Smith bent down and touched it. Feeling substance, he picked it up.
"Solid one minute and then the next not," he murmured.
Remo nodded. "Just like in Nebraska."
"Pressing the button caused it to dematerialize," said Smith.
"What caused it to undematerialize?" asked Remo.
"Sorcery," said Chiun.
"There is a logical, scientific explanation for this phenomenon," Smith insisted, "and I intend to discover it."
BACK IN SMITH'S OFFICE, the two katana swords lay on the black-glass-topped desk.
"Matter obeys fixed laws," said Smith.
"Sorcery obeys others," suggested Chiun.
He was ignored.
Leaving the second katana blade, Smith picked up the first. He pressed the button. Nothing happened.
"A button suggests what, Remo?"
"Turning something on or off, I guess."
"And that suggests. . ."
"Electricity."
"Exactly." Smith held up the end of the hilt, examining it carefully. He squeezed. He pushed. He pulled. But he obtained no result.
"You're not looking for batteries, are you?" asked Remo.
Chiun said, "The white mind is like a runaway train. It always follows the same track. Emperor, this is beyond your plodding white science. Do not attempt to fathom what you cannot comprehend."
"Let me try;" suggested Remo.
Smith handed over the katana.
Remo looked over the blade hilt.
"Feels pretty solid to me," said Remo, hefting it.
Chiun bustled up, saying, "Therefore, it is not."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That I am correct and you are not."
"Who lost the ronin in the cornfield?"
And while they were arguing, Remo squeezed the hilt and the end popped open like a flashlight.
Instinct caused Remo to release the hilt. Both he and Chiun flew to opposite sides of the room before the blade struck the floor. It bounced, and out from the open hilt spilled a train of short yellow cylinders.
Smith was coming around from behind his desk as Remo and Chiun approached the fallen blade with caution.
Smith picked up one of the cylinders. "A battery," he said.
"What make?"
Smith blinked. "I cannot read it."
Chiun took it from Smith hands. "Japanese! I was right! Look, Smith, it is Japanese."
"What is the brand name?"
"Who cares? It is Japanese. That is all that matters."
"I would like to know the brand name, please."
Chiun read the label.
"Gomi."
Returning to his desk, Smith got his computer up and running.
"What are you doing?"
"Researching the Gomi brand name."
"What good will that do?" asked Remo.
"The power required to enable that blade to defy scientific law is not likely to be something one purchases off the shelf. These batteries are specially made."
"For katanas?"
Smith nodded. "For katanas."
A minute later Smith said, "Gomi is the industrial brand name for Gomi products, and the brands Gomi and Hideo are connected to Nishitsu."
"Hideo was the name of the dozing yellow bull of Mystic," Chiun crowed.
"He means the bulldozer that was parked on the tracks at Mystic," explained Remo.