"What's that you said, Little Father?" Remo asked.
"I said 'Arrggh!' "
"I thought so," Remo said absently.
"Why don't I show you around the grounds?" Victoria Hoar said suddenly, taking Remo by the hand. "Get you acquainted with the fine work of Eldon Sluggard World Ministries."
"A good thought," said Chiun, taking Victoria Hoar by her free hand. "You may show us both around." Victoria Hoar felt Chiun's hand in hers. It was strong for a hand so frail-looking and thin-boned. She looked down at the shiny head of the tiny Oriental, which was bald but for two white tufts of hair over each ear. Chiun was smiling up at her. He looked like a pleased little elf. But his hands were grinding the complicated bones of her palm against one another. It hurt. Victoria Hoar attempted to disengage her hand, but the little Oriental would not let go.
"Yes, of course. I did mean both of you," she gasped painfully.
Only then did the pressure stop.
When she led them from the room, Victoria was holding no one's hand.
"What's with her?" Remo whispered as they followed Victoria Hoar down the corridor and into the coolness of the late-spring afternoon.
"Fickle," Chiun said. "I would watch that one."
"Funny. She seemed so warm only a minute ago."
"A certain sign of fickleness," said Chiun. He looked around the quadrangle. "We are obviously working for a man who likes to see his name on everything."
Hearing that, Victoria Hoar turned her head. "Reverend Sluggard believes in glorifying God," she said. She adressed her statement to Remo, not Chiun. Remo smiled. She smiled back. Chiun decided this was an appropriate moment to speak up.
"How does putting his name on every building glorify the Supreme Creator?" he asked.
"Reverend Sluggard is God's representative on earth. What glorifies Reverend Sluggard glorifies God."
"Says who?" asked Chiun.
"Hush, Little Father," Remo admonished. "Victoria is explaining."
"Call me Vicki if you wish," she said, impulsively taking Remo's hand once more. Chiun moved to her other side to grasp the other hand. Obviously this white woman was stubborn. But Chiun saw that she had entwined her arm around Rema's and laid her other hand upon his forearm.
"I asked a question," Chiun said huffily. "Who says this man represents the Supreme Creator?"
"Why, Reverend Sluggard does," said Victoria Hoar, as if that explained everything. "He was fasting one day and God spoke to him. God gave him a holy rapture, and told him to build all this."
"Were there any witnesses?"
"No. Why should there be? God's personal representative would never lie, now, would he?"
"I've been thinking about God a lot lately," Remo said.
As they walked, Victoria pointed out that just last month the Reverend Sluggard had raised over a million dollars, which he donated to the starving people of Ethiopia.
"It used to be two million a month, but donations have dropped off. Those bad religious figures," she added conspiratorially.
"What bad religious figures?" Remo asked.
"Well, there's Slim and Jaimie Barker, Moral Robbins-"
"Never heard of them," said Remo.
"Don't you watch television?" Victoria Hoar wanted to know.
"No, not really," Remo said.
"Or read newspapers?"
"I try to keep up with the Sunday funnies," said Remo.
"Good," said Victoria Hoar.
"How long has this Sluggard been donating money to the starving Ethiopians?" Chiun put in suddenly.
"Oh, I don't know. Years."
"More than two?"
"At least three."
"Then why are the Ethiopians still starving? If you gave them over seventy-two million dollars, even Ethiopians could find a way to feed their populace," said Chiun.
"I don't really know," answered Victoria Hoar. "I never thought about it. I guess they breed faster than we can donate money."
"That makes no sense," Chiun said scornfully.
"Sounds about right to me," Remo said brightly. He was looking into Victoria's eyes again. In another minute, Chiun was sure, they would fall onto the grass and begin rutting in front of everyone. The Master of Sinanju looked around. Maybe if he pretended to stumble against something and break it, the spell would be broken. There was a towering cross in the middle of the quadrangle. It looked like gold, but Chiun recognized at a glance that it was only brass polished to a high sheen. Etched in the horizontal bar of the cross was a legend, "Do Unto Others . . ."
"Why is the rest of the quotation missing?" Chiun asked suddenly. He had decided against destroying the cross. Knowing Remo's present sensitivity, he would probably accuse the Master of Sinanju of violating some silly white taboo.
"What?" asked Victoria Hoar, whirling. Her eyes followed Chiun's pointing finger to the cross. "Oh, that. I think they couldn't fit it all in."
"There is plenty of room," said Chiun.
"Reverend Sluggard says it's easier to remember."
"It changes the meaning," said Chiun.
"Is he always like that?" Victoria asked Remo. Remo nodded.
"And this is one of his good days."
"I heard that," snapped Chiun. He hurried to catch up with them. The female was leading Remo to a building marked "World Broadcast Ministries." Chiun understood that had something to do with television. Perhaps this female wanted to copulate with Remo in front of a TV camera for all the world to see. The Master of Sinanju had heard that there were harlots in America who did such things for money. He decided that they were in an evil place and the sooner they were done with this assignment, the better.
Naturally, it was at that moment that Remo chose to say what was on his mind.
"You know, I kind of like it here. It reminds me of when I used to go to Sunday school. The crosses. The cool breezes on the grass. Everything is so clean and pure. I was thinking just the other day that it's been years since I've been to church. Wasn't I, Chiun?"
"I am not privy to your ridiculous thoughts," Chiun grumbled. "Except when you insist on braying them to anyone who will listen."
"A lot of people find inner peace through Reverend Sluggard," Victoria said musically. "He was telling me just the other day that he's had wonderful success with teenage boys. I guess they're drawn to him because he's so filled with the Holy Spirit."
"I guess everyone here prays a lot."
"Are you kidding?" Victoria said dryly. "Reverend Sluggard has me get down on my knees two or three times a day."
"I'd like to hear him preach," Remo said.
"He is a magnificent preacher. Why, he knows the entire Bible by heart. He can open it up to any page, and without glancing at the page more than a second, recite entire passages."
"I knew a nun who could do that. Sister Mary Margaret," Remo said in a wistful voice. "She was a big influence on my life."
"But at the first sign of disappointment, she spurned you," Chiun put in. Remo ignored him.
"Where are those people going?" asked Remo. He pointed to a dome-shaped glass building. Buses were pulling up in front of it.
"That's the Temple of Tribute," Victoria Hoar said. "It's where Reverend Sluggard pays tribute to the Lord and his flock pays tribute to Reverend Sluggard. Each day, after he tapes his daily program, Reverend Sluggard ministers to the faithful. These people come from all over the country to receive Reverend Sluggard's blessing. He heals through faith. I have an idea. Why don't we watch him work? We can finish the tour later."
"Is that all right with you, Little Father?" Remo asked suddenly. "I really want to see this."
The Master of Sinanju hesitated. He would have said no, but Remo had asked, and there was another reason. "Yes, let us all go," Chiun said. "I am curious to see how American religions work. Perhaps I can learn how they so enthrall even those who have been raised above them. "
They melted into the converging groups. The Master of Sinanju noticed that most of the people were old. Many had infirmities. Some walked on crutches. Others were pushed along in wheelchairs. Many joints made tiny sounds of misalignment. Here and there, hearts beat irregularly. Heart disease. It was common in America, he knew. In his home village of Sinanju on the West Korea Bay, it was nearly unheard-of, thanks to a steady diet of fish and rice.