Nonja crossed one ankle before the other. His legs scissored apart at the knees. Dropping into a lotus position before Remo's sprawled form, he dropped into the black plane of the Void and out of sight.
WHEN REMO WOKE up, the stewardess was still holding his hand lovingly. She smiled dreamily.
"You talked in your sleep."
"Did I make sense?" Remo asked.
"No. You were adorable. I could have listened all night."
"It's day."
"That was an invitation." And the stewardess favored Remo with a blatant wink.
Excusing himself, Remo went to the rest room and locked himself in until he heard the landing gear whining down from their wells and the passengers stir from their seats.
Slipping among the exiting passengers and walking low behind a lady who weighed more than a baby elephant, Remo managed to slip past the sentinel stewardess and off the plane unseen.
Changing planes, he found all flights to Oklahoma City full.
"I'll fly standby," Remo told the redheaded clerk. She gave him an inviting smile. "Every flight is absolutely, positively filled to capacity until tomorrow. At least."
"I'm in a rush."
The clerk leaned forward. Her lips were almost as red as her hair. "I'd be happy to put you up at my place until tomorrow," she purred. "I have a very comfy sofa bed. It sleeps two. Three if you're adventurous." She winked.
"I have to go out today."
"In that case," the clerk snapped, her face reddening, "you can walk for all I care." She slapped a Closed sign on the counter.
"Damn," muttered Remo. "Since when did Oklahoma City become so popular?"
Going to the gate, he tried to bribe his way onto the flight. One passenger expressed interest, but changed his mind when Remo found he had only thirty dollars and two ancient coins on him.
When a male steward happened by, Remo got an idea. Digging into his wallet, he pulled his Remo Black sky marshal's ID card. It was a little waterlogged around the edges, but still readable.
Accosting the flight attendant, Remo showed his ID and said, "The federal government needs your cooperation."
"Sure. What can I do?"
"We have intelligence out of the Middle East there will be an attempt to skyjack the Oklahoma City flight. It's booked solid, and I have to get on board without alerting the terrorists."
"How can I help?"
"I need your uniform."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm going to take your place. It's for the safety of the passengers and crew."
When the man hesitated, Remo told him. "If you're not on the flight, you're not likely to catch a stray round."
The flight attendant squared his shoulders bravely. "If it's for my country, I'll do it."
Five minutes later Remo emerged from the men's room and boarded the flight unchallenged.
It was a smooth flight. He only had to step on the toes of one smitten stewardess to discourage her. And he picked up two hundred dollars in tips and assorted phone numbers and propositions on crumpled napkins from female passengers.
He kept the money. The napkins he threw away.
Chapter 17
Everywhere he went, Sunny Joe Roam saw death. They lay sick in their hogans. They sprawled in the hot sun drinking again, drinking heavily to kill the pain and numb the mind to that fact that they were doomed. They were all doomed, Sunny Joe saw. Even himself, if he stayed. Death hung in the very air. Men shivered unnaturally in the 130-degree heat.