"Hold?" Nellie frowned. "Hold what? I am getting out of here."
In the yellow glow of her flashlight, Remo's smile was demon sent. "Lady, you couldn't be more wrong."
With a push, he dumped the bomb down the kimberlite. It disappeared inside the smothering blackness. As the nuclear device began its endless tumble through space, Remo spun to the former first lady of East Africa.
"Night-night, Margaret Dumont."
Her flabby face was just knotting in confusion when Remo reached out and tapped the center of her forehead. Nellie Mandobar's crazed eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed to the rock floor.
They left her unconscious in the kimberlite alcove.
Racing out into the main tunnel, Remo and Chiun flew down a few dozen feet. Each Master of Sinanju took a position on either side of the main path next to one of the support columns. A sharp nod and two tight fists shot out simultaneously.
The rotten wooden columns splintered at the center, bringing down the lintel above, as well as much of the cave roof. When the rock ceiling collapsed, Remo and Chiun were already gone.
They ran up the tunnel side by side, their legs harmonious blurs. Every time they passed another set of columns, hands shot out, pounding wood.
Walls and ceiling shook as if clutched in an angry fist. Even the floor seemed to buck as they raced through the rising hail of dust and stone.
Ahead, a stab of washed-out gray. A hint of starlight.
Running faster. Legs invisible, arms flashing, smashing columns to splinters of creosote-soaked wood. The dust cloud racing ahead, obliterating the cave entrance. A final rumble. Rocks collapsing above them.
A final surge propelled them through the storm and out the cave mouth. They sprang into the fresh warm air. Behind them, the cave vomited a massive burst of dust at the sky.
At the appearance of Remo and Chiun, a cheer went up from the assembly of Luzu warriors. Faces beaming pure joy, Bubu and Chief Batubizee broke from the crowd, running over to the two Masters of Sinanju.
"Master Chiun!" Batubizee whooped.
"Master Remo!" Bubu cried at the same time. Remo held off an embrace from the young native. "Before you bust out the champagne, maybe we should put some distance between us and that," he suggested, nodding back to the tumble of rocks that obscured the old cave mouth.
The Luzus nodded. With Remo and Chiun in the lead, the triumphant natives marched down the hill, leaving the dust and rocks of the collapsed cave to settle on the final resting place of both Nellie Mandobar and her twisted scheme.
Chapter 39
The explosion came in the wee hours of the morning, at the time when Nellie's party would have been winding down. Remo and Chiun alone felt the gentle rumble of earth. They sat on rocks near the dusty well in the middle of the Luzu village. All around, natives danced and sang. To Remo, what appeared to be a Luzu conga line pranced past for the millionth time. He was called to join but declined.
"Don't they ever get tired?" Remo asked.
The celebration had begun at their victorious return. Although dawn had long started to streak the sky pink, the party showed no sign of stopping.
"They have had little to celebrate for many years," the Master of Sinanju replied simply,
"I suppose." Remo nodded. The soft rumbling beneath their feet began to slow. It faded to a shuddering stop. "Looks like that shaft was deep enough to hold the blast. You think Nellie's awake by now?"
Chiun raised his shoulders indifferently. "Assuming the tunnel where we left her did not collapse, too."
"With any luck, she's sucking on radioactive dust and digging like mad," Remo commented with satisfaction.
Chiun was deeply unconcerned. He watched a dancing figure across the square.
Bubu was swaying in place, his arms waving in time with a rhythm that was being tapped out on a primitive drum. Remo was again impressed by the native's innate grace.
Chief Batubizee stood near the younger man. The Luzu leader was smiling and clapping. Around Bubu a dozen Luzu women watched him dance with giggling glee.
"What's with the belle of the ball?" Remo asked, nodding to the young native.
"As eldest son of the chief, Bubu has his choice of consorts," the Master of Sinanju explained. Remo's head snapped around. "Bubu is Batubizee's kid?"
Chiun inspected his pupil's face. "Are you embarrassed now for making sport of his name?" Remo considered. "Not really," he admitted. "I'm just surprised no one mentioned it."
The Master of Sinanju leaned close. "Do you realize, Remo, that you saved the life of the chief's son?"
"What, in Bachsburg?" Remo shook his head "He was fine. I just pulled him out of the sewer."
Chiun pitched his voice low. "Do not allow silly modesty to ruin what is potentially a good thing," he said craftily. "You are now a hero to these people. For Bubu will one day succeed his father as ruler of all the Luzu. And if nothing else, the lesson of Nuk teaches us that the potential payday from the Luzu can be great indeed."
A faint smile crossed the face of the younger Master of Sinanju.
"Did I say something humorous?" Chiun asked.
"No, Little Father. It's just that I feel kind of good. You know, by helping Bubu I sort of helped their future." He waved an arm, encompassing the entire Luzu nation. "I was worried about saving the whole world before, but maybe I just need to save a little piece of it every now and then."
As he spoke, he fished absently in his pocket. He studied the carved face of the stone figure the small Korean boy had given him.
His thoughts were on the future. On his future.
"May I see that?"
Chiun's hushed voice shook him from his reverie. When Remo looked up, the harsh lines of his teacher's face were smooth.
"You seemed spooked by it before," Remo said, handing it over.
As he studied the figure, a hint of an unfamiliar emotion passed across the old man's weathered face. "Surprised, that is all," Chiun replied softly. "I have not seen a carving like this in many years."
"You've seen one before?" Remo asked, surprised.
Chiun nodded. "I have many of them stored in a chest in the Master's House in Sinanju. I have not looked at them in a long, long time." His voice grew faraway. "My son Song used to carve them with his nails for the children of the village." The old man had taken years to tell Remo about Song, his son and first pupil who had died in training. And in that moment, Remo understood the true identity of the Master Who Never Was.
"I thought you said Song was almost nine when he died," Remo said quietly. "The boy I saw couldn't have been older than six."
When Chiun looked up, there was flitting sadness in his hazel eyes. But when he beheld the deeply sympathetic face of his pupil, his smile returned. "The Void reflects your true self," he explained. "My son who died was younger than his years because I tried to force him to grow up too quickly. It gladdens me to know that, in death, he is enjoying the childhood that I in my stubbornness would not permit him to have." He started to hand the figure back.
Remo shook his head. "You should keep it," he insisted.
But the old Korean shook his head. "I told you, I have others. This was a gift from my son in flesh to my son in spirit. Treasure always this gift from your brother, Remo."