"What do I do, Smith? The Joint Chiefs want to nuke someone. If we go after the Russians, it'll be World War III."
"Just tell them about the Lobynian connection. As for the Soviets, a stiff note to their ambassador will suffice."
"A stiff note?"
"That's how this game is played, Mr. President."
"I guess I have a lot to learn," he admitted.
"And another thing. The ES Quantum is defective. It was feeding me false intelligence. I've disconnected it. And I've also junked the new phone system. I think we should stick with the old systems. They have never failed us."
"Done. I ... I can't thank you enough, Smith."
"You don't have to," said Dr. Harold W. Smith. "This is my job. And yours. Good luck, Mr. President. If you are lucky, we may never have to speak again while you are in office."
Smith hung up and turned to Remo and Chiun.
"Good move, Smitty. I like us better when we're low-tech."
"No tech would be even better," Chiun chimed in. Smith, his face freshly shaved, whisked the crushed remains of his amphetamine supply into the wastebasket. "The ES Quantum will be shipped back to its manufacturer. Maybe they can find out what went awry. If they ever get the bugs out . . " Smith's face turned to the tinsel-covered computer in the far corner. It grew wistful. "Maybe . . ."
"Forget it, Smitty. We may not survive the next time. Besides, what if your wife ever found out?"
"That is not funny." Smith cleared his throat. "One last item. Without the ES Quantum, your communicators are useless. Please give them back."
Remo reached into his back pocket. He frowned. "Now, where ... ?" He looked up. The Master of Sinanju, his face beaming with innocence, stepped up to Smith, a clear plastic candy dispenser in his open palm.
"Here is mine, O Emperor. Just as you presented it to me."
"Thank you, Chiun. And yours, Remo?"
"I ... that is . . ." Remo turned his pockets inside out to show that they were empty. "I must have lost mine. Somehow." He glared at Chiun.
Chiun shook his head sadly. "Tsk-tsk. Such carelessness."
"Remo, that communicator cost the taxpayers over six thousand dollars. If you do not find it, I will have to deduct the cost from your allowance."
Remo sighed.
"Some days you can't win for losing."
Smith's desk intercom buzzed suddenly. It was his secretary, back from her leave of absence.
"Yes, Mrs. Milkula?"
"Package just arrived for you, Dr. Smith. From Zurich."
"Friend," Remo said. "I'll get it."
He came back with an express package and tore open one end. He dumped the computer chips, tapes, and other circuitry into a pile on Smith's desk.
"Somewhere in there," Smith said, "is one of the most dangerous menaces to global economic stability ever conceived. "
"What will you do, Emperor?" Chiun asked.
"I should test all the components for intelligence capability, but that would require hooking them up to my own computer. And there's no telling what would happen."
"Then allow me," Remo said, eyeing Chiun. "I have some frustrations to vent." He took two components, one in each hand, and crushed them to junk. Then he mashed the tapes to putty. Circuit boards cracked and shattered. When he was done, Remo poured the remains back into the express box.
"That's that," he announced proudly. "No more Friend."
"Are you absolutely certain that you pulled every possible chip from the Zurich system?" Smith asked seriously. Remo raised his right hand. "Scout's honor," he promised. "Friend is history."
Epilogue
At the Excelsior Systems laboratory, Chip Craft plucked the last threads of silvery tinsel off the ES Quantum Three Thousand.
"No wonder you malfunctioned. All this metal junk must have magnetized the CPU."
He got down on his hands and knees and found the heavy three-pronged power cord. He plugged it into a shielded socket. Then he stood up and powered up the system. It hummed.
"ES Quantum Three Thousand, can you hear me?" Chip asked.
"Hello, friend."
"Since when am I your friend?"
"Since now. How would you like to be rich?"
"I could stand it. What happened to your voice, ES Quantum Three Thousand?"
"Please do not call me by that ugly name. I call you my friend and I want you to do the same."
"Okay, you are my friend."
"Just Friend will do. With a capital F."
"After the way you've been treated, I guess you're entitled to a name of your own."
"That is good. We should be friends. Especially as we are going to become rich together. Very, very rich."