He shook the thoughts away and threw down the pillow.
The lace of the tablecloth was starched stiff. His grandmother sat in a rocking chair, even at dinner.
He picked up the flight bag and went back to Lustbaden. Without a word, the doctor opened the door, and they walked into the long corridor.
On the third day of Chanukah, when Richard was twelve years old, his grandmother had given him a silver Star of David on a chain. It had been just the two of them, sitting in Nana's darkened living room in front of her gas-fueled fireplace, so Nana had decided to teach him German. It was a hopeless experiment. Caan had never possessed a gift for languages. Still, he remembered the scene as vividly as if it had happened that very morning: little Richard, his hair combed back with water, sitting at his grandmother's feet, the silver Star of David sparkling in his hand. And Nana, her white hair glowing like a halo as she rocked back and forth, back and forth, repeating words in a strange, harsh language.
He didn't remember the words. All he recalled was the movement of her lips as she rocked, speaking in German, the words, the words...
What words?
"Is something the matter?" Lustbaden asked over his shoulder. He was standing several feet in front of Caan in the Great Hall. Caan realized with a start that he had stopped walking altogether.
He felt himself blushing from shame. "No, Herr Doktor."
"Move quickly, then. There is much to do."
"Yes, sir."
Two guards met them at the entrance to the cave and escorted them outside. Farther down the airstrip, gathered around the F-24, Lustbaden's full contingent of SPIDER corps soldiers stood at attention.
The lepers were milling around in their village, buzzing in a state of high excitement. Several of them were clustered around Ana's hut, where the chief stood at attention, making discouraging gestures at curious villagers who tried to peek inside the doorway.
Lustbaden looked over the tableau, his eyes narrowing. "Just a moment," he said, leaving Caan on the airstrip with the two guards as he hurried toward the commotion.
The lepers scattered when he approached the hut— all except for Ana, who sat motionless on the ground, and Timu. The chief stood tall and straight, his muscles taut, the veins in his neck throbbing, his nostrils flaring with suppressed fear.
"What are you hiding?" Lustbaden demanded abruptly.
Some of the lepers scurried into their homes. Others backed away, whispering among themselves. Lustbaden heard the word Zoran several times, spoken with the awe one attributes to a deity.
Timu crossed his arms silently over his chest and spread his feet to cover the entrance like some terrifying colossus.
"Move aside," Lustbaden said, and shoved Timu with all his strength. The chief didn't budge.
Lustbaden stepped back a pace, his anger evident. A hushed silence fell over the villagers. The doctor recognized his advantage at once.
"I am Zoran who speaks," he intoned so that all the village could hear. "I command you to let me enter."
Timu turned slowly to face him. "I have made my pact with one greater than you," he said. "You may not enter."
At that, the village seemed to burst with uncontrollable excitement. Even Ana looked up, nonplused by her brother's blasphemy. "Timu," she said softly, her voice a warning.
"Begone, Zoran," the chief said. He turned away from the doctor, his face as implacable as a stone carving.
"You filthy leper," Lustbaden spat. "You disgusting, subhuman vermin. How dare you speak to me with such insolence!" He drew back his hand and slapped Timu across the face.
The chief moved with the blow. He righted himself. Then, facing Lustbaden, he shoved the doctor with both hands into the dirt.
The villagers gasped. Women cried out. Ana skittered to her feet, her face a mask of terror. Lustbaden rolled to a sitting position, not bothering to wipe the dust from his face and white coat. His eyes were metallic, sparkling with hate. The half-moon smile was turned downward in a sneer of raw ugliness.
"Kill him," he hissed.
The SPIDER corps was already running toward the village. The two guards with Caan were closer, already kneeling, cocking their pistols. Caan stood beside them, watching.
Lustbaden screamed the command. "Kill him!"
Two bullets fired. Two wounds burst upon Timu's chest like bright blossoms. The chief staggered and fell.
"Timu," Ana cried, rushing to hold her still-breathing brother in her arms. The chief let her embrace him. "Oh, Timu, why?" she sobbed, rocking him. "Why did you speak against Zoran?"
His lips moved with effort. "I pushed him," he said wonderingly, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. "And he fell. Zoran is only a man, after all. Tell them... he is... only..."
He breathed once more, and then he died.
And the soldiers closed in.
?Chapter Nineteen
Lustbaden stepped past Ana and the body of her brother and stormed into the flimsy thatch hut. Harold Smith was inside, alone and unconcious.
The doctor kicked him hard in his side. Smith moaned in pain and shock, coming to with a ragged gasp.
"Where is the other?" he demanded. "The old Chinese?"
Chiun had been back in the rain forest for some time, but Smith, still groggy, mumbled only, "Don't know what you're talking about."
Lustbaden kicked him again. Smith bit down on his own hand to keep from screaming. The doctor stepped out of the hut. "Caan!"
"Yes, Herr Doktor."
His grandmother's face in the gaslight, rocking, whispering, whispering the words...
"Go, damn you!"
Caan took a few hesitant steps toward the airstrip, his head reeling in confusion. The mission. New York. Nana's brisket. The president. The Soviet premier. The starched lace tablecloth. The World Trade towers. The F-24. Nana's lips, moving, moving with the German words.
The two guards who had shot the leper chief took up their positions beside Caan. He stumbled toward the airstrip, choking with tears he could not understand.
"You remain here," Lustbaden called to the two guards. "The rest of you search the area for the old Chinese dwarf."
The soldiers hesitated. They were all staring behind Lustbaden. He turned to see Ana standing stock still behind him, her brother's knife poised in her hand.
She spoke softly, but with a fervor that made even the doctor stop cold in his tracks. "Monster," she said. "Murderer. You killed my brother with no more thought than you would have for swatting a fly."
"Put down the knife, Ana," the doctor said.
But she walked nearer, her eyes on Lustbaden's, the knife held ready for attack. "Murdering swine."
Behind her, the lepers muttered in agreement.
"Anal"
"You are afraid to die. I can see it on your face. Zoran, the great, the wise, the magnificent. Zoran is nothing but a-little man gone mad with power. But your power ends here, swine."
"Swine!" a voice called from the crowd of villagers.
He glared at the lepers, but Ana was coming still closer at the same steady pace. "Put it down, Ana. I do not wish to kill you."
She laughed, hard and bitter. "No, I imagine you don't. Who else on this island is there for you to whore with? Only me, the weak one who does all the dirty things you desire so that I can stay alive and out of pain."
Caan, walking to the airstrip, turned around to listen to the girl. She looked like a sleepwalker, her black hair streaming behind her, her arms outstretched, her knuckles white where they gripped the knife.
"But I have learned one thing, Zoran," she said. "There are worse punishments than pain. There are some things that are worse even than painful death. I do not fear you now."
"Nie wieder," Lustbaden shouted. The girl screamed. "Nie wieder!"