But for all his power, Smith trembled inwardly this day. It was not from the awesome responsibility that weighed on his coat-hanger-like shoulders. Smith was ordinarily fearless.
This morning, Dr. Smith dreaded the imminent appearance of the Master of Sinanju, with whom he was deep in contract negotiations. It was an annual ritual, and it wrung more from his constitution than would entering an Iron Man competition.
So when Smith heard the elevator outside his secondfloor Folcroft office hum as it ascended, he looked around his room for a place to hide.
Smith gripped the edges of his desk with whiteknuckled intensity as the door opened.
"Greetings, Emperor Smith," said Chiun gravely. His face was an austere network of wrinkles.
Smith rose stiffly. "Master Chiun," he said in his lemony New England voice. He sounded like a dishwashing liquid. "Remo. Good morning."
"What's good about it?" Remo growled, throwing himself onto a couch. Chiun bowed and Smith returned to his seat.
"I understand you have an assignment for Remo," Chiun said distantly.
Smith cleared his throat. "That is correct," he said. "It is good to keep him busy. For he could lapse into indolence at any time. As he was before I accepted the thankless responsibility of training him in the art of Sinanju."
"Er, yes. Well, the assignment I have in mind for him is rather unusual."
Chiun's hazel eyes narrowed. Smith recognized that narrowing. Chiun was looking for an opening.
"You have heard, perhaps, of Remo's most recent assignment," Chiun began.
"I understand it went well."
"I killed Santa Claus," Remo growled.
"That was your job," Smith told him.
"Yeah," Remo said vehemently, "and you have no idea how much I looked forward to it. I wanted to wring his neck!"
"Remo," Chiun said, shocked. "One does not dispose of an emperor's enemies the way one would harvest a chicken. Death is a gift. To be bestowed with grace."
"I put him down with a heart-stopping blow. And that's what it felt like, putting down a dog."
"The enemies of America are all dogs," Chiun sniffed. "And they deserve to die like dogs."
"I happen to like dogs," Remo said. "This was like drowning a puppy. It made me sick. New rule, Smitty: in the future, I don't work Christmas week. Or Easter. You'll be sending me after the Easter Bunny next."
"What has that vicious rodent done now?" Chiun asked seriously. He was ignored.
Smith cleared his throat. "The assignment I had in mind should not involve any killing."
"Too bad," Remo said sourly. "I still want to dismember him. Or somebody."
"Ignore my pupil, Emperor. These moods come upon him every year at this time."
"I had a rough childhood. So sue me."
Chiun drew himself up proudly. "Since Remo's last mission went so well, I see no reason that I accompany him on this new assignment," he said, watching for the effect this opening gambit would have on Harold Smith, the inscrutable.
Smith relaxed perceptibly. Chiun's brow wrinkled. "I am glad to hear that, Master Chiun," Smith told him. "This particular assignment is an awkward one. Your presence would be difficult to manage."
Chiun's papery lips compressed. What was this? Had Smith said such a thing merely to counter his negotiating position? How would he succeed in raising the year's tribute for his village if the Master of Sinanju's role in future assignments did not become a bargaining chip?
Chiun decided that Smith was bluffing.
"Your wisdom is insuperable," he said broadly. "For should Remo fail in his mission, should harm befall him, then I stand in readiness to complete his mission."
"Don't listen to him, Smitty," Remo warned. "He's trying to reel you in."
"Remo! I am negotiating for my village, which will be your village one day."
"You can have it."
"Such insolence!"
"Please, please," Smith pleaded. "One thing at a time. I thank you for your offer to stand in readiness, Master Chiun."
"Subject to proper compensation," Chiun added hastily.
And Smith knew there was no getting away from negotiation here and now.
"Disneyland is out of the question," Smith said quickly. "The owners say it is not for sale at any price."
"They always say that the first time," Chiun insisted.
"That was the third time."
"Those shylocks! They are trying to force you into making a wildly extravagant offer. Do not let them, Emperor. Allow me to negotiate on your behalf I am confident that they will come to terms."
"Say good-bye to Mickey Mouse," Remo said.
Chiun turned like a silk-covered top. "Hush!" he hissed.
"However," began Smith as he opened a desk drawer, "I did manage to obtain a lifetime pass."
Chiun's face widened in pleasure. He approached Smith. "For me?" he asked, impressed.
"As a token of good faith," Smith told him. "So that this year's negotiations begin on a trustworthy note."
"Done," said the Master of Sinanju. He snatched the pass from Smith's outstretched hand.
"Nice going, Smitty," Remo said. "You're learning after all these years."
Remo braced for a rebuke from Chiun, but instead he floated up and waved the pass under his nose.