"Excellent work, Remo."
"You are both wrong," sniffed Chiun. "The Japanese are envious of American railroads. Their destruction is the insidious goal."
"Tell Chiun that the Japanese rail system is far more sophisticated than our own," Smith said. "And please return to Folcroft immediately."
Hanging up, Remo said; "You hear that?"
"The man is an inveterate rationalist."
"You're just jealous because I was right and you were wrong."
"You are never right and I am never wrong."
Just then the conductor accosted them and asked if they had tickets.
"I entrusted mine to this lackey," said Chiun, pointing at Remo while breezing haughtily past the conductor.
Chapter 23
Dawn was breaking over Folcroft Sanitarium when Remo and Chiun finally got back.
"What's the latest?" asked Remo.
Chiun flew to his steamer trunk, checked the lock to make sure it hadn't been tampered with, then relaxed.
Harold Smith was hollow of eye and voice. "There have been a half-dozen derailments and rail accidents overnight. The loss of life is significant. Almost thirty people."
Remo grunted. "You lose more people in one average plane crash."
"That is not how it will play in the morning papers," said Smith. "The National Railroad Passenger Corporation is known for its comparatively good safety record. This will be seen as a symptom of its decline and unworthiness to continue operating."
Remo frowned. "What's the National Railroad Passenger Corporation?"
"Amtrak."
"How do they get 'Amtrak' out of 'National Railroad Passenger Corporation'?"
Smith declined to reply. He was scanning his computer screen. There had been no movement on the part of the ronin in more than two hours. None of the three fake phone cards was in play.
"Guess he tucked himself in for the night," said Remo unhappily.
"The last location I have for him is Denver, Colorado."
"Want us to go there?"
"Not yet."
Chiun spoke up. "Emperor, where are the katanas of the ronin? I would like to examine them."
Smith pointed to one of a row of ancient oaken file cabinets that occupied a corner of the office. "Top drawer."
Chiun went to the one indicated and extracted the matched katana blades. Remo drifted up.
"A descendant of Odo of Obi forged these," Chiun said firmly.
"If you say so," said Remo. "What I'd like to know is how they rematerialize."
"A timer," Smith said absently.
"Oh, yeah?"
Smith nodded without looking up from his screen. "I discovered a minitimer in each hilt. Once the button is pressed, the dematerialized state is of short duration but can be regulated. That is how the ronin was able to decapitate the Texarkana engineer without entering the cab. He threw the blade through the windscreen, whereupon it rematerialized and decapitated him, then due to the speed of the oncoming train, buried itself in the bulkhead, solid once more."
"So how come it didn't break?" asked Remo.
"It is made of some metal or substance that is highly flexible yet strong. I have not yet identified it."
Remo shrugged. "At least we got some of his arsenal."
"By the way, I cleaned the battery contacts in the dead katana. It is working again. So be careful."
Chiun addressed Smith. "Emperor, might we be allowed time to ourselves?"
"Yes. Just remain within the building."
Tucking the blades under one arm, Chiun said, "Come, Remo. I have much to teach you before we confront the dastardly ronin once more."
"Teach me what?"
"The art of the katana. "
Remo blinked. "What happened to 'weapons sully the purity of the art'?"
"You have no blades to call your own. And there is no time to grow proper Knives of Eternity."
"So you're going to drag me into sword fighting?" Remo said doubtfully.
"It is a dubious exercise, I know. But to fight a ghost, one must employ arcane methods. To fight a ghost with a short-fingered accomplice such as yourself is folly."
Remo thought about that. "I think I've been insulted."
"Come."
Remo folded his arms. "Not a chance. You always taught me to disdain swords, so I'm abstaining."
"You cannot abstain when the honor of the House is at stake!" Chiun flared. He clenched his fists before him.