"They must learn to want less, so that they will suffer less," Lao-Tzu returned.
"But," said Shea:
Lao-Tzu frowned, recognizing his own words. He answered:
"Yet who would be less likely to act for the purpose of living," said Shea, "than one who has already been dead?
Lao-Tzu smiled. "You forget the end of the verse:
"True," Shea admitted, "but who would know that better than a king who has already been dead, yet is now restored to life?"
Lao-Tzu frowned. "This is true. But would he therefore live as a sage, that his people might follow him into virtue?"
Shea spread his hands. "What man can, who has taken up the responsibilities of living among other people? Surely you don't think he should try to deny those commitments!"
Monkey stared up at him, frowning, puzzled.
By way of explanation, Shea added:
"Should not a king emulate the Way?"
Lao-Tzu smiled. "Will a king who has been saved from death, from the penalty of his own mistakes, emulate the Way?"
"I should think so," Shea replied, "for if he has been brought back to life, wouldn't he be like a newborn babe? And:
"So wouldn't someone who is like a newborn babe, embrace the fullness of Virtue?"
It was lousy logic, and he knew it, but it might work.
But Lao-Tzu knew it, too. His eyes twinkled with amusement, and he said, "His chances, at least, are greater than those rulers who have never experienced the Afterlife—and there is a reason why I should wish to see this king live again, which you may not know."
Shea frowned; he did not like secrets, unless they were his own.
Lao-Tzu clapped his hands, and a disciple appeared beside him, holding a little box. The sage took it and handed it to Shea, saying, "Herein is a tiny flask, containing one drop of the Life-Restoring Elixir. See that it is used only for the King of Crow-Cock—and do not let this truant touch it." He nodded at Monkey.
All the way back to Earth, Monkey was muttering: "Truant! What does he think he is, the old fool! Thirty-third Heaven! Jade palace! Who preached the virtues of simplicity, anyway?"
It was a very bumpy ride.
Monkey pried open the jaws of the corpse, and Shea upended the tiny bottle over the gaping mouth. A single shimmering drop fell in. Monkey shoved the jaws closed and wiped off his hands in disgust.
The bloating began to diminish, and the blueness faded.
"It's working!" Shea stared.
"Unbelievable," Chalmers was muttering beside him. "Absolutely unbelievable."
"Is it really?"
"Oh, I believe it! Here, at least!"
The pallid flesh began to turn tan again. The bloating was completely gone now; the body before them lay gaunt. The cheeks gained a flush, the nostrils quivered ...
With one convulsive shudder, the King of Crow-Cock sat bolt upright.
"Father!" his son cried, and threw his arms around the older man. Chalmers reached down to pry him loose, saying: "Give him air," and the prince let go and leaped back with alacrity.
The King put out a hand to prop himself up and sat panting and looking about him, wild-eyed. "Never was air so sweet!"
"Have you learned Virtue, then?" Tripitaka asked.
"Virtue, and humility!" The King turned to bow to the monk. "Let me carry your baggage, Holy One! That I may learn the ordering of the state for the good of my people, through submission to the Way!"
The prince stared, amazed, but Monkey stepped up and said, "Just as well. How else are we to smuggle you back into Crow-Cock, eh?"
So they came into the palace, with the prince marching smartly at their head to open doors. Sentries sprang out of his way and bowed, and the whole entourage followed—especially the middle-aged man in the center of the procession, who was bowed under a load of bundles.
Pigsy was grinning from ear to ear—carrying the baggage was usually his job.
But at the doors to the throne room, the guards crashed their halberds together. "The King sits in judgment!"
"I must speak with him instantly!" The prince did not slacken his pace for a moment. "Step aside!"
They hesitated only a fraction of a second; after all, who was going to be their boss when the old man died? They yanked their halberds back and pushed the door open.
The prince strode into the throne room.
The King looked up, then waved away the petitioners and jumped to his feet, scowling. Shea shuddered—it was eerie, seeing the same face that he had just restored to life. "What is the meaning of this?" the King thundered.
The porter straightened up, dropping his bags. "It means that I have come to reclaim my throne, and you are unmasked!"
Time stood still while the two kings stared at one another.
The hesitation was all Monkey needed. He sprang at the false king with a howl of rage, swinging his cudgel.
The imposter whirled to him, gesturing, and Monkey's cudgel cracked against something unseen with a shower of sparks. The sorcerer sprang into the air and soared out the window, his form blurring as he went.
The prince cheered, with Pigsy and Sandy backing him up.
But Tripitaka was shouting, "He must not escape! Or he will brew unparalled mischief!"
"I go, Master!" Monkey cried, and a cloud appeared right next to him. He sprang upon it and shot out the window.
Shea ran to the opening to watch. Chalmers, Pigsy, and Sandy were right behind him.
They saw the cloud whirl up to head off the fleeing sorcerer. Lightning flashed from him toward Monkey, but the simian deflected it somehow, making it rebound toward its source. Before it could reach him, however, the sorcerer had changed into an eagle, and was soaring higher on an updraft. Monkey changed into a dragon, beat up higher than the eagle, and pounced.
The eagle dropped like a stone, changing as it went. By the time Monkey's claws closed around it, it was a sparrow that darted between the dragon's talons and went arrowing right back toward the window it had come from.