"Aw, shucks," said Remo. "Twere nothin'."
"Twere too something," she said, smoothing her white nylon blouse down over her pillowy breasts. "You could take lessons from this man, Mr. Smirnoff," she called over Remo's shoulder. "You're supposed to be a pleasure machine, and you're not a pimple on his butt."
Remo turned. The android, Mr. Smirnoff, stood silently in a corner of the room looking at them. Was he watching? Listening? Or was he just propped up, empty, turned off? As he looked, Remo saw Mr. Smirnoff nod his head, as if in agreement with Dr. Carlton. Then his eyes turned and locked on Remo's. Remo turned away.
"Yes, you're really something, Browneyes."
"Yes, yes, yes, yes," Chiun said, "but we are here on important business."
"I never discuss business without a drink. Mr. Seagrams!" The self-powered cart rolled through the door and obeyed her command for a double dry, very dry, martini. She took a long sip of it while the liquor dispenser rolled away.
"Now what's on your mind?"
"You're going to announce the discovery of a new creativity program," Remo said.
Dr. Carlton laughed. "And you're going to walk on the ceiling."
"You have to," Remo said. Chiun nodded. "We need it to lure Mr. Gordons here."
"And that's just why I'm not going to do it. I've got no control over Mr. Gordons anymore. I don't know what he's likely to do if he shows up here. I don't need that headache. Why do you think I changed all the security at the entrances? No thank you. No thank you. No thank you."
"You misunderstand me," Remo said. "We're not asking you to announce the program. We're telling you to." Chiun nodded.
"That's a threat, I take it."
"You've got it."
"What have you got to threaten me with?"
"This," said Remo. "The government cut off the funds for this place. But you're still operating as merrily as ever. On what? With what? Two cents will get you four that it's Mr. Gordons's counterfeit money. The government takes a dim view of people, even scientists, who go around spreading funny money."
Dr. Carlton took another long sip from her drink, then sat at her desk. She started to answer, then stopped, took another sip of the martini, and finally said, "All right."
"No arguments?" asked Remo. "Just 'all right'?"
She nodded.
"What gave you the idea of programming Mr. Gordons for counterfeiting anyway?" Remo asked.
"You browneyed bastard," she said. "You were just guessing."
Remo shrugged.
"I didn't program him for counterfeiting," she said heatedly. "One day I had a staff meeting about our money problems. I said the government was destroying us. I think I said that if we had money, we'd survive. Money always means survival. Something like that."
She finished the drink with an angry swallow and bellowed again for Mr. Seagrams.
"Anyway, Mr. Gordons was in the room. He overheard. That night he left. The next day he sent me a pile of counterfeit money. To help me survive, the note said."
"And with perfect counterfeits, it was easy," Remo said.
"At first they weren't perfect." She paused while the liquor cart refilled her glass. "But I kept sending the bills back to him with suggestions. Finally he got them right."
"Well now, we're going to get him right. Tonight you announce a new creativity program. Announce that you're going to test it the day after tomorrow on a rocket launch from here."
"I'll do it," Dr. Carlton said. "But what chance do you think you're going to have against him? He's indestructible. He's a survivor."
"We'll think of something," Remo said.
But Remo had misgivings. In their room at the laboratory that night, he told Chiun, "It's not going to work, Chiun."
"Why?"
"Because Mr. Gordons will see through it. He's going to know it's a phony and we're behind it. It doesn't take the creativity of a snail to see that."
"Aha," Chiun said, raising his long-nailed right index finger skyward. "I have thought of that. I have thought of everything."
"Why don't you tell me about it?"
"I will." Chiun opened his kimono at the throat. "Do you notice anything?"
"Your neck seems thinner. Have you been losing weight?"
"No, not my weight. Remember the lead lump I have been wearing about my neck? It is gone."
"Good. It was ugly anyway."
Chiun shook his head. Remo was dumb sometimes. "That was a thing from Mr. Gordons. One of those beep-beeps your government is always using. An insect, I think you call them."
"A bug?"
"Yes. That is it. An insect. Anyway, I kept it and buried it in lead so Mr. Gordons would get no signals from it."
"So?"
"So when we came here, I took it out of the lead, so Mr. Gordons would get signals."
"Well, that's dumb, Chiun. Now he's going to know we're here. That's just what I said."
"No," Chiun said. "I put in it an envelope and mailed it away. To a place all Americans love and always go to."
"Where's that?"
"Niagara Falls. Mr. Gordons will see that we have gone away to Niagara Falls. He will not know we are here."
Remo raised his eyebrows. "It might work, Chiun. Very creative."