Chiun nodded. "If you insist, Emperor. With supervision," he added quickly.
"That is a relief," Smith said. He turned his attention to a more urgent matter. "What happened, Remo? Presumably Elizu Roote caused these injuries."
Remo leaned his fists on the unmade bed. "Chiun didn't tell you?" he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"No."
"I did not want the Emperor to think I endorsed your tall tale," Chiun interjected. Frowning, he sank to a lotus position in the center of the floor.
Remo took a deep breath. "Okay, first off, this is gonna sound crazy, Smitty," he cautioned.
"Go on," Smith pressed.
"I found the guy in a bar off the base. There were three bodies there already. They all looked like burned toast. When I tried to take out Roote, he zapped me."
Smith crinkled his nose at the word. "What do you mean?"
Remo raised his hands in an impression of Elizu Roote. "Zapped," he explained. "There was this kind of...jump of electricity. From all of his fingers. He had some kind of weird fingertips. Like metal. Anyway, the voltage must not have been as high as what he used on the dead guys, because I was able to throw most of it off. He did manage to overload my system. Next thing I remember was waking up with Chiun staring down at me."
"An angelic vision after your walk through the valley of the shadow of death," the old Asian said blandly.
"Chiun thinks I'm crazy," Remo said.
"I believe no such thing, Emperor Smith," Chiun interjected quickly, lest their employer think madness an excuse to seek a discount for their services. "Remo has been gravely injured. I believe his mind, as well as his body needs time to heal properly."
It was as if Smith didn't even hear Chiun. He took a seat next to Remo's bed.
"Out of his fingers?" he asked, intrigued. Remo seemed mildly surprised that Smith hadn't already laughed him out of the room.
"Yeah," he said. "He aimed both hands at me like he was freaking Bela Lugosi, then fired."
"What about his fingers?" the CURE director pressed.
"What do you mean?"
"You said they were metal?"
"Oh, yeah," Remo nodded. "Sort of. But not all of them. Just the tips. The electricity came from there."
Smith considered Remo's words. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded slowly.
"It makes some sense," he admitted somberly.
"It does?" Chiun asked, surprised.
"It does?" Rerno echoed, just as amazed.
"Yes," Smith said, "it does." He turned to the Master of Sinanju. "Master Chiun, you must admit that it would take a powerful force to overcome Remo's training."
"Of course," Chiun sniffed. "He is Sinanju."
"Therefore, although you are understandably skeptical, you know that Remo must have encountered something unusual. Surprising, in fact."
"Possibly," Chiun conceded slowly.
"What could be more surprising than that which Remo has described to us? And are his injuries not consistent with a struggle with just such a man as Remo claims Roote to be?"
"Perhaps," Chiun said, unhappy to be swept along in Smith's speculative current.
For his part, Remo seemed bolstered by the leap of faith the CURE director had taken on his behalf. "I'm surprised you're the one in my corner, Smitty," he said.
"Your story is incredible," Smith admitted. "But there is much that is strange going on here. This entire base appears to be focusing its energy and resources on a single individual. That would make him special in the extreme. In a bizarre way, what you have said helps to explain a lot." He got to his feet. "I must meet with Chesterfield," he said determinedly.
Remo stood, as well. Chiun was quick to rise to his side.
"While you do that, I'm going to look for Roote," Remo announced.
"That is ill-advised," the Master of Sinanju insisted.
"You said Remo was well enough to complete his assignment," Smith challenged.
"Yeah, Little Father," Remo agreed. "I'm healthy as a horse. Don't worry. I'll be fine."
"Excellent," Smith said. "Now that you know Roote's abilities, you will not be taken by surprise. You two will have a better chance than anyone of stopping him. While you are gone, I will attempt to get to the bottom of this."
Without another word, Smith stepped from the room.
Once the CURE director was gone, Remo glanced at the Master of Sinanju. Chiun was staring intently at him, seeming to scrutinize his every facial feature.
"What's wrong?" Remo asked with a sigh.
The old man's voice was perfectly level. "I was attempting to determine who was the greater madman. You or Smith."
"Oh," Remo said dully. "Care to pick a winner?"
Chiun stroked his thread of a beard pensively. His intelligent hazel eyes were clouded in thought. "The jury has not yet rendered a verdict," he intoned.
THE ROUGH ATV PATH they had taken through the desert spilled out onto a worn access mad that ran parallel to the chain-link fence marking the southern perimeter of Fort Joy.
Signs warning intruders away had caused Arthur Ford concern for the past two miles. Although he had followed this route as a ufologist several times in the past without being bothered by the Army, he had never done so in the company of an extraterrestrial. He hoped the military hadn't put any special sensing equipment in place that would alert them to Roote's presence.
More and more, Ford was thinking that the creature he was with might not be a benign alien. He had hoped for the kind of life-affirming fun in his encounter with a creature from another planet as was the norm in movies and television. But even Star Trek had its share of villains. Maybe Roote was like a Romulan or Cardassian. Or even like the Klingons used to be, and sometimes still were.
These thoughts distracted him as they sped along the lonely desert road.
"The rear gate's comin' up soon," Roote drawled. "Bring me over to the fence."