"Let me speak with Don Cooder."
"He's covering the Lincoln Tunnel collapse."
"Really?" said Randal. "It collapsed, huh? Maybe I'll rebuild it. How about the baby-maker-what's her name?"
"Cheeta Ching?"
"That's the one. Put her on. Tell her Randal Rumpp is offering her an exclusive in the Rumpp Tower spectacular."
"Spectacular?"
"You are covering this story, aren't you?"
"As a matter of fact, Miss Ching is down on Fifth Avenue now."
"Great. Tell her to meet me in the lobby in five minutes."
"But-"
Randal Rumpp hung up. He went to a wall mirror and primped his hair, straightening his fire-engine-red Hermes tie. He had to duck and twist to see himself clearly, inasmuch as he had had his last name etched vertically into the mirror surface. It was an antique, for which he had overpaid. But with his name on it, it was sure to fetch a princely sum when he got around to selling it.
"I look great," he said. "A winner."
As he walked past his secretary he said, "If anyone wants me I'll be down in the lobby, schmoozing with the media."
The woman looked up, pale and drawn. "There are no media in the lobby."
"There will be by the time I get down there," Randal Rumpp said confidently.
It was a prediction that proved true only because the elevators had gone dead. Randal Rumpp began the slow, tortuous stairwell descent to the lobby, vowing that when things got back to normal he would have a greased brass firepole installed in a masonry column, so if this ever happened again he could zip down to the lobby, just like Adam West.
Chapter 8
Up close, the Rumpp Tower looked more charcoal than bronze. Dying sunlight made it smolder, as if fires lurked beneath its opaque surface.
Remo looked around. Fifth Avenue was deserted in both directions for several blocks. It was a strange sight. But it enabled them to work unchallenged.
"He stepped into the lobby and just fell out of sight," Cheeta was explaining.
"Ridiculous," snorted Remo.
"Supernatural," said Delpha.
"I saw it all," added Chiun. "From my place of vantage. Before him, a lowly fireman was pulled down to a like fate."
Cheeta Ching looked startled. "You were here before, Grandfather?"
"In my secret capacity, I was studying the fate that has befallen this mighty but hideous structure."
"Was there nothing you could have done?" Cheeta asked, to Remo's relief. She hadn't seemed to pick up on Chiun's broad hint that he worked for someone important.
"Alas, no," said Chiun. "For when confronted with the unknown, the first rule of Sinanju is to observe, lest one become ensnared along with lesser mortals."
"Very wise," said Delpha.
"That's why I made my cameraman go in ahead of me," Cheeta said.
"You sent your cameraman in to his death?" Remo blurted.
"He is not dead," Delpha intoned, snatching the hand of glory from Remo. "He has merely gone to another realm."
"Bull! There's gotta be a scientific explanation for what's happening here."
"Self-blind science cannot explain all," Delpha insisted.
"Sure it can."
"Then why do men have nipples?"
That stumped Remo. While he was pondering the imponderable mystery, Cheeta snapped her fingers and offered a theory of her own.
"I know! It's a dimensional rift opening up."
"Huh?"
"Our planet is intersecting with a parallel dimension, causing an exchange of realities."
"Bull!" Remo exploded.
Chiun cut in. "Silence! Speak, child. Tell us more."
"It's just a theory," Cheeta said slowly, "but I think the tower is slowly entering the Fifth Dimension, or a parallel reality."
"Why?"
"Maybe it's a cultural exchange."
"With who?" Remo snorted. "Rod Serling?"
"Remo!"
Remo subsided. Cheeta went on.
"With any luck," Cheeta said smugly, "we'll get a skyscraper of theirs in exchange."
"What if they don't have skyscrapers in Dimension X?" Remo asked dryly.