"A trifle," said Chiun dismissively.
Smith composed himself. "I would like to know the truth."
"Which truth?"
"Master Chiun, America has paid you well."
"I do not dispute this."
"If it is a question of money, I will see what I can do. But I cannot promise anything," Smith said.
"It is not money. The work of America requires two Masters to perform. This has never been the case in the past. Unless one counts the days of the night tigers. In the days before Wang, a Master did not work alone. He was accompanied by his night tigers. It has been my lot to work for a client state that required me to train its own assassin. Not a Sinanju heir. But an assassin who belonged to a foreign emperor. In this I had no choice, for my first pupil had gone bad. There was no one to take his place. No one worthy."
"Remo is free-lancing?"
"Remo is vegetating. He will perform no service. Not that I could stop him if he so chose."
"Where is Remo?" Smith asked.
"I cannot tell you."
"You fear the competition?"
"I am beyond fear. My feelings are like the pit of a peach—hard and bitter. Sorrow sits like a wingless and wet bustard in my belly, for I have trained a pupil who will do no work."
"Remo has retired, then?"
"Pah! It is I who should retire. I forswore retirement and the comforts of my village to guide him through his assignments. Assignments he should have fulfilled on his own. And what did this wastrel give me in return for my sacrifice? Abandonment."
"Again?"
Chiun dropped his frail shoulders. "I have been dumped."
"Dumped?"
"It is a despicable custom of this ingrate land, I am told. Granny dumping."
"That does not sound like Remo," Smith said slowly.
"I have been betrayed by my American pupil. This land holds no more joy for me. Therefore, I must depart these bitter shores."
"What will you do?"
"I am too old to train another. Even if I found a worthy pupil, I do not have forty years to work another miracle. I have trained two Masters, and both have turned on me like vipers."
"I am prepared to offer you the same contract as before."
"And I have told you the work of America is too strenuous for my aging bones. I must seek less demanding an emperor."
"I am prepared to offer you the same contract as before to take your services off the open market," Smith countered.
"Who has said that the services of Sinanju are on the open market?"
"There was an incident at the United Nations yesterday. I believe you know what I refer to."
"Perhaps," Chiun said thinly.
"The same contract as before to do nothing."
"Alas, I cannot."
"Why not?"
"I cannot, O Smith, because it would dishonor my ancestors to accept gold for no work. This is not done. First it will be no work, then as you see your treasure deplete without return service, you will ask me to perform light errands, possibly janitorial in nature. It is a slow slide into servitude, and I will not countenance this."
"I am prepared to pay partial gold if you will refuse all offers from a list of nations I will draw up."
Chiun's back stiffened. "You seek to bribe me?"
"I am concerned about the security of the United States, as always."
"It is my duty to my House to weigh all offers and accept the most rewarding, for I am the last Master of Sinanju and there is none to take my place. The money I will earn before my days dwindle to nothingness will have to sustain the village for untold centuries to come. I cannot go into the Void knowing that my inattention to duty may lead to suffering in times to come."
"Without you the organization will have to be shut down."
"That is not my concern."
"And I must go with it."
Chiun's eyes narrowed to crafty slits. "If you can locate Remo, perhaps you can strike a deal with him."
"Tell me where he is."
"Consult your oracles. They may tell you. I cannot."
Harold Smith frowned. He stood up, his legs stiff. "This is your final word?"
"I am sorry."
"I must go now."
"If the the House survives my reign," said the Master of Sinanju, "know, O Smith, that the scrolls of Sinanju will record that this Master looked with favor upon his service to America and will record no objection to your lawful sons treating with my descendants."
"I have no sons," said Harold Smith coldly, turning and leaving the room without another word.
The Master of Sinanju sat quietly, his ears tracking the footfalls on the steps, the opening and closing of the door and the empty silence that followed.