"Overworked, at least."
"It is just a precaution," Smith said defensively.
Chiun gave Smith a frozen smile. To Remo he whispered, "He is mad to think that a Master of Sinanju could be captured in the first place, never mind being forced to reveal his secrets."
Remo nodded. "Better humor him, though." He retrieved his communicator from Smith's desk.
"I'll carry this," Remo said, "but if you expect Chiun or me to take one of these stupid pills, you haven't been paying attention for the last twenty years. We're not into suicide."
"It was the President's idea, actually," Smith said. He hadn't looked at the terminal in several minutes and the mesmerized look in his eyes had started to fade. Remo decided to keep Smith talking.
"How's it coming with the search?" he asked.
Smith sighed. "I only wish we had had this system installed long ago. We might have had the enemy nation identified by now. I've taken Chiun's suggestion and am performing identification tasks on all heads of state who might wish to harm this President or America."
"I'll bet that's a long list."
"Too long. But I've narrowed it down to the two which possess the technological capability to deploy a launcher such as this-the Soviet Union and China. Oddly, neither is betraying any signs of unusual military activity, either on home ground or in any African client state. NORAD picked up that second KKV over Africa. But I am disinclined to accept Africa as the point of origin. The objects were traveling too fast for reliable radar signature detection. It's puzzling."
"So we just sit on our beepers until you come up with a lead, is that it?"
"I'm afraid so," Smith said.
"Tell you what, Smitty. Why don't we all go down to the cafeteria? You look like you could use a good hot meal."
"Now that I think of it, I am famished. Odd that I hadn't noticed it before this." Smith started to rise from his chair. A buzzer sounded.
"That's the President," Smith said. "I'd better see what he wants."
To Remo's surprise, Smith reached for a modern phone system instead of the dialless red telephone. Remo noticed that the dedicated line wasn't anywhere in sight.
"Hello?" Smith asked. "Hello? Hello? Something's wrong," he said. "I can't hear the President."
"Probably not a T-and-A phone," Chiun whispered, repeating something he had heard on TV.
"That's AT orrected. "T and A is something completely different."
"I don't understand," Smith muttered. "This is the most modern telephonic communications system available. It couldn't malfunction."
"That is because you hit line one instead of the White House line," the ES Quantum put in. "Also, you neglected to engage the scrambler before speaking, thereby triggering the voice-damper override circuit."
"Yes, of course. You are correct. Thank you."
Thank you? Remo thought. It's a computer. Why is he thanking it?
"Shall I get the President for you, Dr. Smith?" the ES Quantum asked.
"Yes. Would you?"
"Will it send out for fast food too?" Remo asked skeptically.
"Yes," the computer replied as the push buttons on Smith's phone depressed in sequence without anyone touching them.
The phone rang and Smith snatched it up.
"Yes, Mr. President. Sorry about the cutoff. It's the new phone. I'm still getting used to it."
There was a pause during which Smith's face turned white.
"What! Heading where? Impact when?" Another pause.
"I'll send them. But of course they'll get there far too late.... Yes, as soon as I hear."
"What is it?" Remo asked when Smith hung up.
"NORAD has picked up another incoming KKV. It's headed for New York City."
"Oh, no," Remo groaned.
Chiun dismissed the idea with a wave.
"Why are you both so concerned?" he demanded. "It will miss anything of consequence, just as the others have."
"Not if it hits Manhattan. Unless it lands in Central Park. Otherwise, no matter where it comes down, there will be massive destruction. Casualties. I'll get a helicopter here instantly."
"A Marine helicopter is on its way, Dr. Smith," the ES Quantum reported.
"Oh?"
"I anticipated your request."
"Hey, Smitty, why don't you come with us?" Remo said suddenly.
"You know I cannot. We must never be seen in public together."
"Well, while we're waiting, why don't we wait in the cafeteria?" Remo suggested, looking at the terminal, on which a global display showed. A blinking light floated across the longitude and latitude lines over the Atlantic. The KKV.
"I have displayed a tracking grid for you, Dr. Smith."
"Yes, of course. Thank you." Smith's undivided attention focused on the screen.
"We'll get back to you, Smitty," Remo sighed.
Dr. Harold W. Smith did not reply. He stared at the screen like a B-movie zombie.
Out by the Folcroft docks, Remo said, "I'm worried about Smith."