"Famous Kathy Bowen?" asked the manager.
"Yeah. Her," said Remo.
"She's the hostess on Amazing Humanity," said the manager.
"I don't know what that is either."
"It's people doing fantastic things. Fantastic. They eat frogs, run through fire, build homes out of bottle caps, run races after they've suffered horrible operations," said the manager.
"I don't watch it. Where can I reach Kathy Bowen?"
"At crusade headquarters in California."
"What does it take to join?" asked Remo.
"A commitment to truth, freedom of worship, and the American way, plus five thousand dollars."
"Why do I feel I could join the crusade for free?"
"You can, but the five thousand is a donation to help fight religious persecution in America."
"I like religious persecution," said Remo.
The manager sat beneath a picture of clear-eyed, forward-looking Rubin Dolomo. On his desk was a stack of mimeographed bulletins called "Truth Grams." The manager kept looking at Remo's wrists. He stared at the eyes, not into them. Remo could tell where the man's pupils focused because they always reflected the level they operated from.
"Well, religious persecution is fine. Whatever. Whatever the force of power gives to you. Thank you and good day," said the manager.
When the especially wealthy new student and his Oriental friend left with their counselor, Ms. Bloom, a low-budget convert to Poweressence, the manager phoned the Dolomo estate.
"Hey, Rubin, I think I saw him."
"Who? The negative one?"
"Well, you said there was this guy with thick wrists and dark eyes who was the force of negativity. I thought it was just hype, you know. Like course number fourteen, when you ran out of astral planes to clear in course thirteen and you had to come up with a 'Reversion Protection' course. I thought that was brilliant."
"It wasn't hype. People do revert to unhappiness."
"Sure, sure, Rubin, but I think I actually seen this guy."
"He's there?"
"Just left."
"Where's he heading?"
"Straight for you and our star performer, Ms. Kathy Bowen."
"Why did you do that?"
"He's been taking courses like there's no end to money. And he says he's got a problem with a jail thing. I thought you could help, you know. You told us to solicit those."
"But he's the negative counterforce of our positive power."
"Hey, Rubin. I'm a franchiser. I sell this stuff. Don't try to give it to me."
"It's true. How do you think we got so big, so fast? I uncovered the truth in the Alarkin planet chronicles."
"You got so big so fast because Beatrice knows how to make a buck. Look, Rubin, if you have problems with these people, why don't you take care of them in some sane way. And I don't mean some Powie nut with an alligator stuffing it in some pool somewhere."
"What do you mean?"
"There are professionals who do things right."
"You mean a professional hit man?"
"You can buy the best right here in Miami. This is the home of the cocaine trade. The best killers in the world are in Miami today. The best, Rubin."
"We don't have any contacts in Miami except you."
"What is your safety worth to you and Beatrice?"
"Thousands."
"You can do better than that, Rubin. You clear fifteen thousand a week from my franchise alone."
"Tens of thousands."
"Come on, Rubin."
"A million dollars. I can't go any higher, Beatrice will kill me."
"No problem. Now, no more of this Alarkin planet good-force stuff. We buy the best. The absolute best."
"They don't cost a million."
"I do. If you want me to get them. I'm here, Rubin. I know everyone."
"And you'll get the best."
"The forces of negativity will have more bullets in him than a firing-range target before he leaves Miami."
"I'll mail you the million."
"No. Wire it. I always like it in my hands before I do real business. We don't pay these people in reducing astral negativity, Rubin."
The hit was not complicated, the manager knew. The target would be coming to the airport, and once you knew where someone was coming, you really had a lock on the whole business. That is why of the million dollars, he only had to pay twenty-five thousand dollars to four pistoleros who promised they would empty two magazines apiece into the man and his elderly Oriental friend.