Remo sighed. No wonder she and Chiun seemed to get along so well. When they chose, neither could understand English.
"All right," said Remo. "To the lengths!"
Remo figured himself a winner by at least twenty-six lengths. This was preordained by some of the first training he had received when he entered the world of CURE and Chiun.
Women, Chiun had warned Remo on that long-ago occasion, were warm-bodied animals, like cows, and as cows would give more milk if they were kept contented, women would give less aggravation if kept in the same state. However, he explained, a woman did not get contentment as a man did, through the pleasures of his intellect or his work. Women must be kept contented through heart and emotions.
"That means they're less worthy than men?" said Remo.
"That means you are stupid. No. Women are not less than men. They are different from men. In many ways, they are more than men. For instance. One can frighten an angry man. But no one has ever been able to frighten an angry woman. See. That is called an example. Now. Stop interrupting. Women must be made content through heart, through emotion. In this country of yours, that means by sex because women are not allowed to have any other emotions in this country, lest they put her name in the newspapers and everyone will point her out as a freak."
"Yeah, yeah, right, I've got it," said Remo who did not have any of it.
Then followed Chiun's thirty-seven steps toward bringing a woman sexual bliss. He cautioned Remo that these lessons were just as important as learning the correct method of the flutter stroke with the back of the knuckles.
Remo promised that he would practice Chiun's thirty-seven steps with great diligence and regularity, even as he did not practice the flutter stroke. But he found that when he had learned them, all thirty-seven, and was able to jellify women, he had lost almost all capacity for sexual pleasure. When he should be thinking about his own body, he was instead trying to remember if the next step was the woman's right knee or her left knee.
His training was also hindered by the fact that he had never gone past step eleven with any woman before jumping right ahead to step thirty-seven. He doubted that there was a woman in the world who could cope with steps twelve through thirty-six and keep her sanity, and when he asked Chiun about this, Chiun said that all thirty-seven steps were practiced regularly upon Korean women, and Remo did not feel inclined to make such a sacrifice just to perfect his technique.
Maria Gonzales had taken off her short skirt and panties and was lying back on the bed. The skin of her body was. as smooth and creamy as the skin of her face and Remo decided that whatever Maria Gonzales might be-spy, killer, revolutionary, agronomist, or left-wing twit-she looked like something more than just another assignment.
Remo moved alongside her in bed and quickly went through steps one, two, and three, which were merely to put her in the mood. Step four was the small of the back.
"Who's behind all these killings?" asked Remo.
"I do not know. What is the secret of Wondergrain?"
Step five was the inside of the left knee, followed by the right knee, and steps six and seven the perimeter of Maria's armpits.
"Why all this violence at Fielding's demonstration? Who hired the people to do it?"
"I do not know," said Maria. "How long have you known Fielding and what do you know about him?"
Step eight was the inside of the upper right thigh and step nine, the upper left thigh, closer to the heart.
"What can you tell me about what is going on?" asked Remo.
"Nothing," said Maria through tightly pressed lips. The word came out as a gasp. This time she did not ask a question.
Step ten was the mountain climbing of the fingers over the right breast. Maria's breath turned into sips of air. Her eyes which had watched Remo cagily now closed as her discipline weakened and she surrendered.
Good, Remo thought. She had held out a long time.
This time for sure. He'd get to step thirteen at least. The eleventh step was the slow trailing of fingers over the left breast to a peak which was hard and vibrant. Remo smiled. The twelfth step was next. He removed his hand from Maria's left breast. He began to move it down her body and Maria jumped into the air and clambered atop Remo, enveloping him, swallowing him up. Above him, her eyes flashed brilliant black and her lips bared her teeth in an involuntary rictus.
"To the lengths!" she screamed. "For Fidel!"
"To the lengths," Remo agreed dully. As she lowered her face to his neck to nip at it with her teeth, he shook his head slightly. That damn step eleven again. Someday he would. Someday, step twelve.
Maybe he was doing it wrong. He would have to ask Chiun. But there was no time to think about that now because he was deep, deep into step thirty-seven and he stayed in step thirty-seven a long time, much longer than Maria had ever been in step thirty-seven before and when that step was done, Maria collapsed off him and lay on her back staring at the ceiling, her eyes unfocused, almost glazed over.
"You didn't have anything to do with the killings?" Remo asked.
"No," she hissed. "I am a failure."
"Why?"
"Because I went to the lengths and you have not told me what I wanted to know."
"That's because I don't know anything," said Remo.
"Do not make sport of Maria, American. You are the keeper of the Constitution."
"Really, I don't know anything. If I knew anything, I would tell you."
"Several people who are the breakers of commodities… ''
"Brokers," Remo said.
"Yes. Brokers and contractors have been killed with Fielding. You know nothing of this?"
"Nothing. I thought you did." Something nagged at Remo. He remembered. Dead contractors. Jordan had mentioned that too before Remo had killed him but Jordan had not explained the contractors. Why contractors?
"Contractors?" he asked Maria. "What contractors?"
"Our intelligence people do not know. They think it may have something to do with Fielding's warehouse in Denver. I must see. I cannot fail my country."
"Don't be upset. There's always room for another Maria Gonzales in this hotel."
"I do not belong in this hotel. I am here to get the secrets of Wondergrain for my government."
"And if you fail, so what? I know Fielding. He's going to sell it so cheap it'll be like giving it away. Why pay for what's going to be a gift?"
"You do not understand socialist dedication," said Maria. She looked at him carefully. "Or capitalist greed."
"Maybe not." Remo was interrupted by a knock on the door. He rose lightly and went to the door, opened it and peered through the crack.
A man said, "I want to see Maria."
"You know Maria?" asked Remo.
"Yes. I was here last week."
"Wrong Maria," Remo said.
"I want to see Maria. I came up here to see Maria. I want to see Maria. I won't wait to see Maria. I have to see Maria now."
"Go away," said Remo.
The man stamped his foot. "I won't go away. I want to see Maria. You've got no right to make me stop seeing Maria. Who are you anyway? Let me see Maria and when we're done, we'll have bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches. On toast. I want a sandwich. With mayonnaise. On light toast. Whole wheat toast. They have good whole wheat toast across the street at Wimple's. I want to go to Wimple's. I have to have a sandwich. Why won't you let me go and have a sandwich? I'm going to Wimple's now and if they're all out of whole wheat toast, it'll be your fault for keeping me here talking. I'm hungry."
"What about Maria?" Remo asked. "Maria? Who's Maria?" asked the man and walked away down the hall, a walk that wasn't quite a walk but more of a cross between it and a bunny hop, the walk of a child who just knows there has to be a bathroom somewhere around and is determined not to wet his pants, because he'll find it. Remo waited a while before closing the door, lest Peter Rabbit change his mind and come skipping back. But when he heard the elevator door close at the end of the hall, he went back into the room.