Back came the response, which needed no translation. "Coatlicue."
"Why would Verapaz go to fight a monster?" said Remo because he didn't want to follow the conversation to its logical conclusion.
"Because he is believed to be Lord Kukulcan and Lord Kukulcan is the mortal enemy of Coatlicue."
From a cantina, a frightened voice called out.
"He is saying that the monster has conquered Oaxaca itself," Assumpta explained. "The army has fled before her."
More rapid words came.
"But the monster has remained stopped for several hours now. She is not leaving. Chiapas may be safe."
"How does he know this?" asked Chiun.
"He watches it in the television, as does all of Mexico."
Remo said, "Come on, Little Father. Let's check this out."
They entered the cantina.
It was just like the restaurant in the last town they had visited, down to the semicircle of men in white Texas hats huddled around a flickering TV set. Except this set was in color.
On the screen stood the Coatlicue monster, immobile, armored like a steely beetle, as all around Indians danced and feasted.
"What are they eating?" Remo asked, noticing all the blood.
"Men. They are eating men," said Chiun.
"How long has this been going on?" Remo asked no one in particular.
"Since last afternoon," Assumpta told him.
Remo drew Chiun aside and lowered his voice. "This is either the longest monster movie ever made or we've got a serious problem here, Little Father."
Chiun's eyes squeezed down to glittering slits.
"It is Gordons."
"Who?" asked Winston Smith.
"Stay out of this!" snapped Remo.
"Up yours. Who do you think you are, my father?"
Remo opened his mouth to shoot back a retort. A flicker of strangeness crossed his face. He shut it.
"If that's Gordons, how'd he get so big?" Remo wondered.
"I will ask," said Assumpta.
Before Remo could say Don't waste your time, she did and received a short reply from a TV watcher.
"I am told the Coatlicue monster has been eating people since it marched from the capital to Oaxaca. As she ate, she grew."
"Can Gordons do that?" Remo asked.
Chiun regarded the screen, stony of face. "He has. That is plain to see."
"There is a phone around here?" Remo asked.
Someone pointed to an old wooden booth like the one Clark Kent favored very early in his career. It said TELEPHONO in faded black letters.
Remo tried getting a connection to the States and was told the cost would be four thousand dollars.
"Mexican or American?" he asked.
"American. Dollars are American. Mexican dollars are pesos, senor."
"That's highway robbery!" he exploded.
And the operator hung up.
Wearily Remo got a new operator and, when told the price had gone up to five thousand dollars American, read off his Discover card account number without complaint.
Once he had the connection to the States, he dialed Harold Smith by sticking his finger in the 1 hole and spinning the old-fashioned rotary dial over and over, hoping it would work.
It did. Harold Smith's lemony voice came on the line.
"Smith, what are you hearing out of Mexico?"
"It is a catastrophe."
"More than you think. What do you hear about a monster running amok in Oaxaca?"
"Nothing."
"Well, it's all over Mexican TV down here. And it looks like Mr. Gordons."
"What!"
"He's thirty feet tall this time, Smith. You really screwed up, you know that?"
"Gordons was deactivated. You assured me of that."
"Yeah. But we wanted to crush him to powder just to make sure."