Damn. I should have realized this was Crete. But even a thread won't save me now. Goodbye, Little Father. I hope wherever I'm going I'll meet my mother.
And in his mind's ear he heard the crisp, no-nonsense voice of Sister Mary Margaret repeat the legend of Theseus; With only simple thread, Theseus retraced his way out of the labyrinth of the Minotaur and found salvation.
That's it! That's what I missed.
Furiously Remo attacked the quarter-sized hole at the end of the tunnel. Volcanic rock turned to powder under the hydraulic force of his compressing fingers. The water became gritty to the touch.
When Remo broke through, he shot ahead like an arrow, against the current. He was down to ninety seconds of usable air. If he was wrong, it would all be over soon. He would lose control, thrashing and flailing like an insect as his body surrendered to the inimical watery environment it was never meant to plumb.
One minute of oxygen remained. He began counting the seconds as he reached out to use the jagged roof to pull him along. A few more yards, he thought. If I'm right, it's just a few more yards.
He was out of oxygen when his questing fingers lost all purchase.
He shot upward and felt the blood rush from his head and brain. Everything started to go dark.
He was wondering how it could get any darker since he was already in impenetrable darkness when he completely lost consciousness.
WHEN REMO AWOKE he found himself floating. And breathing.
For a moment he wondered if he could be dead. But the coldness of the water and the sweet-stale tang of cave air told him otherwise. He drew in a full double lungful and charged every lobe of both lungs.
"I'm alive," he whispered.
Hoisting himself out of the pool, Remo used his bare feet to feel for the body of the fallen Minotaur. It was gone. Only the coarse-haired head remained.
Remo picked it up and tucked it under one arm. It wasn't much of a trophy, but it was better than facing the Master of Sinanju empty-handed and wearing complete failure on his face.
When Remo emerged from the sea cave, the Greek fishing trawler still lay at anchor. And the Master of Sinanju stood stiff-faced at the entrance, his hands tucked into his scarlet kimono sleeves.
"I thought you said you'd meet me at the exit," Remo said.
"And I have kept my word," said Chiun.
"You pointed south when you said that," Remo said hotly.
"And if I had scratched my nose instead, would you have emerged from one of my nostrils?"
"That's not funny. I came this close to drowning."
"Master Nonja nearly drowned too. But he did not and you did not and that is that."
"This is Crete, isn't it?"
Chiun looked pleased. "Kriti." He gestured to the object tucked under Remo's arm. "And I see you have bested the Minotaur."
Remo lifted the bull's head to the moonlight. For the first time he got a clear look at it. The head was definitely bullish. It was also hollow and made of hardwood covered in scratchy black fur. Its nostrils were twin bovine flares, and the horns were tipped with hammered silver. The eyes were two polished gems that reflected the moonlight with a greenish-red smoldering.
"It's only a stupid helmet."
"Do not insult the proud skull of the mighty Minotaur," said Chiun, snatching it from his pupil's fingers.
The Master of Sinanju carried it down the shore and stepped on a black horn of volcanic outcropping. A shelf cracked open, revealing a boxlike cavity into which he deposited the Minotaur head.
When Chiun took his foot off the horn, the shelf dropped back into place, showing no seam.
Remo pointed an accusing finger at him and exploded, "You were the Minotaur! You made your heart and lung action sound different, didn't you?"
"I admit nothing of the kind."
Chiun padded past him toward the waiting trawler. Remo followed angrily.
"That's why there was no body when I came back. You'd taken off."
"Next you will tell me that I was also the Santa Claus of your youth."
"Santa didn't visit the orphanage much," Remo said glumly. "You old fake."
"Rest assured that the Minotaur will live again if there are any Masters of Sinanju after you or I."
Remo went on. "The water tunnel was a circle. If I broke through from either direction, it would lead me back to the pool and the Minotaur."
"Gi the Lesser realized this without having to break the labyrinth. Now you have ruined it for future Masters."
"Sue me."
They entered the water and got on the boat. Chiun didn't object, but the Greek sponge captain didn't look very happy when he saw the wet footprints Remo tracked all over his deck.
As they beat back toward Athens, Remo laid himself out among a coarse pile of dragnets and said, "I don't think I would have made it without Sister Mary Margaret."
Chiun eyed him coldly. "Why do you say that?"
"I heard her voice telling me how Theseus did it. He used string."
"If you had employed string, you would have cheated."
"That's not the point. She said Theseus used string to retrace his way out of the labyrinth of the Minotaur. Not to find the exit. But to retrace the way he came. That meant the entrance was also the exit."
"That is obvious," Chiun said in a chilly voice.
"Even then, I couldn't be sure. But there was another way I figured it out."
"And what is that?"
"I remembered you pointed south. You didn't say the exit was south. You just pointed. That meant technically you didn't lie to me."
Chiun said nothing.
"I knew if my life was at stake, you wouldn't lie," Remo went on. "You wouldn't lie to me about something that important."
And the Master of Sinanju went to the bow and stood there like some troubled figurehead, staring across the Aegean toward Athens, where the floodlit Acropolis gleamed like an ancient pharos.
Among his nets, Remo Williams succumbed to sleep and dreamed fitfully.
HE FOUND HIMSELF FACING a pleasant little Asian man dressed in the garb of rural Korea. They were in a place of rolling hills touched by the pink blossoms of the flower known as rose of Sharon in the West, which the Koreans called mu-gang-hwa.
The man greeted him with the ancient and traditional greeting of the Korean countryside. "Pam-go-sso yo?"
"Yes, I have had rice today," Remo answered in his best Korean.
"Good," said the pleasant little man. He smiled. It was an infectious smile despite the man's lack of a full set of teeth. Remo couldn't help but smile back.
So when the pleasant little man tried to take Remo's head off with an unexpected snap kick, Remo was caught off guard. He evaded the strike only because his body was trained never to be caught unawares.
"Hey! What's your problem?"
"I am the second."
"The second what?"
The little man bowed politely. "My name is Kim."
"Big deal. So's every third Korean's."
"Your reflexes are exquisite," said the little Korean pleasantly.
"Thanks. Why did you try to kill me just now?"
"I wanted to see if it was true what they say."
"What's true?"
"That a big-nose, round-eyed white had mastered Sinanju."
"What's it to you?" demanded Remo.
"It is a point of family pride."
"What family are we talking about?"
"Your family." And the little man dropped into another bow. He bowed so low he vanished from sight with a tiny pop like a cork letting go.
WHEN REMO WOKE AGAIN, he got up and found the Master of Sinanju watching the lights of Athens from the bow.
"What was the name of the second Master of Sinanju?"
"I have taught you that," Chiun said coldly. "You should know."
"Was it Kim?"
"There were many Masters named Kim. 'Kim' is a common name in my land. It means metal. It is like your 'Smith.'"