Skirting the edge of the park, he tried to force his eyes down. But as he walked, his troubled gaze was drawn to the activity.
He had decided that the bombs of Minister Deferens should be harnessed as a cleansing tool. But as he watched the children at play, the seeds of guilt sprouted full bloom.
As he circled the park, he tried imposing on the people nearby the same negative emotions he felt for Mandobar's criminal guests.
In the park, black and white were still largely separated.
Racial hatred. From both sides. Would that be enough to doom an entire city?
Fighting his own doubts now, Remo wanted more than anything to believe that everyone in Bachsburg was evil. But as he crossed the narrow footpath that sliced through the wide lawn, he found not evil, but hope.
On a wrought-iron bench, two women talked, one black, one white. Other racially mixed groups pushed strollers through the park or sat on blankets spread out on the grass.
The children seemed to care less about skin color than the adults. They disregarded race entirely, playing loudly and happily together. Sometimes a parent-mostly whites-would pull a child away from a group of mixed-race children, but by and large this was the exception.
The thing that had thrust East Africa into the international spotlight was hardly visible in this place. All around him was the joy and contentment of youth. Tomorrow it would all be ashes.
Stopping near a chain-link fence, Remo stuffed his hands into his pockets. His fingertips brushed a pair of familiar objects.
He had switched them from the pants he'd ruined in the sewer. At the time, he didn't know why he'd bothered.
In one hand, Remo held the cross given him by baby Karen's great-grandmother. In the other, the tiny stone figure that had been a gift from the child apparition.
He had been furious at the news accounts of the infant's death. He had wanted more than anything to bring her back to life, to be there to stop Brad Miller from murdering her in the first place.
The Master Who Never Was had spoken of Remo's destiny. Of the day he would bear the terrible, wonderful burden of the proud history of Sinanju on his shoulders.
And in that moment, Remo knew that no matter how he tried to rationalize it, this could not be his future.
In one palm, sunlight glinted off the shiny silver crucifix. In the other, the carved stone face no longer seemed flat. In the details of the mouth and eyes there seemed a quiet hope.
He stared at both objects for a long time. Thank you, Remo.
No one ever said that to him. No one would ever say it.
Thank you. It was something he longed to hear. But never would.
So many years. No difference ...no change...
By the time he looked back up, many of the parents were packing up their families and getting ready to leave.
How many hours had passed?
Slowly, with infinite care, he folded his hands shut. He replaced crucifix and carving delicately in his pocket.
When Remo turned his back on the park, his eyes were rimmed in red. He struck off across the street, heading slowly toward the hotel district. Not once did he look back.
Chapter 30
"Sometimes I really hate you."
The Master of Sinanju was sitting in the same spot where Remo had left him. His hazel eyes were knowing as Remo slammed the hotel-room door shut.
"Did you get our plane tickets?" Chiun queried.
"Cut the crap and get up," Remo snarled. "We've got work to do."
From the hall, he'd sensed someone else inside. Bubu stood from the couch as Remo crossed into the living area.
"Do you get a nickel every time you drive in and out of Luzuland?" Remo asked the native.
Bubu hesitated. "I do not mean to interrupt," he said, confused. "Master Chiun has told me that you were about to begin destroying the devices beneath the city."
Remo shot a glance at Chiun. "Did he," he said blandly. "Well, it was iffy for a while, but I guess it's made it onto the 'to do' list."
The Luzu smiled. "I am glad you have changed your mind, Master Remo," he said. "I was worried that you had taken my wish for the destruction of Bachsburg to heart."
"No fear of that," Remo replied, his face sour. "This town will stand as a testament to vice for years to come. Get a move on, will you, Chiun?"
The Master of Sinanju rose to his feet. "Bubu has something to tell you," he intoned.
"If it has something to do with the ranger shipping me off to a zoo, I'm not interested," Remo said.
"Listen," Chiun insisted. There was an urgency to his tone that Remo could not ignore.
"Okay, what? And make it snappy."
"After I left Master Chiun here in the city, I returned to my village. On the way, I encountered many aircraft. They flew above me across Luzuland."
Remo instantly thought of Deferens and his murder plot. "Were they going after Batubizee?" he asked.
Bubu shook his head. "At first I thought this, as well. I assumed the villains here had learned of the departure of Master Chiun and were hoping to attack before his return. I made haste back to my village only to find things as I left them. The helicopters from Bachsburg were not flying there, but to the evil city at the edge of Luzuland." The native nodded to the Master of Sinanju. "Master Chiun saw it on our way to the Luzu treasury."
"It is a small settlement," Chiun interjected.
"There are a few dozen homes, as well as one very large building."
Bubu nodded eagerly. "I led an expedition to the hills above this place. Many of the helicopters were there, as was the fiend Mandobar."
This got Remo's attention. "Mandobar?" he asked sharply. "Isn't he still in China?"
"The husband," Bubu stressed. "Not his wife, Nellie. She is bringing many of the evil chiefs to her right now."
Remo scrunched up his face. "Nellie Mandobar? I thought she faded away once Willie ditched her."
"No. She is here. Many are loyal to her still. The men from the helicopters embraced her."