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seemed finished.
"And?" Remo asked.
"And what?" the Master of Sinanju said.
"What happened to Songjong?"
Chiun seemed puzzled by the question. "I told you. He went off to ply his art
elsewhere."
"So what about Daniel?"
"Daniel the Nuisance thrived in the court of mad King Nebuchadnezzar. Of
course he fell out of favor in time and was thrown into a den of lions, as you
are annoyingly aware, thanks to that Christian almshouse where you wasted your
youth. He claimed after his safe deliverance that the God of Israel sent
angels to shut the lions' mouths. It is more likely that the animals did not
like the taste of ham."
"So that's it?" Remo asked. "We hold a three-thousand-year-old grudge against
Daniel just 'cause he outfoxed us?"
"While that is more than enough," Chiun said, "there is another moral..." He
arched an eyebrow.
His age-speckled head tipped ever so slightly in Smith's direction.
The CURE director had remained hunched over his computer throughout the story.
With the sudden silence, however, he raised his gray head.
"What is it?" Smith asked, brow creasing.
"Little Father, Smith isn't out grazing on Folcroft's back lawn," Remo said.
A look of dark anger settled on the old Korean's weathered face. "Of course he
is not," Chiun said. "A shallow grave awaits the dastard who would suggest
such slander. Emperor Smith is clear of eye, mind and spirit. Hail Smith.
Sinanju serves on bended knee the ever wise guardian of the Eagle throne."
A hint of embarrassment colored Smith's ashen cheeks. "Thank you, Master
Chiun," he said. Clearing his throat, he returned to his work.
When Smith's head was bowed once more, the Master of Sinanju turned angrily to
Remo.
"Are you as mad as this one?" he hissed in Korean. "Never tell the lunatic
that you think he is a lunatic."
"I don't think he is," Remo insisted, also in Korean.
"Do not make me question your sanity, as well, Remo Williams," the old Asian
said.
"Give it a rest, Chiun. Smith isn't, wasn't and never has been crazy. If you
think I'm going to ditch him like Songjong ditched Nebbitynuzzle, you can
forget it. Smith's going to have to keel over for me to leave."
"Bah," Chiun said, waving a bony hand. "That time has passed."
Remo frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Listen," the Master of Sinanju instructed, nodding to Smith.
Confused, Remo pitched his hearing toward the CURE director. He heard the
tapping of Smith's fingers on the keyboard. Beyond that he detected the strong
heartbeat, a congenital heart defect having been corrected by a pacemaker
implant some six years previous. There was nothing more.
"I don't hear anything," Remo said.
"Precisely," Chiun replied. "A year ago it was there. Two years ago it was
stronger still. The dark cloud of life's end had settled. Once there were the
creaks and sputters of a man ready to welcome death. Now that is all gone.
Look at him toiling like a man ten years his junior."
Remo had noticed it before. Smith had seemed infused with new vigor. He had
assumed it was wishful thinking.
"It's the kid, isn't it." It was a statement of fact, not a question.
Chiun nodded tightly. "At this rate Smith will last many more years. I might
not be here when comes the time for you to choose your next emperor. Of
course, we could remove the mad middleman by having this modern Nebuchadnezzar
committed to his own asylum. Smith could live out his remaining years in
dignity, safe under the watchful gaze of Sinanju here in Fortress Folcroft. In
the meantime, the Regent could assume his throne with us at his side."
"A perfect plan." Remo nodded. "Except Smitty won't go silent into that good
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straightjacket, his wife would have to have him committed and wouldn't, and I
won't go along with it and neither will Howard."
"Yes," Chiun agreed. "The Prince is aggravating in his lack of ambition. I
blame the old one. They are like two white peas in a pod." He sighed
unhappily. "Thanks to his presence, Smith's natural end is now many years
away. I can only hope that if I am not here when the time comes that you do
the right thing."
"Right thing will be to leave, Little Father. No Master shall work for an
Emperor's successor. It's in the rule book, loophole or no loophole."
Chiun's papery lips thinned. "Do not be certain," he said cryptically. "Thank
the gods I had foresight to anticipate your obstinacy."
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