The Final Crusade td-76

by Warren Murphy

  "That's not the point. I could have."

  "The point is that you did not."

  "So what's the point of reliving it now?" demanded Remo. The old anger was rising in his voice. Chiun found it reassuring, although disrespectful.

  "Do you remember, only weeks later, when I again asked you to do something for me?"

  "No. "

  "I asked you to run through a burning room."

  "Yeah. It's coming back. You opened the door and there were flames coming from different spots on the floor. Little flames. Tiny ones."

  "And I told you to run as if the entire room was ablaze. To run with your eyes shut and your breath held tightly within you."

  "And when I was halfway through the little fires, the room exploded in a ball of hell. Christ, Chiun, how could you?"

  Chiun shrugged. "A simple mechanical contrivance. The floor contained gas jets. Smith installed them when I insisted that he build me a room for that purpose. I merely turned a wheel."

  "I could have been incinerated," Remo growled. "But you were not. And so you learned that flame is no more to be feared than water if you keep moving and do not inhale. But that is not the point of this discussion either."

  "And just what is the friggin' point?" Remo snarled.

  "The point is that even though I had tricked you with the logs, you trusted me with the room of fire."

  "I was stupid. Sue me."

  "Most stupid," Chiun corrected. "Gullible."

  "Okay, gullible."

  "Hopelessly gullible. Magnificently gullible. Invincibly gullible. Implacably-"

  "Okay, okay. You made your point. So what?"

  "You still do not understand what I am saying?"

  "No!" Remo fumed.

  "I have always liked that quality about you."

  "That I don't understand half your lessons?"

  "No, that you are gullible. A less-gullible man would have run away the day of the logs. A less-gullible man would have refused to enter the room of tiny fires. A less-gullible man would learn to question my assurances and perhaps think for himself. At that stage in your Sinanju training, thinking would have been dangerous, possibly fatal. Fortunately, you did not think. You obeyed. You believed. You acted. And so you lived."

  Remo lifted a forefinger and made circles in the air. "Whooppee shit," he said.

  Chiun sighed. "I have trained your body but neglected your mind. I thought you would learn to think. You have not. You continue to be gullible, gullible and trusting."

  "You just said it saved my life."

  "Indeed. But I do not wish you to be gullible and trusting in all things forever."

  "Yeah? So what?"

  "And another thing I have neglected. Your religious training."

  "I had fantastic religious training."

  "If you took to Sinanju the way you took to your religious training, we would not be here now. You would be somewhere swilling beer and eating cow meat. And you would be fat. Grossly fat."

  "Says you," said Remo. But he swallowed as if hungry. Chiun wondered if it was the memory of the burned patties of dung Americans called hamburgers or the aroma of fresh rice coming to a boil. Chiun could not tell.

  "Normally a Korean child is taught about the Supreme Creator before his fourth birthday. With you, you had already seen over twenty summers and were fixed in your beliefs, even if you no longer embraced them. "

  "I don't think you've ever told me about the Korean religious system."

  "Because it would only confuse you. In Sinanju, we do not teach our young the Korean beliefs. Only Sinanju beliefs. "

  "So, tell me."

  "It is very simple. There is the Supreme Creator, and-"

  "What is he called?"

  "The Supreme Creator."

  "You don't have a name for him? Like Ralph? Or Chong?"

  "That is impertinent," said Chiun. "In Sinanju, we do not presume to know his name, so we call him the Supreme Creator, for that is what he is."

  "Not even God?"

  "Even that is a name. No, we do not call him that. He is the Supreme Creator. He created everything, including the wisest, noblest, most humble, thoughtful, and intelligent creature ever to grace the earth with his tread ..."

  Chiun paused before he completed the sentence. "The Korean," Remo and Chiun said in the same breath.

  Chiun smiled at Remo's perceptiveness. Remo frowned at Chiun's bigotry.

  "I have never told you how the Supreme Creator created the first Korean, have I?"

  "No, you just told me that every other race was inferior. I think 'duck droppings' was the term used to describe the white, brown, and black races collectively."

  "You had to know that at an early stage in your training. So that you understood the gift that was Sinanju was too good for you. It motivated you."

