"I think the kitchen is closed by now. I'd like some fish, if you can get it without butter on it," Remo said.
"It is always a risk when someone else prepares your food," said Chiun. "You put their hands in your stomach. That is the risk."
"Smitty sent word earlier. There's some trouble. He'll be here in a couple of hours."
Remo opened the roof door for the Master of Sinanju. They descended the fifteen flights to their suite.
"Trouble? Emperor Smith faces trouble? Good. An emperor is always more reasonable when he is in trouble. The calm waters are starvation time for an assassin. For then he is cheated and reviled and disrespected. At times like these, we must compensate for those placid times."
"You're not going to hit him for another raise?" asked Remo.
"It is not a raise like some sweeper of dirt or planter of seed, but just an honest tribute to the House of Sinanju."
"Sure, sure," mumbled Remo. He knew gold was delivered by submarine to this village in North Korea, as stipulated in the agreement between Dr. Harold W. Smith, representing his organization, and Chiun, representing the village. This amount of gold-Chiun did not accept paper money considering it only a promise dependent upon the veracity of the sponsoring government-had steadily increased over the decade, the biggest jump coming most recently, when Chiun had insisted that the amount be doubled because Remo could now be considered a Master of Sinanju also, since he would one day succeed Chiun, and therefore the village deserved double compensation for double masters.
Remo shut the door of the suite behind them.
"Our tribute must be doubled again because…" said Chiun.
"Because why, Little Father?"
"I am thinking,"
"You'll find something."
"I detect anger in your voice."
"I don't think it's fair to Smitty."
"Fair?" said Chiun, his longer fingernails fluttering before him, shock upon his normally placid face. "Fair? Was it fair when Tamerlaine all but closed the East for productive work, during the reign of his descendants? Was it fair during the gruesome depths of European history?"
The gruesome depths Chiun referred to was the condition of Europe after Napoleon, when there was almost a century of peace interrupted by only one short war. And worse, there were no pretenders to thrones intriguing to unseat one king or another with the silent hand during the night. During those years, the rations were meager in the village of Sinanju.
"It may come as a shock to you, Little Father, but Smitty is not the Austro-Hungarian empire."
"He is white. I am only making up for what other whites have done to the House of Sinanju. How they have cheated the House of Sinanju."
"Nobody lives to cheat the House of Sinanju."
"There is cheating and there is cheating. If I pay you less than you are worth, which seems impossible, then I am cheating you. If I do this just because you are willing to take less, then I am still cheating you."
"When did this happen?"
"According to your calendar, 82 b.c., 147 a.d., 381 a.d., 562 a.d., 904 a.d., 1351 a.d., 1822 a.d., and 1944 a.d., the Depression."
"The Depression? There was a world war going on then."
"For the House of Sinanju that is a Depression. Everybody hires local talent."
"That's the draft," said Remo.
And Chiun explained that for the House of Sinanju, the good times were when there were small wars and rumors of wars, when societies verged on revolution and when leaders slept uneasily because of nagging thoughts of who might depose them. These were such times and as the Master of Sinanju, it behooved Chiun to bargain effectively, for-as it always happened periodically-either a very fierce war using amateur help or a deep and severe peace using no one was right around the corner.
"I wouldn't mind peace, Little Father, and each man dwelling in his home without fear of his neighbor. I believe in those things. That's why I work for Smitty."
"That is all right, Remo. I am not worried. You will grow up. After all, you have only been learning for a few short years now."
And once again Chiun repeated the tale of Sinanju, how the village was so poor that for lack of food the newborn were not allowed to live and mothers had put their babies into the cold waters of the bay, until Sinanju sent out its masters to save the lives of the children.
"Think of that when you want peace," said Chiun righteously.
"That hasn't happened for more than two thousand years, Little Father," said Remo.
"Because we did not think like you," said Chiun, equating Remo's desire for peace with murdering the babies of Sinanju. Chiun would no longer discuss this with someone who had been given the secrets of Sinanju, a white no less, and then had turned his back on the cries of little children.
At 3 a.m. precisely, Dr. Harold W. Smith arrived, gaunt, grim-faced, with a lemony purse to his lips. In a collage of gaudy tourist fashion, his gray suit and vest and striped Dartmouth tie stood out like a tombstone at a birthday party.
"Glad to see you're looking well, Smitty," said Remo, assuming that this was well, since he had never really seen Smith any other way. Once, seven years before, Remo thought he had seen Smitty smile. The thin lips had risen slightly on both sides, a barely perceptible altering of the facial muscles. Remo had smiled back until he had found out it was caused by a toothache. Smitty had put off seeing a dentist.
"Remo," said Smith by way of greeting. "And Chiun, Master of Sinanju."
Chiun did not answer.
"Is something wrong?" Smith asked.
"No," said Remo. "Business as usual."
Chiun turned. "Hail, Emperor Smith," he said. "Oh, glorious defender of the great document, the holy Constitution, wise and benificent ruler of the organization. The Master of Sinanju regrets not observing you properly at the outset, but my heart is troubled and my soul is deeply rent for the problems that beset your poor servant."
"We already increased the gold allotment to Sinanju," Smith said.
"Quite so," said Chiun, bowing. Remo was not surprised to see him accept this rebuff so cordially and easily. He knew Chiun had merely shifted his approach, not his purpose.
"We'll have to talk here," said Smith. "We can't use the roof, which is usually safest. Police are all around. Somebody jumped to his death or was pushed."
"Yeah," said Remo, looking at Chiun.
"How horrible," Chiun said. "Life becomes more dangerous every day."
Smith nodded curtly and continued. The problem was so grave that if they did not solve it, all the work of the organization since its inception might as well not have happened at all. Smith spoke for ten minutes, avoiding specifics in case there was a bug in the room.
From what Smith had said, Remo surmised there was now a system under which witnesses could be protected. With this system, prosecutors around the nation had begun to make significant inroads into the organized crime structure. It was the most successful program so far of the organization, and within five years could cause the syndicates to crumble because they could not hold the loyalty of their members without assuring them reasonable safety from jail. With this system, the top men in these crime structures were no longer safe. An aide could be promised immunity and a new life for testifying. The code of silence, omerta, was being broken daily.
That was, until recently. Somehow someone had found a way to get to the witnesses. Three in one day.
"Hmmmm," said Remo, seeing more than a decade of work trickle away. The purpose of the organization was, quite simply, to make the constitution work. The very safeguards that protected the citizen also made it possible for well-financed destructive elements to become virtually unprosecutable. Had this continued, the nation would have had to abandon the Constitution and become a police state. So, many years before, a now-dead President set up a small group headed by Dr. Harold W. Smith. Its budgets were siphoned from other agencies, its employees did not know for whom they worked, and only Smith and each succeeding president would know it existed. For to admit that the government was breaking the law in order to enforce it, was to admit that the Constitution did not work.