Warren Murphy - Lost Yesterday

He had manicured hair, a calm disposition, and was being lavished with praise from a reporter for his remarkable composure.

Remo gave the spokesman a light punch to the solar plexus, doubling him up to the applause of the rest of the hostages. Then he took the Powie whips and wrapped them tightly around Powie necks. He took the television camera cords and just as tightly wrapped them around the necks of the television reporters.

“You're free,” he said to the hostages. “Just stay here till the Marines arrive.”

Several Powies advanced on Remo and Chiun, firing machine guns taken from the American advisers. They stopped firing when Remo and Chiun mangled their hands and flung them and their weapons against the coral rocks.

When Rubin Dolomo heard the firing he ran to his command post atop the high ridge that divided Harbor Island, now his Kingdom of Alarkin.

He got reports immediately. It was the dark-eyed man with thick wrists.

“Absolute negativity has found us,” he said.

“Launch the secondary plan?” asked the engineer.

“Not yet. We got him with the solution before, we can get him again.”

Rubin Dolomo climbed up a little ladder atop the roof of his command post, and wheezing into a megaphone said:

“Here I am. Come after me, you negative force of evil. I am the leader of the Warriors of Zor, the light against darkness, the one truth that lives forever.”

Hearing this, Beatrice Dolomo told her two handsome Powie companions to put their clothes back on and rushed to the command post.

“Why are you telling him where we are?”

“Because I want him here, precious. We stalled him last time with just a little of the solution. This time we're going to send him back to the joining of his mother's egg and his father's sperm. I hope he likes the womb.”

At the perimeter of the hotel a light mist emerged from the ground like a fog shooting upward. Remo smelled the garlic and onion and moved back.

He saw Rubin and Beatrice Dolomo peering down at him through binoculars from the roof of one of the resort cottages.

“You stay away from that mist. I will get them. At least it is a proper assassination, even if they are two nothings,” Chiun said.

“Can't kill them. Got to find out where they secreted the formula and the rest of the solution,” said Remo.

“Of course, I should have known,” said Chiun. “This was too much like honorable work. I am still on a treasure hunt.”

Some of the reporters had heard the firing and now were focusing on Chiun as he moved through the fine spray.

“Another devotee of the embattled religious faith now goes to pay homage to his spiritual leader, Rubin Dolomo, as powerful nuclear aircraft carriers surround their little stronghold,” said the reporter into his microphone as Chiun moved on.

Rubin focused binoculars on the Oriental in the kimono.

“Saints have mercy, look at his skin,” said Rubin.

“Let me see,” said Beatrice.

“Look at the forehead. Look at the hands,” said Rubin.

“They're moving. They're shedding the formula,” gasped Beatrice.

“And the machine guns didn't work either.”

“We're trapped.”

“Not necessarily. Get the President on the phone, Beatrice. I want to speak to him.”

“Why you?”

“Because I know the alternate plan.”

Remo watched Chiun move through standard defenses: the guns, more formula (this time sprayed out of a cannon), iron bars, and flying darts, presumably coated with the formula. He knew Chiun was making slow work of it because he could have moved faster. But the flourishes of the arms and the kimono told Remo that Chiun was performing for the television cameras.

Suddenly his communicator started beeping as though the entire electronics had gone berserk.

Remo managed to press the correct button and got Smith's voice.

“Stop Chiun. Whatever you do, stop Chiun. Tell him not to advance on the Dolomos.”

“We have them.”

“Tell him to stop.”

“But we have them.”

“No. They have us. They have civilization. And they have no qualms about destroying it. Just tell Chiun to stop. I'll explain later.”

Remo yelled out in Korean for Chiun not to close on the Dolomos.

“Why not?” asked Chiun. “Is it too much like honorable work?”

“Something has happened. We have to back down.”

“In front of television reporters? In front of cameras? In front of the world?”

“Now. Yes. Now.”

“I will not endure such indignity. It is my last straw.”

“Then I am going to have to stop you, Little Father.”

“What insolence!” Chiun said. “We are in front of the world, Remo. I cannot afford to be seen to lose.”

“You mean you are going to have to kill me?”

“I cannot afford to be seen to lose,” Chiun repeated.

“Then go ahead and kill me,” said Remo. He skirted the area of the fine mist, looking for a dry spot inside the perimeter, and when he found it he did a forward tumble over the mist. He hoped it would not look too unusual to the cameras. He landed on the dry rock and advanced through the remnants of the defenses Chiun had already destroyed.

“Did you see that?” asked Rubin.

“Yes, can you imagine what he's like in bed?”

“I see now why he was able to get through bullets and everything.”

“He's so sexy,” said Beatrice.

“Do you think he'll take the older man?”

“He can take me,” said Beatrice.

The Dolomos watched as the Oriental in the kimono turned to face the oncoming white with the dark eyes and thick wrists. The two spoke an Oriental language they didn't understand.

Then the white threw the first blow. It was so fast they did not see it, but the eddies from the stroke fluttered the reddish-purple flowers of the bougainvillea.

The reason for surrender was as simple as it was horrifying. The Dolomos had made a demonstration of a small American city.

“Before you have your minions of evil finish us off, check Culsark, Nebraska,” Rubin had said.

“What's in Culsark?” asked the President.

And the President heard laughter.

“You check them now, because what happened to Culsark will happen to you. Will happen to Europe and Japan. We have devoted followers stationed at fourteen of the most vulnerable water supplies in the world. When you look at Culsark, look at the future of Paris, London, Tokyo, and Washington. Look at tomorrow, which doesn't remember yesterday.”

Smith, listening in, immediately ordered Remo to back down. It was just what he was afraid of.

“We can at least check on Culsark first,” suggested the President.

“No time. If my estimate of Rubin Dolomo is correct, he has his people set to go off without instruction. In other words, if they don't hear from him every so often, they unload the formula.”

“Then it will be done with.”

“Not if we don't know how long it lasts. Move it into a water supply and it might infect the world, for all we know. Imagine a world where no one knows how to read or can remember how to make bronze or steel. What we have here is something worse than nuclear weapons. We have the end of civilization.”

“We can't keep surrendering to them.”

“I'm sorry, sir,” said Smith. “We just have.”

The word from Culsark came quickly. State troopers found the population crying. They all were looking for someone else to bring them food and change their clothes.

Under orders to maintain secrecy so the entire country would not panic, state troopers wearing rubber suits moved the victims to a specially prepared hospital. The scientists Smith had recruited had found some success with flushing out the system immediately, although the long-term effects could not yet be determined.