"Not really. I've been thinking about this for a couple of days. You're going to get back your money and maybe turn a handsome profit."
"You're a genius. How?"
"Your problem is that the life of the average citizen of the third world is worth roughly, as close as I can get it, between five and ten dollars, except in some African countries and Cambodia, where it's worth absolutely nothing. So where's your return? Not there, of course. What you have to do is move the case to America, where a life is worth something. "
"Yes, but how?"
"It's already begun. You see, what's working here is an awful lot of public concern in just the place you need it. America. Therefore, get the trial moved to America. "
"But it happened in India. No court in its right mind, so to speak, is going to accept a claim in America. "
"Ah, you ought to be a tinkerer like me. You've hit on just the problem, and the solution is already under way. I have eliminated the need for any rationality. You see, you lawyer fellows don't really think things through. You think because something is irrational, you can't pull it off."
"What are you talking about?"
"I have eliminated the need for any common sense whatsoever."
"How on earth did you do that?"
"I used what was already there. You gentlemen are going to be the beneficiary of a public cause. It needs absolutely no reason whatsoever. Just emotion, and Gupta offers that. I have already told your man Rizzuto to get in on the big charity movement, something he can do well because he appeals to people's emotions. And it worked. Just listen to your own news: there's going to be a massive benefit for Gupta, and you're going to profit from it."
"Do you expect us to steal from a benefit? That's low. "
"That and other things. Your man's job, as I outlined it to him, is to use the concert as a platform to get the case transferred to an American court, where you can clean up on human lives."
"Wonderful," said Schwartz. "I don't know how to thank you. I guess you have good reasons to keep us solvent. "
"Not in the least," said Dastrow.
"But why have you ohly worked for us?"
"That is the secret of making things work. What works, works."
"And so you would see a danger in working for someone else, because there would be something new involved. Right? I thought so," said Schwartz.
"Not quite right. I don't have to work for anyone anymore. I have everything I need."
"Then why are you doing all this?"
"Because I want to find out how something works."
"I can't imagine anything you don't understand."
"Neither can I," came the twangy voice with the sunshine bounce. "That's why I'm so delighted to discover this mystery. And by the way, I'm going to save you to boot. It's good to have a challenge again."
"The new force you were talking about?"
"Yes. "
"Are you going to do away with it?"
"Of course. That's why we're having the big benefit in America. That's why I told Rizzuto to be there, to use it. I'm not doing this for you, Mr. Schwartz. I never have. I need that benefit concert as much as you do."
It was called Save Humanity. Fifty rock stars joined together on one album and in one concert, which was to take place simultaneously in five cities around the globe. They were going to save humanity by saving the people of Gupta, who had been ravaged by modern technology.
The theme song was "Save," and the singers simply intoned the word over and over again. It went to number one on the pop charts the day it was released. Rock songs usually were inane, but this one was totally meaningless.
Many columnists were calling the Save Humanity effort the most meaningful movement in history. For once, Remo and Chiun agreed.
"What does it mean?" they both asked.
Debbie Pattie had introduced them to her hangers-on as friends. When Debbie moved, she moved in caravans. She dressed like a beggar and moved like a king. She had five bodyguards, each of whom had attempted to keep Remo and Chiun at a distance. Now she had five hospital bills. No one had seen exactly how her bodyguards had received so many broken bones, but her accountant, who said he saw the whole thing, could have sworn that one of them tried to guide the old Oriental away from a doorway and the next thing anyone knew, he was on the floor screaming and they were calling for ambulances.
Remo and Chiun had taken over Debbie's guard duties. Remo had also offered to do the same for a good-looking lawyer named Genara Rizzuto. He had been very friendly with Rizzuto, offering to help secure him a telephone whenever he wanted to phone his home office, wanting to know everything about him. He had made sure Rizzuto had gotten a room on the same floor that Debbie had rented in the Ritz Hotel of Chicago where the main concert was to be held.
Debbie had complained about this, since she liked to have a floor to herself, but she said she always had trouble denying anything to Remo. She usually said this while slumped in a chair with her legs spread. Remo would have thought this was a sexual offer except she always slumped in a chair with her legs spread, even as she was doing now, explaining the popularity of the song "Save."
"What does it mean?" she repeated. "It means everything. It means who we are and what we are."
"I don't understand," said Remo. The door to her suite was open, and he could see Rizzuto's door. Rizzuto had gone in there supposedly for an afternoon nap, along with four men and three decks of cards. The big benefit concert was to be that evening, and he was supposed to appear in it for some reason. How he had insinuated himself into a bunch of rock stars, Remo did not know. But it was worth finding out. He did not have anything on the trio of shysters in California, but this had to be the closest thing to a slipup they were going to make.
"We have to save ourselves, or who else will do it?" asked Debbie. "Right?"
"How?"
"By raising more money in one night than was ever raised before. Raising it for goodness instead of evil. Do you know that one fighter plane costs twenty million dollars? If that money were used for good instead of evil, think how nice the world would be." When Debbie Pattie was at her most earnest, a large part of her Brooklyn accent disappeared. The transformation was remarkable.
"I think Remo is asking how this money will do good," said Chiun.
"It's going to the people who need it instead of the people who already have it," said Debbie. She was repeating what she had heard. And she was annoyed that someone would dare bother her with such stupid questions. After all, if reporters never asked them what was going to happen to the money, why should friends like Remo and Chiun?
"Are they going to hand them dollar bills or what?"
"No, dammit. It's for a charity, you know. Like charity. Who knows what happens when you give for any charity? It does good, right? Better than paying taxes," said Debbie. She was sure that would get a positive response. All the reporters always laughed when she said that, and many said it showed she had a deep understanding of politics which she hid behind her simple songs.
"No," said Remo.
"Whadya mean, 'no'? No one says no. You don't say no, just no, like that," said Debbie. She was snarling.
"I'm saying no. Taxes are good. They pay to defend your country, keep your roads up, feed your people, support your allies. They're good. Who's getting the money from Save Humanity?"
"Humanity, asshole," yelled Debbie. "Tell him who humanity is. It's all of us. It's every one of us regardless of race, creed, or national origin. It's the babies and the mothers. It's the fathers and the brothers, it's you, man, and it's me, man."
"Anytime you want to really answer my question, feel free," said Remo.
"Tell him. You tell him," Debbie said to Chiun. Chiun was busy pondering the selection of robes he might wear. Though he was not allowed onstage, Debbie had assured him he could stand in the wings.