Chiun, Master of Sinanju, lay on a reed mat on the floor of the submarine cabin. They had been given the largest officers' stateroom, which meant that, with the folding bunk up, it was slightly more spacious than a pantry. Two fluffy pillows cradled Chiun's aged head. His hazel eyes were dreamy, half-closed.
"I will be comfortable when this voyage is at last over."
"Me too," said Remo, kneeling beside Chiun. The room pitched ever so slightly. Incense curled from brass bowls Remo had placed in every corner of the cabin to smother the stale metallic taste of the recirculated air that was inescapable on even the most modern nuclear submarine. Remo had spent half the afternoon covering the false wood paneling of the walls with tapestries from the fourteen steamer trunks that contained Chiun's personal possessions.
"The captain said we should be arriving before evening," Remo said.
"How would he know? There is no evening in this filthy vessel."
"Hush," said Remo, trying to soothe Chiun's mood. "We were lucky that this sub was ready to go."
"Did you check the gold, as I asked?"
"Twice in the last hour. It is safe."
"It is well. This may be the last gold the village of Sinanju will receive from the mad Emperor Smith."
"Don't say that, Chiun."
"Still," Clriun continued, his eyes still half-closed, "I am at peace, for we are going home. To Sinanju."
"You are going home, Little Father. Sinanju is your home, not mine. Smith expects me to return to America."
"How can you return to that land? And leave your wife? Your children? Your village?"
Remo forgot himself and asked, "Wife? Children? What are you babbling about?"
"Why, the wife you will take once we are in Sinanju. And the children she will bear you. It is your duty, Remo. When I am gone, you must carry on the traditions. And Sinanju must have an heir."
"I am honored, Little Father, but I don't know that I can do that."
"Do not be shy, Remo. If you cannot find a Sinanju maiden who will accept your whiteness, I will find one for you. I promise."
"Oh no," said Remo. "Not more matchmaking. Remember what happened last time you tried to fix me up with a Korean girl? I'm not going through that again."
"I am dying, without a true heir, bereft of grandchildren, and you are burdening me with your childish concerns."
"I am sorry you do not have grandchildren, Little Father. I cannot help that."
"Perhaps if you hurry, I will live long enough to see your bride fat with child. I could go peacefully into the Void then. That would be enough. It is not the same as bouncing a grandchild on my knee, but I have been cursed by misfortune all my life."
"You've made more money from America's contract than all of the Masters in Sinanju history combined."
"I have not gotten respect. I have not worked for a true emperor, but for a doctor, and a quack at that. In Egypt, the court physician always walked a full two paces behind the royal assassin. Now we are reduced to working for bloodletters."
"The village can live comfortably for centuries on the stuff in your treasure house."
"How many times have I instructed you that Masters of Sinanju do not touch capital?" Chiun demanded. "I am the first Master to change his name in shame. Have I told you that story, Remo?"
Remo started to say yes, but Chiun was already into the tale.
"I was not always known as Chiun. I was born Nuihc, son of Nuihc, grandson of Yui. My line was a proud line, for I was the bearer of the great tradition of Sinanju. But my house fell on hard times. First there were the terrible European wars that blanketed the world, when there was no proper work for the assassin. Just for foot soldiers. My prime years were spent in idleness and inglorious tasks.
"I married unwisely. For my wife, who was sharp of tongue and avaricious of nature, bore me no heirs. This was a tragedy, but not without salvation. At her insistence, I agreed to train as the next Master of Sinanju a nephew, also named, after me, Nuihc. I trained him in the sun source. He was a good pupil. He learned slowly, but he learned thoroughly. Unlike some."
Remo didn't know if that last was a dig or a lefthanded compliment. He let it pass.
"When the day came that I stepped down as Master of Sinanju, Nuihc went off on his first task. The days passed in silence, they turned to weeks, and months. And when years passed, I heard how this Nuihc, this fat-faced deceiver, was practicing Sinanju willy-nilly all over the world. Not a dram of tribute came back to the village of Sinanju. It looked as if hard times were back, and soon we would be sending the babies home to the sea."
Remo nodded. Sending the babies home to the sea meant drowning them. The Village of Sinanju was poor, the soil unplantable, the waters of the bay too frigid to yield food fish. In olden times, when there wasn't enough food for everyone, the babies were drowned in the cold bay in the hope that they would be reborn in a better time. First the girls, then, as a last resort, the boys. In Sinanju, they called it "sending the babies home to the sea" to ease the pain of the terrible necessity.
"And so," Chiun continued, "at an age when Masters before me were happily retired from world travel and raising many grandchildren, I again took up the responsibility of my ancestors. In my shame, I reversed the letters of my name, Nuihc, so that none would think I was related to the base traitor, also called Nuihc. And I became Chiun. So I was known when we first met, Remo."
Remo remembered. It was in Folcroft's gymnasium. It seemed like a long time ago. Chiun was the trainer MacCleary and Smith had picked to transform Remo into CURE's killer arm. At first, Chiun merely taught Remo karate, a little Ninjutsu, and some other light skills. But after a few weeks, Chiun suddenly told Remo to forget everything he had learned up till then.
"Child's games," Chiun had whispered. "Tricks stolen from my ancestors by thieves. They are the rays of the sun source. Sinanju is the source. I will now teach you Sinanju."
And so it had begun.
"I remember when MacCleary first came to my village," Chiun continued in a faraway voice. "I had again retired, this time for lack of employment. MacCleary asked for something no one had asked for in many centuries. He asked, not for the Master of Sinanju's service, but for his help training another in the sun source. In more plentiful times, I would have slain him where he stood just for suggesting such a thing. But those were not plentiful times. And so I agreed, shamed as I was."
"You weren't sorry long, Little Father." Remo smiled. "I took to Sinanju better than anyone before."
"Silence," said Chiun, this time opening his eyes. "Who is telling this story? You or I? And if you were a good pupil-which I do not admit-it is only because you had perfection for a teacher."
"Excuse me," Remo said, but he was secretly glad. Chiun seemed to be coming out of his half-drowse. There was a little of the old fire in his eyes again, and it made Remo's heart rise.
"This MacCleary told me I would be training an orphan, one who had been found in a basket on a doorstep. I was pleased to hear this. The younger they are the better they absorb Sinanju."
Chiun turned his face to Remo.
"Imagine my disgust when I learned you were fully grown, except in mind."
"You got over it," Remo said gently.
"What I did not get over was your whiteness. I could have trained another Korean. Even a Chinese or a Filipino. Any properly colored person. But a white-worse, an American white of uncertain parentage. I nearly went home when I first cast eyes upon you. That was when I decided to teach you karate and other lesser arts stolen from Sinanju. Who would know the difference?"
"I did."
"No, you did not. But MacCleary knew. He knew of the legends. He understood. I should have trained him."
"You don't believe that, Little Father. Too much has gone on between us."
"Too much for me to understand your ingratitude. You think that Sinanju is just killing? Just fun, fun, fun? How typically white to eat of the fruit and neglect to return the seeds to soil so that others might enjoy the goodness of it in a later season. One grandson. It is all I ask. Is that too much? Even Nuihc would have given me that."
"We got him, though, didn't we?"