  "It disgusted me."

  "I will ignore that remark and continue as if you had not made it. Now, when the Supreme Creator gazed down upon his world, he saw a land of great bounty, of plentiful fruits, of purest water. And he called that good land-"

  "Korea," Remo sighed.

  Chiun smiled, even if Remo had interrupted him. Remo glowered.

  "And seeing that this land was so rich and peaceful," Chiun went on happily, "the Supreme Creator descended upon Korea. And as he walked along, he met a tiger and a bear. And the tiger and the bear beheld the shape of the Supreme Creator's being and asked to be made like him, to stand upright on their hind legs and to use their forepaws for grasping objects. And the Supreme Creator thought on this and said to them: 'If you will go to that cave beyond the next hill and wait for one hundred days, I will consider you worthy of this gift.'

  "And so they went. But the cave was dark, and its walls dripped cold water. And so the tiger departed after only a few days. But the bear stayed. And when, at the end of one hundred days, the Supreme Creator came to the cave, he found the bear alone, cold, and wet and waiting for him."

  "He turned the bear into a man?"

  "No. Into a woman. And seeing that this woman was fair, he mated with her. And they had a son. And that son was Tangun, the first Korean. This was ten thousand years ago, and since then, all time in Korea dates from the first day Tangun walked upright."

  "That is a silly story," snapped Remo.

  "And I suppose you whites have a more magnificent origin."

  "Yeah, we do. Adam and Eve. God created Adam and then he created Eve from Adam's rib. This took place in the Garden of Eden, where there was plenty of food and the sun always shone."

  "From a rib? Oh, Remo, you are so funny. At least my story has a basis in plausibility. In my story, the Supreme Creator did not work with spare parts like some greasy-fingered white mechanic."

  The Master of Sinanju slapped his bony knees. His hazel eyes twinkled merrily. His frail body shook with glee.

  "That isn't the full story," Remo said heatedly. "And then Adam and Eve mated and produced two sons, Cain and Abel. Cain slew Abel."

  "Typical," clucked Chiun. "Even with an entire garden to themselves and plenty of food, they could not get along. How white."

  "I'm not sure how much of it I actually believe," Remo admitted grudgingly.

  "Oh? Is this a dent in the mighty armor of your faith?" demanded Chiun.

  "I said I wasn't sure. That's the Bible story. There are scientific theories too."

  "If you are going to tell me the monkey story," said Chiun, "I may have to leave the room to spare your white feelings."

  "I read an article in a scientific magazine once. These scientists claimed that by analyzing human chromosomes or something they had figured out that all human life on earth could be traced back to one woman who had lived in Africa millions of years ago."

  "One woman?"

  "One woman."

  "All life?" demanded Chiun.

  "All life," repeated Remo firmly. "It's been proven. Scientifically."

  "They must not have tested any Koreans. Our people are only ten thousand years old. And
we did not come from Africa."

  "All life," Remo said again.

  "And you believed this?"

  "Scientifically proven."

  "If this is so, how did that woman get there?"

  Remo looked doubtful. "The article didn't say," he admitted.

  "Did it say how this one woman who came before all others came to be with child?"

  "No. It didn't."

  "Maybe the Supreme Creator took her rib and then created the first man. You whites are always getting your history backwards."

  "That's not funny. And just because they left out a few details doesn't mean they haven't proven their case."

  "They left out two important details like that and you accepted all the rest of their nonsense! Remo, you are too much. You will believe anything. Even Reverend Sluggard's chicanery."

  "I haven't made up my mind about him. Yet."

  "And I have not finished telling you the religious beliefs of Sinanju."

  "I'm listening."

  "I have told you about the Supreme Creator. He lives in a place called the Void. When Koreans die, they cast off their broken bodies and join him in the void. "

  Remo waited. "What else?"

  "Else? What else can there be?"

  "What about heaven and hell?"

  "Silly stories created by unholy holy men to manipulate other men."

  "What about sin?"

  "That is a priest's word," Chiun spat. "We believe that a man makes mistakes. If they are little mistakes, he will learn from them. If they are big mistakes, he will naturally pay for the consequences of his actions within his lifetime."

