Warren Murphy: Lost Yesterday

“No,” said Chiun.

Beatrice, realizing Rubin was going to enjoy himself recounting his victories, went downstairs out of the sun after telling the young white that he would be next.

Remo didn't know which was worse, being downstairs with Beatrice in her boudoir or up on the roof of the command post with Chiun telling Rubin how brilliant he was. The problem was that Rubin did have a good deal of cunning. The whole civilized world was vulnerable to him.

It was then that Chiun told him he didn't need the hostages. Rubin agreed. The hostages were a weak step. One must never use weaker when one had stronger.

Chiun told him he already knew elements of Sinanju. But when Chiun himself began teaching the first steps of breathing to Rubin, and then by some communication network to some nuts called the Warriors of Zor, Remo left the roof of the command post. He wandered over to the hostages, who were holding their final press conference.

“We have learned the other side at last,” said the pilot.

“A deep spiritual communion with our fellowman,” said the spokesman for the hostages.

Remo, now acknowledged as working for the Dolomos, was able to order Powies around. He told them to collect all the newsmen in one corral, print, television, and radio. Then he had all the film removed and destroyed. That took care of anyone recognizing him.

He put the hostages on boats back to Eleuthera and told the Powies to gather at the north corner of the island.

“I don't want anyone going into the homes of the island. Stay here.”

“Is this part of Sinanju? Mr. Dolomo has been combining Sinanju with Poweressence. He has a new Warrior of Zor. His name is Chiun. We heard his voice on our radios. Are you Sinanju?”

This from a young girl who was indeed using the beginner's breathing technique.

“Yeah. I'm Sinanju.”

“This breathing is wonderful. It's so powerful,” said the young woman. “We want to know more. What shall we do?”

“Do push-ups,” said Remo.

“Is that Sinanju?”

“Sure.”

“After the push-ups what should we do?”

“Do more push-ups,” said Remo. “But don't leave this spot.”

“Because the breathing force will be lost?” asked the young woman.

“No, because I'll kill you all if you do,” said Remo. He walked back through the harbor, past the pleasant pastel houses which were now opening their doors. Children played in the streets and old women set out their market baskets under the large trees where they had sold their goods for years. Fishermen, too, were taking off for the reefs to catch the spiny lobster and grouper.

The Bahamian air was pleasant on this island and Remo loathed every breath he took of it.

He caught Chiun and Rubin Dolomo at dockside. Rubin was beaming with new energy. He threw his pills into the harbor.

“I have Sinanju,” he said. “I never need anything else again.”

“Sure,” said Remo. He saw that Chiun's hand was almost always on Rubin's spinal cord. It wasn't Rubin who was creating the energy within him but Chiun, manipulating the nervous system to send false signals of well-being to the brain. It was a form of drug. Rubin was not cured of anything.

“We are off, Remo,” said Chiun. “We will be back shortly with His Majesty's defenses strengthened.”

“He's a genius, your father. Did you know that?” said Rubin.

“Yeah, he's wonderful,” said Remo.

“You know we could have all been wiped out if it weren't for him.”

“Wouldn't want that to happen,” said Remo.

“Do you know what would happen if the solution were released by accident? We could have America believing the war was on and they would hit us with everything they had.”

“Awful,” said Remo. He couldn't look at Chiun.

“Or what would happen if all the governments of the world started looking quietly for our people and were to strike only when they knew where all of them were? We would be defenseless. You see, they can't be allowed to find them. Your father is a genius, boy.”

“Certainly does have smarts,” said Remo. He looked down at the coral rocks of the harbor. The sea was the same. Maybe all this would pass someday, he thought. But he realized it would never pass from his mind.

“Aren't you going to wish him good luck?”

Remo turned from Chiun and walked up the hump of the island, and then down through a path to Pink Beach, where he dug his feet into the sand and very quietly said, “Shit.”

* * *

In the White House Smith did not know that Chiun was already one step ahead of him.

“It's not hopeless, just colossally difficult,” said Smith. “We know there are fourteen bags of the solution outside Harbor Island. We know there is one inside. There are therefore fourteen bags around the world we have to find.”

“But if we burst one, the others will release their solutions into their respective cities. Civilization will still be gone.”

“Of course,” said Smith. “So what we do is back off, and we have already done that. We have the world on our side. We have every police force and intelligence agency on our side. It will not take long to locate all fourteen of those rubber bags and then strike simultaneously.”

“Can we do it legally?”

“He's declared war on the world. He is a national power in that hocus-pocus country of Alarkin.”

“It might work. It's got to work,” said the President. He had forgotten where he had put his pen, but he didn't want to let Smith know that. He often forgot little things but now he was aware of them, acutely aware.

Within two days the worst possible news came from around the world. Indeed, the locations of the fourteen bags had been discovered. But they were all gone, hidden somewhere else by two men fitting the descriptions of Rubin Dolomo and Chiun.

In fact, one police force did catch up with the pair and arrested them with a special squad of combat-ready police. That squad was now recovering in a Brussels hospital. Most of them would, sometime in the future, be able to walk.

But the fourteen bags were gone without a trace. Dolomo and his friend had positioned them so brilliantly that no neighborhood, no local precinct nor intelligence agency, no matter how ruthless and extensive, was able to find them. Because of Chiun, the world was more vulnerable than ever before.

* * *

Chiun returned with Rubin in triumph. Remo, who had spent that time on Pink Beach watching sunrises and sunsets, came back to see what Chiun had done.

Beatrice was delighted to see Remo again and asked where he had been hiding. She was even more delighted to see Chiun. Several of the Powies had succumbed to heat exhaustion because someone had told them to do push-ups and nothing else.

“We've got to restore order to the island,” said Beatrice.

“Most certainly, your Majesty,” said Chiun. “For I must keep a promise.”

“He's brilliant. As brilliant as I am,” said Rubin. “Do you know why we will never be exposed now?”

Beatrice shook her head.

“Because everyone is looking for something that doesn't exist. We brought the bags back here. It's all here.”

“But what if they attack here? That was the point of putting them all in different places around the world.”

“But they're not going to. Chiun understands the human mind even better than I do. What we had was not fourteen bags of solution ready to contaminate key water supplies of the world. What made us powerful was that the American government feared we did. They still do. And now they will never be able to find them.”

“Going to hide them under Pink Beach in that room?” asked Remo.

“Of course,” said Rubin. “You there, boy, carry the bags.”

“Do as he says,” said Chiun.