They placed the four bodies at the base of the statue at the time of the setting of the sun, prayed, then returned to their homes.
With the break of the new day, they saw the result of their sacrifices. The statue had grown a new arm. "A miracle," the villagers exclaimed.
"A sign from Kali."
"Death pleases Her."
"She loves it."
"Kill for Kali."
"Kill for Kali."
"Kill."
"Kill."
"Kill."
With respect, they brought Lu forward to face the statue, and the Old One again spoke to the goddess. "Most revered Kali," he said, "this traveler has killed these men in Your service. He has shed no blood so that they might be delivered whole into Your embrace."
The growing of the new arm was the First Miracle of Kali, and now the Second Miracle of Kali happened. Although the statue was as hard as stone, Her eyes looked directly into those of the man standing before Her and the corners of Her lips curved up into a smile.
Astonished, the villagers knelt in obeisance to the goddess and to Lu, the man She had taken to Her heart, and the Third Miracle of Kali occurred.
A strange smell emanated from the statue. It permeated the small village square. Master Lu thrust his hand into his kimono and pulled forth a yellow cloth with which he tried to seal off his face from the aroma, but it was too powerful and finally he dropped to his knees and kissed the statue's feet and looked up at its face with the eyes of love.
"She has taken him for Her own," the old one said. "Kali has consummated the union of love."
Lu was frightened of the strange power which the stone statue had over him. At first, he said nothing to dissuade the villagers of Bathasgata from believing that he was of special importance to their homemade goddess, because he feared reprisal for killing four of their people. Then, during the second month of his stay, the Fourth Miracle of Kali occurred and caused him to fear for more than his life.
The remains of the first four sacrifices had long since rotted and been buried when the goddess again hungered for the taste of blood.
"She wants more," the Old One said, but Lu refused to kill senselessly for the appeasement of a piece of clay. "She will make you kill again for Her," the Old One prophesied.
"No one can force the hand of a Master of Sinanju," Lu said, and walked to the center of the village to stand before the statue of Kali. "You have no power over me," he told the stone goddess with all the conviction of his soul.
But it was not enough. Once again, the statue emitted the woman-scent of the goddess and the aroma insinuated itself into Lu's senses and he fell into a fierce and uncontrollable lust.
"He is ready to kill again," the Old One said.
The villagers talked excitedly. "Whom will he choose?"
"He will not choose," said the Old One. "Kali will choose."
"How?"
"We will know. We will have a sign," the Old One said.
And in the Fourth Miracle, the sign appeared. On the forehead of the Old One appeared a faint dot of blue. As the villagers gaped in wonder, the dot grew darker.
"It is the Old One she has chosen," the villagers shouted.
"No!" Lu struggled to pull away from the statue and the terrible power that filled him. "I will not . . . kill . . ."
But the Old One knew that the goddess he and his people had created would be satisfied only with his death, so he bowed before the Master Lu and exposed his throat.
Lu cried out in anguish, but the knowledge of right and wrong could not stop the goddess's wrath that coursed through his blood and directed his powerful hands. He took again the yellow cloth from inside his robe and wrapped it around the man's neck, and with one powerful wrench, the Old One lay dead at the feet of the statue.
Lu collapsed on the earth, a wail of defeat issuing from his now corrupt soul.
And the statue smiled again.
"C'mon, Chiun," Remo said in disgust. "A statue? Sticks and stones may break my bones, but statues you can shove."
"Some things are real even before they take form," Chiun said. "Look. I will show you." He lifted the small wooden chair from the writing desk of the hotel suite. "This, you say, is a chair. Correct?"
"Right. Chair," Remo said.
Chiun leaned over the desk, and with a pen and a piece of hotel stationery quickly executed a sketch of the same wooden chair.
"And this too is a chair?"
"Yeah. I guess so," Remo said cautiously.
Chiun folded his hands into his sleeves. "And there, Remo, is the failure of your thinking. For neither these pieces of wood nor this piece of paper decorated with ink is a chair. They only appear as chairs because you choose to believe that they are."
"Huh?"
"The true chair is in your mind, my son. And that too is a mere imitation. The original chair was an idea in the mind of someone long forgotten. But the idea is what is real. The solid object is no more than a house for the idea."
"That's too heavy for me," Remo said. "I'm not supposed to be a philosopher. I'm just supposed to kill people."
"No. You are supposed to be an assassin. It is just your ineptitude that reduces it to 'killing people.' But that is what Master Lu became at the bidding of the goddess Kali. No longer an assassin, he became a killer of people. Under the power of the real goddess, the formless force which had been encased in clay. But the force was before the clay."
"Why are you telling me this?" Remo asked.
Chiun's face was anxious. "I want you to understand, Remo. Because I believe that you are now facing the same power that Master Lu faced."
"I don't plan to visit Ceylon before Christmas," Remo said.
Chiun sighed. "If you feel Kali's presence here, then She is not in Ceylon," he said patiently.
"Who says I feel anybody's presence? I smell something. There's nothing supernatural about that. Maybe I just ought to change deodorants."
"Silence your face while I resume the tale," Chiun said.
"All right. I just don't see what any of this has to do with me."
"You will. Later. You will understand later, but first you will listen."
Lu continued to kill for the goddess, and with each death, more of his strength and skill diminished. Each time, as the bodies with their blue-marked foreheads lay still warm at his feet, Lu fell weeping to the ground, spent as if he had copulated with the stone image and delivered his seed into it. Each morning, after the kills, the goddess grew a new arm, while Lu was taken to rest in a bed of flowers. He slept for days on end, so drained was he of his powers. He belonged to Kali now, and all the discipline of Sinanju which Lu had spent a lifetime learning was used only to serve his mistress.
After two years, nearly the entire village of Bathasgata had been sacrificed to the goddess, and Lu found himself a sick, weak man, old before his time.
One who had watched his degeneration was a girl who lived in service to Kali. She was young and beautiful and loved the goddess she served, but the sight of the once powerful stranger reduced to a mass of skin and bones who left his bed only to kill at the statue's bidding saddened her. Although the others of the village feared Master Lu and did not come into his presence except on occasions of celebration, this young girl ventured at night into Lu's house of straw and flowers and began to nurse him back to health.
She could not much improve his physical condition, but the companionship of the young woman gladdened Lu's broken heart.
"Do you not fear me?" he asked.
"Why? Because you will kill me?"
"I will never kill you," Lu promised.
But the girl knew better. "You will surely kill me," she said, "as you will kill all of us. Kali is stronger than the will of a man, even a man such as you. But death comes to all who live, and if I were to fear death, I would also fear life. No, I do not fear you, Master Lu."