"Sinanju is pleased to serve," Chiun said simply.
"Full payment will be tendered to you upon your leave-taking of Moo. A leave-taking I and my daughter beg is not soon."
"I have not discussed this with Remo as yet," Chiun said.
"Actually, we can't stay long," Remo said in Moovian. The High Moo frowned. The Low Moo gasped.
"What Remo means," Chiun inserted hastily, "is that we have responsibilities elsewhere. Other clients. None so generous as you, of course. But it does not mean that we cannot pass the span of, say, one moon on Moo."
"So be it," said the High Moo, mollified. "The full moon saw the end of the octopus cult. The next moon will see your going-unless you change you mind before then."
"All things are possible on Moo," Chiun said, bowing.
"Have you any requests?"
"My son has not yet breakfasted. I would like to prepare for him his favorite. I will need lemons and eggs."
"And I could do with something for my nails and beard," Remo added, showing his hands.
Chiun looked at Remo's hands curiously.
"You should have cut them before we left America," he said under his breath.
"I thought I did," Remo shot back.
And Chiun allowed himself a tiny smile of satisfaction. They were in the royal dining room, a roofless cubicle in one corner of the palace, when a steaming kettle of egg-lemon soup was brought in by a topless cook. Remo was relieved to see it wasn't the old woman from the feast this time, but a comely maiden.
He said, "Ola." The girl smiled shyly and began to fill a wooden bowl.
Another girl came in with a handful of objects. Remo saw a couple of bone knives and a fist-size stone.
"What's this stuff?" he asked, tasting the soup.
"You asked for these," the girl replied, kneeling at his feet. She took one of Remo's hands and examined the nails critically. The cook took one of the other knives and approached Remo from the other side.
"Looks like I'm in for the Moovian version of a shave and manicure," Remo said, pushing his soup aside.
Chiun frowned. "Do not forget your soup," he said evenly, pushing the bowl back under Remo's nose.
"It can wait," Remo said, eyes on the sinuous bodies hovering over him. They smelled nice too, he noticed. Like coconuts.
"No," Chiun said suddenly. "The other thing can wait. Shoo, shoo!" he said to the maidens. "Come back later. My son has fought a hard battle and needs to replenish his strength. "
The native girls fled the room on bare feet. "Hey! What's with you?" Remo demanded.
"You must eat first. Keep up your strength."
"I like to set my own priorities," Remo growled, his unhappy face watching the girls scurry down the corridor.
"Eat," said Chiun.
Reluctantly Remo started in on the soup. After a few tastes he was greedily devouring it, the girls of Moo forgotten.
"I can't seem to get enough of this stuff," he said.
"I will tell the hens to continue laying," Chiun said blandly, "so that you do not run out for the duration of our stay here."
"We can't stay here a whole month," Remo protested.
"We are due a vacation. This will be it."
"What if Smith needs us?"
"Then he can summon us, as always."
"How? There aren't any phones here."
"How is that my fault?" Chiun squeaked. "According to my contract, I am permitted to vacation where I will. Nowhere does it say that the Master of Sinanju is obligated to call ahead to see if there are telephones at his chosen retreat. Besides, I did not know the number of the High Moo."
"Smith is going to be very upset," Remo cautioned.
"Let him be upset. If he complains, I will tell him that he is not the only worthy emperor in the world. He has a rival, the High Moo."
"I don't think he'll appreciate that. And what happens after the thirty days?"
"Who can say?" Chiun said mischievously. "Thirty days is a long time from now. We live in an uncertain world. Anything is possible. Moo sank once. Perhaps America will be next. Then you will thank me for bringing you to this lovely land."
"Dream on," said Remo, starting in on his second bowl. After he was done, Remo said, "Okay, call back the girls."
"For what?"
"For these," Remo said, showing his nearly half-inchlong nails.
Chiun took Remo's hands in his. "If you let them grow, soon they will curve inward like mine."
"Not interested," Remo snapped, withdrawing his hands.
"Why not? We are on Moo now. You no longer have your lame excuse not to grow them long."
"Chiun, I'm supposed to be an agent for my government. I gotta blend in with the natives, so to speak."
"Now that you are on Moo, you can blend in with Moovian natives."
"I don't see any long-nailed people on Moo either."
"Nor do I. But where we are now, Emperor Smith's absurd secrecy mania is not in effect. We walk this land known for what we are, admired for our work, and honored for our skills. Wear your nails with pride, Remo. Who knows, you might come to like them."
"No chance," Remo snapped, grabbing up a sharp knife. He attacked his left hand with the serrated edge. The blade dug in and Remo made furious sawing motions. Dust rose up. Remo paused. To his chagrin, he saw the nail was intact. And the knife had lost its edge.
"Hey!" he said, looking up. He noticed that Chiun had been bent over his shoulder, watching intently. "Look at this. "
"Ah, wonderfully strong."
"Are you kidding? This knife's a joke."
"I meant the nail."
"Maybe I can find a metal knife."
"Not on Moo. All metal is saved for coins and jewelry. And you have ruined a knife of the finest bone."
Remo looked at the knife. It was white and polished. And over a foot long.
"Wonder what kind of animal they have on the island to make a knife this long?" he wondered.
"The fiercest, most dangerous one," Chiun said.
"Yeah?"
"Man."
Remo dropped the knife. "This is a human bone?" he asked.
Chiun picked it up. "Yes, and from the freshness, I would say it was made from the femur of one of the octopus worshipers we vanquished last night."
"They use human bone for knives?" Remo said in a dumbstruck voice.
"Hush, Remo. How many times have I told you never to criticize another empire's way of doing things?"
"But human bone. It's barbarous."
"That is easy for you to say, you who come from a land where everything is wasted. Do you know that I have a steamer trunk full of perfectly good toothpicks that careless waiter persons tried to throw out simply because they had been used once?"
"They were made to be used just once. It's unsanitary to reuse toothpicks."
"They are washable. On Moo, toothpicks would be handed down from generation to generation by people who know the value of property."
"I give up," Remo said. "If you'll excuse me ..."
"Where are you going?"
"I left my shoes back at the grove."
"You can retrieve them when we leave-if we leave."
"No ifs about it. We're leaving. In a month."
"Before you waste your time, examine your feet."
"For what? Athlete's foot?"
When Chiun didn't answer, Remo sat down and pulled off a sock. His toenails were very long. Too long to accommodate his shoes.
"Damn!" he said. "How'd you know that?"
"Perhaps I am psychic," Chiun said with a smile.
"I'm going after my shoes anyway," Remo said, pulling on his sock and storming out the door.
"I will join you."
"Suit yourself," Remo growled.
Chapter 23
Remo stepped into the blinding tropical sun of the palace courtyard. The courtyard was empty. The ashes of the feast sifted in the breeze. The smells of meat clung to the air. They offended Remo's sensitive nostrils.
Chiun materialized beside him. "Where is everybody?" Remo asked.