His scream was exquisite. He lifted up on tippytoe, found a higher register, and his eyeballs in his upward-pointing face started looking like white grapes being squeezed from wrinkled pink baby fists.
Twenty minutes later, Remo and Chiun were seated on a very clean polyester rug in the middle of Chiun's bungalow room eating rice off fine china supplied by the wife of the desk man, who had been exceedingly grateful to discover that his fingerbones, once he recovered his hand, were miraculously whole.
"Not bad," said Remo.
Chiun made an unhappy face. "The rice has been boiled. I asked for steamed."
"Maybe they don't steam their rice out here."
"Steamed rice is best. Whites insist upon boiling it. Whites and Chinese who try to pass for white."
"Maybe it's the cowboy way of eating rice," Remo suggested airily.
"Do not be ridiculous, Remo," said Chiun, putting the rice aside and attacking his duck. "Cowboys eat cows. That is why they are called cowboys."
Without looking at the clock radio, Remo said, "I'd better call Smith before he leaves Folcroft for the night."
"Leave him be. Smith will not be pleased that we have discovered nothing."
"Smitty will worry if we don't call in. This new President has him antsier than I've seen him in a long time."
Harold Smith picked up on the first ring.
"Remo, what have you to report?"
"Not a heck of a lot. This place is lousy with press and politicians, my two least favorite kinds of people."
"No progress?"
"We seen the bugs, we've seen the bug-eaters and we've seen the bug-eaters eat the bugs. If that's progress, I'm on the wrong planet."
"There may be a break coming."
"Yeah?"
"I was listening to Thrush Limburger today-"
"You too?"
"Everyone listens to Thrush Limburger," said Smith. "At any rate, he is coming to Nirvana West."
"Yeah, I heard," Remo said sourly. "Just what we need-an ex-disk jockey to add to the festivities. All that was missing was a sound track, anyway."
"Limburger claims that on tomorrow's broadcast he will reveal the truth about HELP."
"What's the big deal? People are eating bugs and getting sick from it. The nuns who raised me taught me not to eat bugs when I was five."
"And you minded them?"
"No, I marched right out and ate the first bug I come upon. I think it was a firefly. After I got better, Sister Mary Margaret whacked my knuckles with a ruler and I never ate another bug again. What these dips need is a nun with an unbreakable ruler, and the so-called HELP plague is over."
"The deaths are spreading to the non-PAPA population," Smith said.
"They are?"
"It appears that these bugs are common in many areas of the country. Where they aren't, a black market has sprung up."
"Wait a minute! You mean even though people are dying from eating this bug, they're paying money for the privilege?"
"How is that different from cocaine use, or gourmets who eat wild mushrooms, or puffer fish, which if improperly prepared can kill?"
"I still don't get it."
"That is because you have had a proper upbringing. But the President is very concerned. He has not said so in any specific way, but I believe we and CURE are on probation. As you know, there is talk of folding the CIA into the State Department, which would save five billion taxpayer dollars. Our budget is much greater than that. He is looking at us closely."
"Do tell."
"We must show results, Remo. I am counting on you."
"We'll do our best. Talk to you tomorrow."
Remo hung up and returned to his spot on the rug.
"You heard every word, didn't you?" he asked Chiun.
"I do not eavesdrop."
"You don't have to. You have the ears of a fox."
Chiun raised a correcting finger. "I have the ears of an owl. A fox's ears are ugly."
"Thrush Limburger is definitely coming here. He's supposed to have the whole thing figured out."
"Why are you telling me things I already know?"
"I ask myself that question all the time. Look, I know you're a Limburger fan-God knows why-but remember, we're on a secret mission."
"To save America from its latest vice, bug eating. What would this country do without us to save it from itself?"
"Dry up and blow away like the Roman Empire, I guess." Remo started for the door, saying, "I'll see you in the morning."
"Remember to shower."
At the door, Remo turned. "Why do you say that?"
"You reek of that woman."