Later, as Remo was drifting off to sleep, Chiun said, "Do not feel bad, Remo. You will be creative too one day. Maybe Dr. Carlton will make a program for you." And he cackled.
"Up yours," Remo said, but very quietly.
The next day, Dr. Carlton's announcement had appeared in the press. It came to the attention of two sets of eyes: the brilliant eyes of Dr. Harold W. Smith and the electronic sensors that reposed behind the plastic face of Mr. Gordons. Both had boarded planes for Cheyenne, Wyoming.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was late the next day when Dr. Harold W. Smith presented himself at the steel gate outside the Wilkins Laboratories.
Remo was in the office with Dr. Carlton when she demanded to know who was at the door.
"Dr. Harold W. Smith," came back the voice.
Remo took the microphone from Dr. Carlton.
"Sorry. We have all the brushes we need," he said.
"Remo? Is that you?"
"Who's Remo?" asked Remo.
"Remo. Open this gate."
"Go away."
"Let me talk to someone in possession of all his faculties," insisted Smith.
Remo handed the microphone back to Dr. Carlton. "He must want to talk to you."
"Do you think I've got all my faculties?" she asked.
"You've got all of everything," Remo said.
"You really think so?"
"I've always thought so."
"What are you going to do about it?" Dr. Carlton asked.
"I know what I'd like to do."
"Yes?"
"But."
"But what?"
"But I don't really feel like making love to you and that computer too."
"Screw the computer," Dr. Carlton said.
"It'll have to wait its turn," said Remo.
"Remo, Remo," squawked Dr. Smith's voice.
Remo picked up the microphone. "Wait there a few minutes, Smitty. We're busy now."
"All right, but don't take forever."
"Don't tell him what to do," Dr. Carlton said into the microphone. She turned it off and said to Remo, "I don't like Dr. Smith."
"To know him is to dislike him. To know him well is to detest him."
"Let him wait."
Dr. Smith waited forty-five minutes before the steel panel opened. He walked along the corridor and the steel wall opened and he entered to find Remo and Dr. Carlton sitting at her desk.
"I knew you'd be here," he told Remo. "You're Dr. Carlton?"
"Yes. Dr. Smith, I presume?"
"Yes." He looked through the open doorway to the three-story-high control panel of the computer center. "That is quite something," he said.
"Mr. Daniels," she said. "Jack Daniels. There's nothing like it in the world."
"How many synapses?" asked Smith.
"Two billion," she said.
"Incredible."
"Come, I'll show you," and she rose to her feet.
Remo waited but was finally disgusted by so many "incredibles" and "marvelouses" and "wonderfuls" that he went back to his room, where Smith joined him and Chiun later and reported on Mr. Gordons's latest demand.
"Well, don't worry about it," Remo said. "He'll be here."
"I think he is here," Smith said. "There was a passenger booked on an earlier flight. Mr. G. Andrew. I think it was him."
"Then we'll see him in the morning."
Smith nodded and then said nothing more until he left for his room to sleep.
"The emperor is disturbed," said Chiun.
"I know it. He thinks this and he thinks that. When did you ever hear Smith anything less than positive?"