"It is not my home any longer," Chiun interjected. "I abide here only through the kindness of the Reigning Master."
Remo cupped the mouthpiece. "Knock that off, will you?" To Smith he said, "Mayana. They've got some newfangled garbage disposal or something, right?"
"If they are to be believed, it is much more than that," Smith replied. "It is an amazing technology. According to Mayanan government fact sheets, it was developed by one Mike Sears, who until 1991 was a developmental scientist with the aerospace industry in California."
"So this guy sold American technology to another country and you want me to zap him."
"No," Smith replied. "Actually the device is a distraction in what might be a larger problem. In fact, it might be the greatest contribution to modern civilization since the start of the Industrial Age."
"The Industrial Age is overrated. The Han Dynasty in China, now that was a good age. Profitable for the House. We hooked them up for trade with the Roman Empire, you know."
Across the room, Chiun gave a faint smile of approval.
"Be that as it may," Smith said, steering them back to the topic at hand. "Everything is composed of atoms. Atomic mass gives density to all matter. The Mayana device allegedly breaks the bond at the atomic level. Substantive objects are broken up into their most elemental forms. They are literally disintegrated."
"Okay, I'm no good with this science mumbo jumbo. Are you saying it turns something into nothing?"
"Not exactly," Smith said. "More accurately, it transforms something you can see into something too minute to see. Allegedly," he added.
"There's that skepticism again," Remo said. "It sounds like you don't believe them."
"I have my reasons to doubt their claims," Smith said. "Dr. Sears has had an unremarkable career. It is unlikely in the extreme that he could have developed the device on his own, as they claim. Mayana's own scientific community is unspectacular at best. He did not receive help there. It is almost a certainty that aid in development came from outside the country. That is, assuming it works at all."
"I saw it on TV, Smitty. It looked real to me."
"Much can be rigged these days. I am having Mark delve more deeply into the matter. If there is something amiss here, I have confidence he will find it."
Remo grunted acceptance.
When Mark Howard first came aboard CURE, Remo was skeptical of the young man's worth to the organization. The assistant CURE director had drained little of that doubt away as time wore on. But the bulk of Remo's disapproval had gone out the window four months before when Mark Howard had proved brave and selfless in a crisis, aiding Remo during battle with his greatest adversary. Remo hated to admit it, but the kid had something.
"So you don't want me to knock off the guy who built it," he said. "It sounds like you don't want me to pull the plug. What is it you want me to do?"
"That is the thing. This so-called Vaporizer of theirs has complicated an existing problem. You have heard of the Globe Summit later this week?"
"Sure," Remo said. "That's when the world gets together in the nicest slum of some stink-ass rathole of a country and berates the United States for drilling holes in the ozone, torching the polar ice caps and leaving the rest of the environmental toilet seat up so the rest of the planet falls in when it has to take a whiz in the middle of the night."
"Yes," Smith said slowly, not disagreeing. "The President has confirmed that he will be attending."
"Brilliant," Remo said. "No fun flinging mud at America if you can't get some in the top dog's eye. Doesn't he know the bad guys are trying to kill us more than usual lately?"
"Which is one of my concerns," Smith said.
"There is a troubling report that two of the garbage scows waiting to be brought into Briton Bay may have been sunk by torpedo."
"Why would someone want to do that?"
"I don't know for certain. To foment chaos and fear, perhaps." Smith sighed. "Not that there is not already a large enough problem to worry about. Heaven only knows what is being shipped in on those scows."
"Smitty, I am not going down there to frisk garbage heaps for Shining Path whack jobs."
"Neither am I," Chiun chimed in. "I spent enough years pawing through white garbage. I am not starting over again."
"I thought you were retired," Remo said.
"My work status is in flux," Chiun sniffed. Smith seemed cheered by the old man's words.
"Obviously Master Chiun is welcome to join you. In fact, the last contract-"
"It would be my joy to accompany Remo, Emperor Smith!" Chiun interrupted hastily. "Though but a humble citizen of Sinanju now, if by some modest contribution to his great work I might bring further glory to your crown, I would consider myself honored."
Remo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's all this about?" he asked Chiun in Korean.
"How should I know?" Chiun sniffed in the same language. "When you and Smith talk, it is all garbage to me." He focused a little too much innocent attention on the TV.
"That thing's more interesting when it's actually turned on," Remo said in English, nodding to the black screen. To Smith he said, "I don't suppose you'd care to fill me in on what his game is, Smitty?"
"Er," Smith said hesitantly.
"Remo, do not press your Emperor," Chiun insisted. "Have I taught you nothing?"
"As usual, Remo's in the dark," Remo grumbled. "Now I've got something else to worry about while I'm doing the Secret Service's job."
"Then you will go," Smith said. "Do I need to make arrangements for you to leave North Korea?"
"Nah. Kim's got us covered. He'll be relieved to get us out of here."
"Good. Because of the Globe Summit, Mayana is limiting the movement within the country of those not with foreign delegations. To make things easier, I have placed you on the American delegation. As a cover, you and Chiun will be Interior Department scientists who study waste disposal. I will have Mark overnight credentials to New Briton. They will be waiting at the airport when you arrive."
"What do you mean, study waste disposal?" Remo asked.
"There are scientists who have made a career of studying human trash," Smith explained.
"I take it they do more than snap on Jerry Springer?" Remo said dryly.
"Much of the work is done in garbage dumps," the CURE director said. "Decades' worth of trash can be drilled through and drawn up, presenting snapshots in time, like rock strata. Scientists are able to study decay rates, soil contamination and a host of other refuse-related topics."
"You've gotta be pulling my lariat," Remo said. "Are my tax dollars paying for that?"
"You do not pay taxes."
"Glad I don't. I'd feel a real urge to toss something more than tea into Boston Harbor if my hard-earned money was going to study snotty Kleenex. I'd probably start with my congressman."
"Be that as it may," Smith said blandly, "you will be Dr. Henell. Chiun will be your assistant." Across the room, Chiun's eyes opened wide. "I will not be Remo's assistant," the old Korean snapped.
Remo was cringing even before Smith had finished. "Chiun won't play second fiddle to me," he told Smith.