Warren Murphy - Power Play

"I wanted to speak to you about that," Chiun said. "What would it be worth to you to use your legs again?"

"Anything."

"You will publish my stories?" Chiun asked.

"I'll publish your damn poetry," Pruiss said.

"We have a bargain," Chiun said. "Go to sleep. I must prepare."

He followed Remo out of the room.

"Prepare?" Remo said. "What are you going to prepare?"

Chiun shook his head. "That is just for effect. There is nothing to prepare."

"And you're going to make him walk again?" asked Remo.

"Of course. He can walk now," Chiun said.

"How do you figure that?"

"You did not really believe that that Indian charlatan was bringing life back to his limbs by allowing his legs to sunburn, did you?"

"No. Of course not," said Remo who was not quite that sure.

"But Mister Pruiss felt life in his limbs every morning," said Chiun. "After his sunbath."

"So?"

"And then the manly woman brought him inside again to give him his medicine and he felt no more life in his limbs."

Remo slowly began to nod.

"She called it medicine to kill Mister Pruiss's pain. But I tasted it while you were gone. It is medicine that keeps his limbs paralyzed. I have thrown it away. Without it, tomorrow his legs will return to life."

"You're awful, Chiun," said Remo.

Chiun looked at him with an angelic blank expression.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked.

"Some people will do anything to get published," he said.

Chiun smiled, "And what of the woman?" he asked.

"I'll take care of her," Remo said. "I'll take care of all of them."

The next morning, when the previous day's medicine had worn off. Wesley Pruiss felt life returning to his legs. The feeling grew stronger all day long.

Two days later, he was able to stand again, and within two weeks he was walking.

A day later he held a press conference and announced that he was returning the ownership of Furlong County to the people of the county who had been "so hospitable and gracious in welcoming me among them." He also announced that he was setting up a private foundation that would go ahead with his plans to make Furlong County the nation's solar energy laboratory, and he would pick up all the bills for the work.

His final announcement was that he was beginning a new magazine. It would be dedicated to bringing to the public a realization of the ancient glories and beauties of the great Korean literary form, Ung poetry.

Pruiss's announcements did not get the kind of Page One coverage they normally would have. Unfortunately, they were crowded off the front pages by a terrible tragedy at the Furlong County Airport.

A gang of muggers, whom no one had seen but who must obviously have been a large gang, had fallen upon three people at the airport — Theodosia, Rachmed Baya Bam and Will Bobbin. In the melee all three were killed. The murder weapons were unusual red-handled knives, with rearing stallions engraved on the blade.

The only person noticed near the scene was a dark-haired white man with thick wrists.