Warren Murphy: The Seventh Stone

"You know less about attention than you know about wisdom. A rolling stone gathers no moss; a wandering mind gathers all moss. They are very different," Chiun said.

"If you say so, Chiun," Remo said. He smiled at his teacher, who looked away, annoyed. Chiun was worried about Remo. The hiding time had still not passed for him, and he was out of touch with himself and his reason for being. He did nothing now except to perform unspeakable acts with that imposter posing as an actress, who didn't even know Barbra Streisand, and that was proof that there was something wrong with Remo.

Because he should not be paying so much attention to a woman and to sex; there were more important things for a Master of Sinanju, primarily training and contemplation. As it was now, Chiun had had to implore Remo to show up for this training session.

"Watch closely now," Chiun said.

"I am watching. Is this a test to see how long I last before I collapse of boredom?"

"Enough," Chiun muttered.

They stood on the beach of a deserted inlet on the undevloped side of the island. There were no buildings or people, no pleasure boats to smudge the umblemished line of the distant horizon. A strong southwest wind rippled the surface of the crystal blue water and tempered the heat of the midday sun.

Chiun walked to the edge of the water, glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Remo was watching, then stepped toward the frothy bubbles of the spent surf. As he took his first step, he began to wave his arms back and forth alongside his body, his fingernails pointed downward.

He walked out five steps, his arms still moving, then five more. Then he turned and walked back and stood before Remo.

"Well?" he said.

"That's the lesson for today?" Remo said. "Watching you take a walk in the water?"

"No, the lesson for today is the same as the lesson for every day: that you are truly an idiot. You saw me walk into the water?"

"Of course. I told you I was paying attention."

"Then look at my sandals," Chiun said. He raised one thin yellow leg toward Remo. His thin yellow shin peeked out from under the lifted edge of his dark red kimono.

Remo looked at the offered sandal, then leaned over to touch it. It was dry, bone dry. And yet he had just seen Chiun walk ten paces out into the ocean.

"How'd you do that?"

"If you were truly paying attention, you would know the answer," Chiun said. "Now this time, watch again. But with your eyes and mind open and your mouth closed, please."

Chiun repeated the stroll into the water and this time Remo saw that the back-and-forth motion of Chiun's arms at the sides of his body was setting up a pressure wall that literally pushed back the water from alongside him.

When Chiun came back, he said, "Did you see?"

"I certainly did," Remo said. "Do you know that Moses did that and he got five books in the Bible?"

To Chiun's unamused look, he quickly added, "Okay, Chiun, I liked it a lot. It was real nice."

"Nice?" Chiun shrieked. "A walk in a garden is nice. A cup of warm tea is nice. Clean underwear is nice. This? This is spectacular." His wispy white hair fluttered in the wind as he shook his head toward Remo.

"All right, Chiun. It's great," Remo said. "It must be terrific at beach parties."

"Do not patronize me, white thing," Chiun said. "This is a tool, not a source of amusement. With this, Wo Lee, the Nearly Great, once escaped an evil king by running through a pond of man-eating fish."

"Hold on. Wo Lee, the Nearly Great?" Remo asked.

"Yes. None other."

"Why was he 'the nearly great'?" Remo asked.

"Because he had the misfortune to select a pupil who did not pay attention."

"All right, enough. I'm paying attention. I just don't see a lot of practical value in being able to part the waters," Remo said.

"I thought it might be particularly helpful to you now that you've taken to loitering in damp caves with strange women," Chiun said. "Now you do it."

Just as Remo walked to the edge of the water, he heard his name called in a soft, pleasantly familiar voice. He turned to see Kim Kilev standing on one of the grass-capped dunes. Her aquablue swimsuit emphasized every curve of her fullbreasted supple body.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she said. "What are you two doing over on this side of the island?"

"Nothing," Chiun muttered. "Especially him."

"Let's go swimming then," Kim said with a smile. "The water looks beautiful."

"Good idea," Remo said. "Chiun, I'll practice later. I promise."

"Let us hope that later is not too late," Chiun said.

Kim Kiley said, "I brought a surfboard along. We can take turns on it." She pointed up to the tall saw grass where a long blue-and-white fiberglass board was lying.

"I'll go first," she said. "I want to get the board back by four."

"Go ahead," said Chiun. "You can take my turn too. Also Remo's."

"You're sweet," Kim said.

"Just what I was going to say," Remo agreed. Kim got the board and launched herself gracefully into the surf. After she cleared the crest of an incoming wave, she jockeyed herself into a sitting position and began to paddle farther out.

"This is impossible," Chiun said. "How can we accomplish anything with all these distractions?"

"This is a vacation," Remo reminded him. "Distractions are what vacations are all about. And anyway, Kim isn't 'all these distractions.' She's the only one."

"It only takes one for you to neglect your training," Chiun said.

Remo's reply was cut short by a cry for help. It was Kim's voice, raised in a thin plaintive wail as the wind carried it across the water. Remo shaded his eyes and spotted her, a tiny speck in the distance. Her head was just above the ocean's surface. Her arms were wrapped around the slippery surface of the board as it bucked and fishtailed, buffeted by the choppy wind-whipped waves.

Remo dived into the surf and swam toward her, his smooth powerful strokes eating up the distance between them. He felt a sense of exhilaration, of breaking free. He had not been able to concentrate during the brief training session; it was all part of that restless feeling that he kept thinking would go away but which he had not been able to shake for the last two weeks. But this, this now felt right.

Raising his head, Remo peered above the white-foamed waves to catch a glimpse of Kim as her hands lost their tentative grip on the board and with one more cry for help, she slipped beneath the surface.

Remo glided across the water now, moving through it not like a man but the way Chiun had taught him, like a fish, being in the water and of it. When he reached the spot where Kim had gone under, he kicked his legs back, twisted and dived. Even this far out, the water was crystal clear.

But he saw no sign of her. Where was she? He started to dive deeper when he felt the slight pressure of movement in the water behind him. He turned, expecting Kim and instead found himself suddenly entangled in a vast net. It closed around, covering him on all sides as if he were some kind of insect who had mistakenly strayed into a spider's waiting web. He struggled to break free, but the more he struggled, the more his twisting body became tangled up in the net. It clung to his arms and legs, and wrapped itself around his body and head. His vision was obscured by the fine, metal-reinforced mesh. Every move he made only bound him tighter.

Remo felt a flash of panic, not for himself but for Kim. She needed him. This was only a net, a simple fisherman's tool, he told himself. Nothing to get worked up about. He would break the net and then continue his search.

Back on the beach, Chiun watched the shadow cast by a ragged-leaf palm tree. Its length told him that two minutes had passed since he had seen Remo's head duck under the waves. Chiun thought he would head back to the condominium soon. It had been a trying day and a cup of tea would be soothing.