Smith was uncomfortable discussing Mark’s abilities. They were so undefined, so unquantifiable that one could only use terms like extrasensory perception and precognition to name them. Those terms had been applied for years to charlatans and quacks. Smith was unsure about the nature of Mark’s abilities—although there was nothing fake about them.
In the same way, Smith had never satisfied himself about the nature of the crisis in the Pacific Ocean. An elder god of the lost continent of Mu? It was the stuff of bad documentaries from the 1970s. Still, Master Chiun’s myths of Sa Mangsang had held true throughout the crisis, including the worldwide mental disturbances that worked destructively on Mark Howard.
Smith felt sudden alarm as he made the connection. Could Mark’s nausea and emotional distress be coming, again, from Sa Mangsang—whatever Sa Mangsang was?
The Masters of Sinanju had assured Smith that the gargantuan creature was withered and weak, and had gone down with its ancient island into the Pacific waters to begin again the aeons-long restorative sleep. But how could he trust their understanding of this creature? Chiun was superstitious. Remo, at times, was less than brilliant.
And Sa Mangsang—whatever Sa Mangsang was— had been an influence on the world even through its period of convalescence. Minds around the planet had always been affected by the creature.
Maybe Mark Howard just had a virus.
The giant squid in the Chicago Tribune article hovered before Smith’s vision. A squid eye was visible. It didn’t look intelligent, the way the eyes of a marine mammal can look intelligent. There were those who claimed cephalopods were extremely intelligent, and that man was simply too limited in his creative scope to find ways of communicating with the more alien cephalopod mind.
Smith idly wondered what kinds of thoughts were inside the mind of the Chicago Giant. Was it suffering in its confinement? Was it capable of being angry at its captors? Was it smart enough to have an agenda?
Smith, not a superstitious or imaginative man, knew the creature had been following some sort of a command or signal when it was captured. Were the signals broadcast in real time through the oceans, or were they orders—given, received and remembered by the squid?
Was the Chicago Giant still waiting, even now, to carry out the orders of Sa Mangsang?
About the Authors
Warren Murphy’s books and stories have sold fifty million copies worldwide and won a dozen national awards. He has created a number of book series, including the Trace series and the long-running satiric adventure, The Destroyer.
Richard Ben Sapir worked as an editor and in public relations before creating the Destroyer series with Warren Murphy. Before his untimely death in 1987, Sapir penned a number of thriller and historical mainstream novels.
