Chiun frowned. "I do not know. Perhaps because you are white, this is normal."
Remo shook his head and felt for the stepladder top rung with his feet. "Blind people see darkness. Everybody knows that."
Chiun said nothing in response. His eyes were clouded and troubled.
Remo descended with careful movements. Chiun followed. They worked their way back through the underground kitchen to the camouflage trapdoor and emerged into the hot Arizona air once more.
"Follow me," said Chiun.
Remo did. He said nothing. His face was loose with a kind of dull shock. Several times he licked his lips as if he wanted to say something, but instead compressed them. The color of his face was very, very pale. His breathing was out of rhythm.
Chiun let these things pass. There was no danger here, so it was not important. No danger. No future, either. Not for Remo. Not for the House.
They came upon Amos Bulla and Tom Pulse near the collapsed BioBubble.
"Something happened inside the BioBubble," Pulse said when he saw them.
"It is not important," Chiun said thinly.
"The whole thing shone white for a moment. It was like a big light bulb. Or a flying saucer about to take off."
"Yeah," said Amos Bulla. "I saw it with my own eyes."
Chiun's voice climbed to the sky. "What! You saw?"
"Yeah."
"You were blind."
"My eyes cleared up."
Turning, Chiun cried, "Remo, did you hear that?"
"Of course. I'm not deaf. Just blind."
"And you are only blind for now. For the affliction is not permanent."
"Whew!" said Remo in relief.
"He got you, too?" Bulla asked.
"Yeah, but we got him," said Remo, sitting down to wait for his sight to clear.
Bulla and Pulse gathered around the Master of Sinanju.
"Is that what I think it is?" Bulla asked, indicating the silver helmet in Chiun's long-nailed grasp.
"Yes. It is his head."
"How'd it come off?"
"It was loose. A mere tap unbalanced it."
"Martians must be made of flimsy stuff," Bulla said, avoiding the sight of the head in the helmet.
"I don't believe in men from Mars," said Remo, not wanting to be left out of the conversation even if he couldn't see what was under discussion.
"It has a yellow visage and horrible, catlike eyes," said Chiun.
"Yeah?"
"Truly."
"Hey!" said Remo suddenly, "I think I'm starting to see again." He stood up. Blinking his eyelids, he waved his fingers before his face. After a while, his features brightened and the pinpoint pupils slowly relaxed to normal size.
"I can see again. I can see again!"
"Clearly?" asked Chiun, concealing his joy with a stern tone.
"No, just my fingers. They're a blur. But it's coming back."
"Try closing your eyes. That'll help some," said Bulla.
Remo did.
"When the whiteness becomes red, you'll know you're okay," Bulla offered.
"It's starting to happen," said Remo.
"Open your eyes, Remo," Chiun instructed.
Remo obliged. The whites of his eyes had already lost much of their thready redness. His Sinanju-enhanced system accelerated the healing process.
He found himself looking at the Martian's dead face. "That's the Martian?" he blurted.
"Yes. Is his countenance not terrible to behold?" said Chiun.
Frowning, Remo took the head in both hands. "This Martian looks suspiciously Chinese."
"I have always wondered about the Chinese. They seem unsuited for this planet," Chiun sniffed.
"This guy is Chinese," Remo exploded.
"There's something written inside this helmet," Pulse said.
"What's it say?" asked Remo, striding up.