"Now, these stories were told to Huk, whom the Assyrian king had contracted to penetrate the enemy king's fortress and dispose of him there, thus ending the threat of war. The Master Huk then journeyed to this fortress, which was in the land of the Medes, and on that journey, he thought long on the legends surrounding this king. Thus, by the time he stood before that fortress, he was frightened, for in truth he knew not what to expect beyond those walls. Not knowing which of the many powers this king actually possessed, he had to prepare to fight someone who possessed all of those powers. And not even the Master of Sinanju might prevail against such a one as described.
"But the Master entered the fortress and dispatched the advisor and guards of the first ring. Then he passed into the second ring, whose guards were better trained. And these he vanquished, too. The third ring was more difficult still, but Huk prevailed.
"Ring after ring the Master Huk passed through, each one more difficult than the last, until he at last came to the seventh ring, tired and wary. When he had vanquished the guards of the seventh ring, he captured its advisor, the one who alone was privileged to meet directly with the king. And outside the very throne room itself, Huk demanded of this advisor, 'What manner of being lies beyond this door?'
"And this man replied in this way, 'Beyond this door lies a man unlike any other.' And that was all the advisor would say, so Huk dispatched him and prepared to enter the throne room. And he trembled, for the unknown lay waiting for him, and while the Master of Sinanju fears nothing that he knows, only a fool does not fear what is not known. Remember this, Remo, for it is important.
"Putting aside his fear, Huk entered the throne room, where he found the king seated upon his throne. At first, he could not believe his sight and demanded, 'Are you the king I have come to slay?'
"And the king— for it was he— said to him, 'I am king of this land. But please do not harm me, for I am no match for you.'
"This caused the Master of Sinanju to laugh, for the king's words were true. The king was a mere dwarf whose limbs were twisted by deformity. And Huk knew then that his fears were groundless and caused by legends deliberately created by the king and his advisors, who had concealed the truth through cunning methods so that this king would be obeyed by his awestruck subjects, who would otherwise have deposed him. And so, laughing at his own fears, Huk dragged this drawf king out of his fortress and exposed him for all to see."
"Then he let him go?" Remo asked.
"No. Then he slew him in front of his subjects as a warning to any who would dare attack Assyria."
"Oh," said Remo, who knew there was a point to their story but couldn't see it. "That fortress was a snail maze, right?"
"Wrong."
"But the way Huk got to the throne room applies to the snail maze?"
"Oh, Remo, you are hopeless. That has nothing to do with it."
Remo looked perplexed. Finally, he said, "I give up. What's the point?"
Chiun stood up abruptly. "Never mind," he said peevishly. "I have wasted a good legend. So be it. You will learn the lesson of Huk the hard way."
Remo got to his feet. Why couldn't Chiun just come out and make his points in plain English? Sometimes these legends could be a royal pain.
"Okay, how are we going to take this snail maze?" Remo asked.
Chiun looked toward the maze, measured a distance from the single white door to a point directly north of it with his eyes, and walked toward that point. Remo followed.
"The snail maze can be breached," Chiun was saying, "and because of that possibility, there is always an escape tunnel which leads from the center to the outside. It is always a prescribed distance north... ah, here." He upended a flat boulder, disclosing a dark hole. "This tunnel will be a straight line longer than the spiral path, but it will be guarded at its other end, Remo."
"Yeah?"
"One of us must take the snail maze to keep this Hopak Kay busy. The other will go by the tunnel."
"Wanna flip for it?" Remo suggested.
"No," Chiun said. "I do not. I will let you take the snail maze because you can learn from it. Remember that there are traps along the way. The rest you must discover for yourself."
"Okay, Little Father," Remo said, moving off. "Last one in has to cook tonight."
* * *
Pavel Zarnitsa had read in Izvestia that American cars were badly made in comparison to the Russian Volga. After ten minutes of trying to spring the trunk lid lock, he was beginning to wonder. It seemed awfully sturdy. The hinges were strong, too, so he gave up on those, as well.
It might have been better to stay put, but the American and the Korean were obviously agents for the United States government, who would not treat a compromised KGB agent with the same politeness given to Russian dignitaries found stealing military secrets. It would be prison, not expulsion, for Pavel Zarnitsa.
So Pavel tried another tack. He tore at the carpeting that separated the trunk space from the back of the rear seat. It came loose. Behind it was a partition, which also came loose and exposed the back seat itself. When this was forced, there was a clear opening into the back seat.
Pavel crawled out of the trunk and stepped from the car. He was free, but he had no intention of running. There was still the matter of the strange creature from another world who had called him by name. Pavel Zarnitsa intended to solve that mystery.
* * *
The white door opened automatically for Remo when he approached it. He could sense the remote cameras watching his every move. He stepped into the blue building, and the door closed after him.
Remo found himself in a curving corridor, white and smooth and winding to his left. He began to walk. Light came from indirect ceiling panels. There seemed to be no danger. In fact, the curving corridor reminded him a little of walking through a fun house back in Palisades Amusement Park, where his orphanage had once been taken on an outing. He had only gone a few feet when he noticed that the natural curve of the path prevented him from seeing more than a few feet ahead or behind him. More disturbingly, he realized that the path was forcing him to move along a continuous outside line. In Sinanju, there were two forms of attack— the outside attack, which was a circle, and the inside attack, which was a line. Remo realized then that any attack would come from ahead or behind, and from the right outer wall, where an inside attack would be the only defense.
The first attack came from the right. Three knives rammed out of the wall at knee level to cripple his legs. But Remo caught the preliminary sound of a concealing panel flopping back and reversed himself in time. The knives embedded themselves in the opposite wall.
Remo walked on.
The second attack came when Remo began to feel himself favor his left, even though he knew that side was probably safe. He tried to avoid hugging the wall, but the spiral path wouldn't let him. It had started to tilt slightly to the left so Remo had to walk that way, as if one of his legs was shorter than the other.
Then a ball of flame appeared at his back, forcing Remo forward. He ran, aware that the flame might be more of a prod than a direct threat. And because of that awareness, he did not crash headlong into the almost invisible pane of glass, which, had he struck it, would have shattered into dangerous razorlike shards.
Remo found the edges of the pane and scored it using one very short but hard fingernail. A kick sent the pane to the ground, where it broke harmlessly on the floor. Chiun would have liked that.
Remo continued on with more confidence— or perhaps because the spiral shrank as it got closer to the center, he found himself moving faster. He tried to slow down, but when everything in two directions seemed to curve into infinity, judging distance and speed became difficult.
Remo heard the next obstacle before he saw it. Someone moaned just ahead. Putting his back to the left wall, he inched sideways toward the sound so he'd be less of a target.
Amanda Bull lay on her back in a pool of blood. Remo knelt beside her, and she opened her eyes.
Amanda coughed a bubble of blood. "Tricked..." she gasped. "He tricked me. Tricked all of us."
"Where are the others?" Remo asked.
"Dead... all... dead..."
"The warhead— do you know where I can find it?"
"Tulsa," Amanda said with effort. "In truck. Will go off... three hours. Look— look for plain truck with blotches of paint on sides. Find—"
"Easy," Remo told her.
"He— shot— me," Amanda continued, her gray eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I... trusted him and he shot me... I was such a jerk. Believing a man."
Then she died.
"That's the biz, sweetheart," Remo said and moved on. "They should have drowned you at birth."