Reva Bleem's shoulders slumped; her face fell, revealing great, great sadness; and she sobbed. Remo felt her move into his arms.
"We were a poor family. I had to work since I was nine years old. And I thought finally I had enough money for all of us. And now, this. This. And he's killed people too. What am I going to do?"
"I'm not a businessman," said Remo. "But I would say these bodies have to be buried. The families have to be notified. The police have to be notified."
"Is that what you would do?"
"No," said Remo. "I'd just leave."
"Can I do that?"
"Sure," said Remo. "If you show me where all the fast-breeding bacteria are."
"They've got to be here. Everything is in this one factory. He wasn't supposed to get this stuff done for ten years. It's the first thing Wardley ever did ahead of schedule. He usually can't mail a letter."
"Are you sure all of it is here?" Remo asked.
"Oh," said Reva. "Oh, no. Don't tell me."
Pulling Remo behind her, she ran into the office section of the complex and looked around for a computer terminal.
Chiun had followed them. One of the telephones was ringing and Reva answered it.
"For you," she said, handing the phone to Chiun. 119
Chiun took the telephone and Remo said, "Who would know you're here?"
"Possibly someone with taste," Chiun said.
Reva went to the terminal and began operating the computer. She typed in questions, and the computer answered them. Remo tried to follow the terminal action and Chiun's conversation at the same time. Reva's head kept shaking, leaving the beautiful black hair with tremors at the ends, as her lips pursed and she kept mumbling, "The idiot."
Chiun kept saying, "Yes. Quite so. Quite so. You seem to understand, Your Highness. You seem to understand. Quite so. Quite so."
And then after almost two minutes of "Quite so," Chiun said, "Can you phone back again? In a few minutes. Yes, gracious one."
"Is that Smitty?" Remo asked, whispering low enough so Reva's ears could not pick up the question.
"No," said Chiun.
"I was wondering how he would have found out we were here."
"He didn't and we were fortunate," Chiun said.
Remo glanced back at Reva. Her head was still shaking, and she kept muttering, "The idiot."
"Remo," whispered Chiun, "we have just received an offer from one who must be royalty, for he made us an offer we cannot refuse. Now I must insist we stop squandering the talent of Sinanju on a man who refuses to become emperor of your backward country. I must insist we leave that lunatic Smith to his insanity and take the one offer that understands the basic needs of an assassin."
"I've got to finish this job," Remo said.
"Do you know what he has offered us?"
"No," Remo said. "You talked to him, not me."
"What do you want?" asked Chiun.
"Come on, what's the offer?"
"That is the offer. Whatever we want. Gold, oil, companies, gems, horses, land. An offer from a king. A true king making an offer to a true assassin."
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"I want to finish what we're in."
"But what do you want, Remo?"
"I don't know," said Remo honestly. "I don't know, and I haven't known for years, and I don't think I'm going to know. I used to think I wanted Sinanju. And then when I had it, when I really had it and grew in it, it was just there. I used to think I wanted to help my country, and I guess I still do. But I don't know."
"So after this assignment, we can say yes?" asked Chiun.
"I don't know," Remo said.
"I am saying yes."
The phone rang, and Remo heard Chiun giving the shopping list of Sinanju demands, all to be delivered to the little North Korean village on the West Korea bay. It was where Smith delivered Chiun's shipment of gold every year.
Chiun had always said the gold was "enough, but not a joy."
Now Remo could see joy on the face of the Master of Sinanju. Chiun lapsed into Korean. Obviously the other person knew Korean. Then there was medieval French. Chiun knew that from the tales of the Masters of Sinanju who had served Frankish kings. And then a singular look of worry came over the parched, frail face of Chiun.
"Just a moment," he said and turned to Remo.
"Remo," he whispered. "This noble, benign regent has offered to double our tribute if we agree to serve him now."
"No," said Remo, watching Reva punch something into the computer.
"You can't say no. It is double everything we want."
"You can't double everything," Remo said. "If you have everything you want, doubling it won't improve it."
"Teach philosophy to a white and this is what you get," said Chiun, his voice cracking in a squeak. He went back to the phone, and in a few moments he returned with an ultimatum.
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"If you do not accept this now with me, we are through. This divine perfection of an emperor has just offered triple what I demanded. It will be the largest payment ever brought in triumph to Sinanju since the Great Wang was Master."
"I've seen Sinanju," Remo said. "You just store most of that junk, or the villagers steal it when you're not there. And no one goes hungry lüce in the old days if you don't bring back tribute. So what triple are we talking about?"
"My feelings are what we are talking about. My pride is what we are talking about. Your pride. Our Sinanju," hissed Chiun.
"This is the first time you ever said it was our Sinanju. I mean, I was always this white foundling that you so graciously poured all this wisdom into, this pale piece of pig's ear from which you could never get respect and gratitude."
"Now you can do it," Chiun said.
"After," said Remo. "Maybe," he added.
"I cannot tell this emperor no. Not after what he has offered," Chiun said.
"Then don't tell him no."
Remo saw Chiun straighten himself in dignity and give a little polite bow to the phone.
"Your most gracious Majesty," said Chiun, "I cannot accept your offer at the moment. I will do that. I will ask him. Whatever he wanted you will provide. I heard that, Your Majesty. What then do you wish to be called if not 'Your Majesty?' Yes. I will do that, although I will always consider you royal. Yes. Goodbye, Friend."
"Was that Friend?" Remo asked.
"Yes," Chiun said. "You know him?"
"He was that English twerp's boss. He's the guy we were looking for. He's the one behind all this."
"Rumors," Chiun said. "Just rumors. He is the most treasured of rulers."
Reva jumped from the computer terminal. "Damn. 122
Do you know what he's done? Do you know what Wardley has done?"
"I don't know him. I just got here for his death," Remo said.
"He's already shipped a consignment of the rapid-breeder bacteria. If it gets loose, it can wipe out the world's oil reserves."
"We've got to stop it."
"Of course we do," Reva said. "I can't produce Poly-pussides for less than a pump price of fifteen dollars a gallon. I'm just not ready."
"And it will create a world of midgets too," Remo said.
Reva waved a hand, dismissing that as a consideration.
"That doesn't matter," she said. "What's worse is that my fuel win kill half the world's population until the survivors get used to breathing differently. Marketing says human survival has never hurt any product, but I just can't get it over with a fifteen-dollar pump price. We've got to stop that shipment."
"Is that the only one?" Remo asked.
"The computer says it is."
"Let's go," Remo said.
"You go yourself," said Chiun. "You have let me down as never before. I don't know where I have gone wrong. I don't know why I deserve this, but deserve it I must. Leave me and my poor possessions to die on this island far away from my home, knowing how close I came to the glory tribute of Sinanju. Go. Don't mind me."