"If the world depends on us getting through Boston traffic in less than a day, I'd say the world has a grim prognosis."
Chiun said, "We will walk to the airport if necessary, Emperor Smith. For our gratitude knows no bounds."
"There is public transportation," Smith said. "Another consideration."
"I can see the headlines now," Remo said through a mouthful of rice, knowing it would make Chiun complain about his manners, " 'SUBWAY PASSENGER REFUSES TO GIVE UP SEAT FOR KOREAN MAN; TRAIN PULLS INTO STATION WITH ALL ABOARD DEAD.'"
"Remo, do not speak with your mouth full."
"So, today I'm a Chinaman."
"Today, you are a Chinaman and a Thai. Thais talk with their mouths full. This is why they do not wear beards which might catch expelled rice grains."
"Maybe I'll grow a beard," Remo muttered.
"You have too much unsightly facial hair to grow a proper beard," said Chiun, stroking the thin tendril of hair clinging to his tiny chin. "Do not pay him any heed, Emperor Smith," he confided in Smith. "Remo is in a cranky mood because he will have to sleep indoors tonight, for his moat is not yet ready."
"Har de har har har," Remo said, swallowing.
"Additionally," Smith said doggedly, "I took the demographic makeup of the local population into consideration."
"I have no objection to dwelling among Demographs," Chiun said loftily. "As long as there are an equal number of Republicrats to keep their spendthrift tendencies in line."
Smith set down his rice, giving up.
"You should have no problem shopping for correct foods and other items," he said.
"The rice Remo was able to purchase locally is of good quality. And the duck would have been superb-if prepared properly."
"I am glad everything is satisfactory," said Smith.
"It is." said Chiun. "All we lack is the sound of a child's happy laughter."
"And the sour reek of unchanged diapers," Remo muttered.
Chiun frowned. "Remo," he said in a steady tone, "Soon Cheeta will once again shower this land with her wisdom and grace. Please serve dessert and turn on the television device."
"I do not think my diet will allow me to eat dessert," Smith said.
"Your diet will definitely allow you to eat these," said Remo, pointing to a linen-covered basket set in the center of the circle in which they sat.
Remo reached over and lifted the basket by the handle, snatching away the linen.
"Enjoy."
Smith frowned. He saw a cluster of small horny brown shapes. Gingerly, he lifted one.
"What are these?" Smith asked in a doubtful tone.
"Lichee nuts," said Remo.
"How does one remove the shell?"
"You do it like so," said Remo, digging a thumbnail into the area of the stem and popping the top off to expose the juicy white grapelike fruit. Then he broke away the remaining shell and popped the fruit into his mouth.
Smith attempted the same operation. He managed to crush the fruit in its shell and, embarrassed, swallowed it with bits of shell still clinging to it.
Chiun stared at him in horror. Smith, seeing this, looked to Remo, who was spitting the biggest pit he had ever seen this side of a peach into a flat, silver dish.
"You're supposed to lose the pit," Remo said.
"I do not think I will have another," Smith said weakly.
"Good. But because one is all Chiun and I are allowed. Right, Little Father?"
The Master of Sinanju took his litchi nut between his extra long fingernails and performed an operation that seemed not to break the shell, but suddenly it lay at his feet, along with the pit. The limp white meat went into his mouth. He chewed it for over a minute, until the pulp was liquid. Then he swallowed the result as if it were a refreshing nectar.
"And now it is time for Cheeta," Chiun said in a satisfied voice.
Remo grabbed the clicker and pointed it at the large screen television he had purchased earlier and carted by hand up the stairs. That had been the easy part. Chiun had made him move it sixteen times until the sun was not reflected on the screen.
"Anybody know which channel she's on locally?" Remo asked as he ran up and down the channels.
"Remo! Hurry! I must not miss a moment of Cheeta's-"
"Screed," Remo muttered, stopping when the familiar BCN News graphic filled the screen.
Chiun's tight features relaxed, and his nails touched delicately as his eyes fell on the face of Cheeta Ching, the Korean anchorwoman with whom he had been infatuated for over a decade now. Her face, under a layer of pancake makeup thick enough to pass as cake frosting, was puffy. She was due in six weeks, and Remo dreaded the approaching day.
"Hello. This is the BCN Evening News with Cheeta Ching. "
Chiun sighed. "What eloquence."
"What crap," Remo muttered.
Smith sat attentively.
Cheeta fixed her predatory eyes on the camera. "Tonight, a startling video out of Africa-and a mystery. Did the Burger Triumph corporation send a safari into the darkest Gondwanaland to bring 'em back alive only to fall into a snare themselves?"
The camera zoomed in on Cheeta's flat features.
"BCN News has obtained an exclusive video of what may be confirmation of what explorers and natives have been claiming for over a century. That deep in the Gondwanaland's imperiled Kanda Tract, an actual dinosaur survives."
Remo brightened. "No kidding!"
"Here is a clip reportedly shot last night by a Burger Triumph-sponsored exploration team," Cheeta announced.
Remo sat up straighter. Chiun's eyes narrowed.
The clip ran nearly three minutes-long for network TV.
It showed an orange-and-black long-necked dinosaur lumber out of a swatch of jungle growth and fall before a withering fusillade of rifle fire.
"A spokesman for Burger Triumph assures us that only nonlethal tranquilizer bullets were employed to stun the creature, which appears to be some sort of dinosaur."
"Brontosaur, you dip," Remo said,.
"Remo, hush," Chiun admonished.
"How can she call herself a reporter when she doesn't even recognize a Brontosaur when she sees one?"
"Actually," Smith started to say, "it is a-"
"Silence!" Chiun thundered, and both men fell silent.
Cheeta Ching was still doing a voice-over as scenes of the dinosaur falling onto its stomach were played and replayed.
"After this footage was shot," she said, "the monster was loaded on a train and set out for the capital, Port Chuma. Mysteriously, no trace of the train has been seen in over twenty-four hours. Authorities in Port Chuma express confidence that the train, with its strange cargo, will eventually be found. But as of this hour, there are no new developments to report."
"Which is anchorspeak for 'We don't know nothing,' " Remo said sourly.
"A Burger Triumph spokesman who asked not to be named said the company is considering launching a second expedition to locate the first. Next up, an interview with my personal gynecologist with his thirdtrimester report. But first, this message."
The screen cut to a different shot of Cheeta Ching extolling the virtues of a home pregnancy testing kit, and Remo and Smith looked to Chiun to see if it was acceptable to talk or not.
Chiun's eyes were narrow. Almost slits. He was very still.
He turned to meet Smith's gaze with his own.
"Emperor Smith, I crave a boon, as ungrateful as it may sound."
"Yes?"
"Dispatch Remo and me to Africa to seek those who are lost."
"Oh no!" Remo said harshly. "I'd rather stay here than go to Africa. I've been there. It's hot and it stinks."
"I will go alone, then," Chiun said coldly.
"Why?" asked Smith.
Chiun made a face. "I cannot tell you, but granting this boon may mean that the House of Sinanju will continue to serve America far into the next century."
Smith looked to Remo. Remo shrugged. Smith cleared his throat. "Well, since these people are American citizens, I suppose you could go. So long as you are discreet."