  "What about forgiveness?"

  "The Supreme Creator does not hold grudges."

  "What about Jesus?"

  "What about Buddha? And Mohammed? And Zoroaster? And Shiva?"

  "Don't confuse me with tales of Shiva. I asked about Jesus. "

  Chiun shrugged. "A carpenter. A rabble-rouser. We had a contract on him at one time, but something more important came up. By the time my ancestor got around to him, he was already dead."

  "I was raised to believe he was the Son of God."

  "And Masters of Sinanju are taught to do business with kings, not their princes."

  "You've got a cockamamie religious system, you know that?"

  "Cockamamie?"

  "It's too ...too ..."

  "Simple?" asked Chiun.

  "Yeah. Too simple."

  "Simplicity is perfection, and perfection, simplicity. The Supreme Creator knew what he was doing. Now I see that the rice is ready. Will you have some?"

  "Do you have enough?" Remo asked, eyeing the boiling pot hungrily.

  "No, but I am willing to sacrifice."

  "I don't want to take all your rice," Remo protested.

  "It is a small sacrifice."

  Remo hesitated. Finally he said, "Well, okay. But not too much."

  And Chiun smiled to himself. Remo had forgotten the white woman with the lascivious mouth. It was as it was written in the Book of Sinanju: "A female is but a female, but rice is a meal." He had once shared that mighty insight with Remo, but Remo had claimed it was a corruption of a white saying having to do with smoking tobacco weeds, another filthy white habit.

  Chapter 18

  They came from all over America. By bus and bicycle, by jet, and on foot.

  From Maine, from Texas, from California, even from faraway Alaska. Their hair was short and it hung to their shoulder blades. They wore ties and cufflinks and earrings and spiked collars. Some carried expensive luggage in both hands and others only pocket change. They were young and naive, yet hard beyond their years. They were polite and profane. But the one thing they all had in common was that they cried for blood. Moslem blood.

  "It's a mob!" cried Reverend Eldon Sluggard, watching them pour through the gates of the Eldon Sluggard World Ministries from the wheelhouse of his luxury yacht.

  "No." Victoria Hoar smiled. "It's an army. Our army."

  "Where are we going to put 'em all?" Eldon Sluggard moaned. "How are we gonna feed 'em all. You got any idea how much teenagers eat? This is the sixth day of this. Ah never imagined this kind of response."

  "We'll find room," Victoria said. She consulted a clipboard containing sheafs of paper. "According to my figures, we're getting a seventy-percent sign-up rate. That's after we weed out the party-seekers with psychological-evaluation tests."

  "Are you sure that seventy percent is solid? Ah don't want any more chicken-livered ones like that Booe boy. "

  "We've improved the tests since the first Crusade. If these numbers hold up, we'll be up to division strength inside of a week."

  "Well," said Eldon Sluggard, watching his security people work the crowd, "Ah hope we don't go broke feeding 'em before we ship 'em out."

  Out by the gates, Eldon Sluggard's uniformed security people, under the watchful eyes of Remo and Chiun, were frisking the incoming recruits, confiscating bottles of liquor and, in some cases, firearms. A guard took a twelve-gauge shotgun from one blond boy, and the boy protested. He reached for his weapon. Chiun suddenly appeared behind him and the boy went as stiff as a post and keeled over. He was carried off, still stiff. The crowd settled down.

  "Our new security boys sure know how to work a crowd. But on mah life, Ah can't figure them out."

  "Neither can I. But as long as they do their job and don't get snoopy, I can handle their being here."

  "They got another game. Ah can feel it."

  "They're not with the government. They don't feel right for FBI plants."

  "Ah don't like the old one. He's too smart. Remo is just a mark as far as Ah'm concerned, but the old one makes me damn nervous."

  "Uh-huh," Victoria Hoar said absently as she consulted her clipboard again. "They're incredibly good and they're here to protect you. What have you to be afraid of?"

  "The devil," said Reverend Eldon Sluggard worriedly. Victoria Hoar looked up suddenly. Her eyebrows inched together. "What did you say?"

