"That's right," the Sunnie said.
Remo laughed. "I hope you're planning on renting out Shea Stadium for the mass divorce," he said.
"Actually, in those parts of the world where arranged marriage is the custom, divorce is low to the point of being nonexistent," Roseflower explained.
"Baloney," Remo said.
"It is true," the Master of Sinanju said with a nod.
Remo frowned. "Yeah, well, that's probably because you'd get your eyes gouged out by a witchdoctor judge if you even mentioned it," he grumbled.
The stands had been opened onto the field to allow mingling among the Reverend Sun's followers. Roseflower led Remo and Chiun down into the periphery of the crowd.
"Where is the Holy One?" Chiun asked as they walked along just outside the first base line.
"He is preparing himself for the ceremony," Roseflower said. "Your meeting will take place afterward. I thought you might wish to get a better view of the service. This is a good spot, I think."
The Sunnie stopped, still smiling, a few yards away from first base.
Remo looked around. A platform had been set up in the middle of the diamond near the pitcher's mound. It rose high enough above the heads of the many gathered bride-and-groom sets that it was visible from anywhere on the ground.
A few Sunnies were making last-minute preparations atop the stage. Women arranged flowers of yellow and white. The men tested the public-address system on the floral-painted podium. When Remo glanced back at their escort, Roseflower was smiling blandly at the proceedings.
Remo cleared his throat guiltily. "You know, this probably isn't the best time to tell you this, Rosebud," Remo said. He shot a glance at Chiun. "But I don't think we're who you think we are."
The Master of Sinanju scowled. "Of course we are," he insisted. Hazel eyes flamed. "Remo, hold your tongue."
"Chiun, maybe he's supposed to meet somebody important."
"Who is more important that I?" the old Korean demanded.
"I was sent for you," Roseflower interjected.
"No," Remo insisted. "It couldn't be us. No one even knows we're here."
"The Reverend Sun does. He knows all."
Remo raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Forgive me if this insults one of the basic tenets of your religious faith, but bulldookey."
"I do not understand," Roseflower said, his bland Midwest face clouding.
"Hokum. Bunk. Crap. Bullshit," Remo elaborated. "I don't believe in any of this fortune-teller malarkey."
Chiun grabbed Roseflower by the arm, steering him away from his pupil. "Do not listen to the heretic. If he blasphemes, it is merely the product of latent Catholicism. Perhaps Good Seer Sun might perform an exorcism," he suggested, shooting a hateful glance at Remo.
"I am confused. Are you not of the Sun Source?" Roseflower asked.
"Yes," Chiun said quickly.
"Ye-es," Remo hedged. "But not the way you mean it."
"See how he qualifies? It is a nasty habit learned at the feet of wimple-wearing dowagers."
Remo rolled his eyes. "What time are the nuptials?" he asked, surrendering to the two men.
His question was answered by a cheer from the crowd.
The roar started suddenly, at a point beyond the platform. It swept rapidly across the packed stadium like a thundering tidal wave.
Pale arms draped in white rose wildly into the air. Trailing pink ends of saris flapped liked flags caught in a crazed wind as the frantic screaming grew.
And the chanting began.
It was low at first, shouted only by a few Sunnies planted at strategic points in the crowd.
"Sun! Sun! Sun! Sun!"
Others around the few screaming men took up the cry. It spread like wildfire. Inarticulate cheering was soon overshadowed by the single, shouted word.
"Sun! Sun! Sun!"
Clapping gleefully, Roseflower joined the chorus of chanting voices. Veins bulged on his reddening neck as he screamed the name of the Sunnie cult leader.
Remo shot a look at the Master of Sinanju.
Chiun had not joined in with the crowd. His hands were tucked inside the voluminous sleeves of his sea-green kimono. Yet even though he did not cheer, his face belied his elation. Hazel eyes danced merrily as he stood on tiptoe, trying to catch a first glimpse of the Reverend Sun.
None of them had to wait long.
All at once, the head of the Korean cult figure began to rise siowly and majestically above the crowd. it was a perfect fluid motion. Sun did not mount the stage in the jerky fashion of someone climbing stairs.
A few dozen yards away from the cult leader, Remo's finely tuned ears picked up the sound of gears grinding over the crowd noise. Sun stood on a small elevator platform.
The shoulders appeared, then the rest of the torso. Sun wore his usual business suit. A white alb was pulled over the conservative blue jacket.
The robe was open in a wide V-shape that extended down to the gathered waist.
"Sun! Sun! Sun!"
The screaming grew more intense. The Sunnie leader reveled in the accolades of his wild-eyed disciples. He raised fat hands in a gesture of triumph above his head.
Everyone in the stadium had gotten to their feet. Men and women in the stands stood cheering, as well, their voices raised along with those on the field waiting to be married.
To Remo, it was like being in the middle of someone else's mad dream. He looked around at the sea of zombielike faces. Grinning, beaming. Screaming.
Even for someone like Remo, who had seen much that was alarming and horrifying in his life, standing in the midst of the crowd of frenzied Sunnie disciples was a truly terrifying experience. It was not a fear of injury or death. Remo had been trained beyond both of those childlike things, The frightening characteristic of the Sunnies was their blind devotion to a man whom the rational world knew to be a fraud.
At that moment-as he gazed out upon the sea of rabidly devoted disciples-Remo Williams knew that these demented followers would kill for their leader. Man Hyung Sun need only give the order.
"Friends in the Sun!"
The Reverend Sun's voice boomed out over his screaming flock. Flapping pink saris continued to wave victoriously as the Sunnie throng grew hushed.
"We are gathered here today for a most joyous occasion!"
The brides and bridegrooms cheered as one. Almost three thousand voices rattled across the stadium.
"We must remember that this occasion," Sun continued when the crowd had quieted once more, "while joyful-is also one most solemn!"
Remo sidled up to the Master of Sinanju. "Don't get in my way for the bouquet, Little Father," Remo warned beneath the continuing amplified voice of Sun.
"Must you make a mockery of even sacred ceremonies?" Chiun asked. He was still standing on tiptoes, trying to see Sun more clearly.
"Come on," Remo said. "This is about as sacred as one of Liz Taylor's weddings. In fact, she's probably here somewhere. Don't you find this all a little bit over-the-top?"
"It is not my place to question the wisdom of a holy man," the Master of Sinanju replied.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Sun was still speaking. Feedback squealed occasionally from the tinny speaker system as he continued with the mass wedding ceremony.
As the cult leader was lecturing his followers on the solemnity of the vows they would take this day, Remo began to notice an odd movement taking shape within the crowd.
He wasn't quite sure how he became aware of the men. It was as if some sort of internal trip wire had been struck.
When his unconscious mind steered his conscious mind to the strange intruders, he saw that there were six of them.
No.
Seven ...eight. Eight in all.
They wore white robes minus the blue sashes of the rest of the grooms. But these men had no brides next to them. These were not the only differences between the new arrivals and the grooms, however. These men were armed.