  "The devil. Ah'm afraid of the devil, and not ashamed to admit it either."

  "I thought you were above that superstitious drivel."

  "Ah am. Ah don't believe in God. But the devil is different. Ah've had nightmares about him. Ah can feel his hairy hands clutching at mah poor throat sometimes. When Ah wake up, Ah can see him grinnin' at me in the dark. Ah can't see his face, just those white teeth floatin' in the air. When Ah blink, they go away."

  "Are you serious?" Victoria drank in Sluggard's uneasy expression. "You are serious, aren't you?"

  "Sometimes he's tall and green with a short spiky tail. Sometimes he's little and yellow with knowing eyes and long horny claws. Like that old chink."

  "Remo says he's Korean."

  "He's the devil. Ah had a dream last night. He crawled out from under my bed and sprouted leathery green bat wings. Then he carried me off to hell. Ah woke up sweatin' like a boiled pig, and Ah don't even believe in hell. Ah don't want him near me no more."

  Victoria Hoar sighed. "I'll put Remo on you permanently. Chiun can handle everything else. Will that satisfy you?"

  "He's Satan!" Reverend Eldon Sluggard repeated.

  "Get a grip on yourself. You sound like one of those damned mullahs." Victoria Hoar sighed audibly and returned to her sheets. "We now have sixteen Reverend-Sergeants. They're fully indoctrinated. I think it's safe to take the three oldest and smartest ones and promote them to Reverend-Majors. I'm scheduling a ceremony for tonight at seven."

  "Yeah, yeah, good," Reverend Sluggard said distractedly.

  "I thought we might rush some of today's recruits through and let them in on the ceremony. Then you can give your little speech."

  "Uh-hum. "

  "They're so pumped up when they come in that I think we can risk processing them faster than before. Besides, with these numbers, I think we're going to have to move them into the Gulf sooner than we planned, before they cool down."

  "Right, right."

  "Are you lis
tening?" demanded Victoria Iioar, snapping her fingers in Sluggard's ear.

  "I wonder . . ." Reverend Sluggard said.

  "Yes?"

  "Who would send the devil to bodyguard me?"

  "Oh, for God's sake!" Victoria Hoar said, tossing her clipboard onto the plush seats. She turned to the captain. "Would you excuse us, please?"

  The captain crept away without a word.

  "What are you doin'?" Reverend Eldon Sluggard asked when he realized that nimble fingers were unbuttoning his Bermuda shorts.

  "Your brain is full of cobwebs," Victoria said sharply. "I'm going to blow it clean."

  "What? Oh!" said Reverend Eldon Sluggard when he felt his underwear descend.

  The last of the new volunteers had slipped through the gates and Remo was ordering them closed when he noticed Victoria Hoar approach.

  "Hi!" she said, flashing him an open smile. "Been avoiding me?"

  "Um, no," Remo said. "I've been busy."

  "Well, you're going to be busier. Reverend Sluggard has decided that you're going to be his personal bodyguard from now on."

  "What about Chiun? We've been switching off."

  "He'll continue with grounds security. But with the volunteers coming in so fast, Reverend Sluggard feels you should be at his side at all times."

  "I don't blame him. Some of these kids are pretty rowdy."

  "So I noticed," Victoria Hoar said dryly.

  "What kind of kids show up at a religious retreat armed and drunk?"

  "Reverend Sluggard is reaching out to the troubled youth of our times. It's only natural that we'd get some of the dregs, the junkies, the petty hoodlums. But don't worry. After a few days at our Christian Campground, they'll be marching to the drumbeat of the Lord."

  "Where is this campground?" Remo asked. "I noticed you've been busing them out of here every day." Victoria Hoar frowned. Why was Remo asking these questions? His face was not as open as it had been. He seemed more focused.

  "It's downriver. Don't worry. You'll get to see it. Reverend Sluggard is giving a talk there tonight."

  "I'll be interested in hearing it," Remo said levelly.

  "Actually, you may not get the chance," Victoria said quickly. "You'll probably be guarding the building."

  "A bodyguard usually guards the body, not the house that houses the body," Remo recited.