"Could be," Remo said. "Or it could be he senses he's being targeted by a known Japanese basher."
"Is it bashing to point out that all Japanese are liars and thieves?"
"Yes," Remo said. "Especially when there's actual bashing involved, which there most times is. And while we're at it, wasn't the guy who founded Sinanju Japanese?"
Chiun tore his eyes from Hiro Taki's back. "Why do I even talk to you?"
Quickening his pace, he shuffled ahead of his pupil.
A hurricane fence surrounded the area. Beyond was the exterior wall of the Vaporizer.
Special reusable boots were issued to the group from a large bin inside the fence.
"These will keep you from losing your footing inside," Mike Sears explained, forcing a smile as the men slipped the boots over their shoes. "I doubt any of you want to fall in."
Wearing the protective boots, the group stepped through the gap in the outer wall and out onto the deck of the Vaporizer. The black pit yawned before them.
"You'll notice that the walls around us are of the same material as the Vaporizer itself," Sears said. "This upper level will eventually be part of the unit, almost doubling capacity. For tests until now we have dumped single loads into the device. That's good for demonstration and experimentation, but isn't cost-effective. When we settle into daily use, the main pit and upper level will be filled to capacity before the unit is activated. Hundreds of tons of waste will be removed in the wink of an eye."
Some members of the group were touching the walls. Their faces grew surprised. Remo and Chiun tried it, as well.
There was barely any sense of anything at all. The strange coating seemed to dissipate Remo's touch across the surface. It was almost like touching air.
"It's a kind of rubberized tile," Sears explained. "We use some of the same principles used by defense departments, NASA, the computer industry. The walls were tricky. We had to design them so that the process itself didn't swallow up the unit. If we got it wrong, when we switched it on, it would theoretically destroy itself along with most of the hill we're standing on."
Some of the braver men edged toward the fence that surrounded the pit. The capped nozzles in the black walls glinted in the sunlight.
Workmen were in the Vaporizer pit. An Asian scientist was just climbing out. His face glistened sweat. Other men drew up the scaffolding he had been working from.
"Dr. Yakamoto was just making some minor adjustments," Mike Sears explained. "I think he's all set now."
Yakamoto nodded.
"Great," Sears said. "Maybe you'd like to see a demonstration before we get into Q and A. Please come this way."
Sears and Jiminez began to herd the crowd back to the door. Dr. Hiro Taki lagged at the back of the group, as did Dr. Yakamoto. The men didn't seem to know each other. In fact, they seemed to make a point of not knowing each other. It was a subtle nuance that would have gone unnoticed by anyone other than Remo and Chiun.
Remo didn't know how he knew the men were acquainted. It was something instinctive. His suspicions were confirmed when the men just for a moment-locked eyes. Dr. Taki offered a single nod. Yakamoto's face showed a flash of horror before turning away.
"See?" Chiun said. "Do you see why my father always said never trust a son of Nippon?"
"Was he trying out for the role of Korean Archie Bunker?" Remo said dryly.
Unseen by the Mayanans, Remo had kicked off one shoe to test the surface underfoot. It was as frictionless as the walls. Without their special boots, even he and Chiun might have fallen. He slipped his loafer with its boot back on.
When he glanced up he saw that Chiun had padded farther ahead. The old man had caught up to Toshimi Yakamoto. Leaning in, he whispered something to the Japanese scientist.
Yakamoto responded with shock. The color drained from his sweating face. He hustled away from the wizened Korean, forcing his way through the group of visitors and out the gate.
"Do I want to know?" Remo asked once he caught up to his teacher.
"It was nothing that you do not already know," Chiun replied. "I told him that the Japanese as a people cannot be trusted and that I know he is up to no good. And look, see how he runs like a frightened rabbit when confronted by the truth. Pitiful. The one thing these Japanese had was pigheaded bravery, and Western subversion has robbed them even of that. I blame the French."
Leaving his pupil on the Vaporizer deck, he flounced out of the gate to remove the special boots from his sandals.
Remo tipped his head, considering. "Now, there's some racism I can finally support," he said, nodding. He followed the others out the gate.
Chapter 10
Toshimi Yakamoto ran.
Fear slowed his legs. His lungs burned, his brain sang a symphony of panic.
The old man knew. Somehow he knew.
He hadn't been specific. But those penetrating hazel eyes said all that was unspoken. He knew the truth.
The Korean had spoken Japanese. It was unlikely that anyone would have understood had they even heard, but the fact was, Yakamoto had been found out.
It was no wonder.
Toshimi Yakamoto had no business being here. He was a scientist, not a spy. But he was a scientist who had been there at the start. The real start, not this bastardized Mayanan version of it. He understood the nuts and bolts of what needed to be done and so-despite his protestations-had been drafted kicking and screaming into this project.
But now it was done. He had been found out. Mind swirling, he ran out of the Vaporizer compound and through the hurricane fence.
He passed colleagues whom he had worked with for nearly a year, as well as other workmen from the project. He ignored all their smiles and hellos, shoving through them.
Another tour bus was coming up the road from New Briton. The driver had to lay on the horn as Yakamoto darted out in front of it. The bumper nearly nicked him. He felt the exhaust breeze as he made it to the other side of the road.
Passengers watched the little man in the white lab coat running like a maniac from the Vaporizer site. The bus continued up toward the cluster of buildings as Yakamoto ran down into the lower parking lot.
He found his Toyota, fumbling his keys from his pocket. He dropped them to the gravel drive, knocked them behind a tire and scraped his palm clawing them back out. Keys rattling, he unlocked his car and fell inside.
He hunkered down in the back seat. His injured hand found his cell phone in his coat pocket. With shaking hands he pressed out the special number.
The phone was answered on the first half ring. "What is it?" the deep voice demanded in Japanese. A demon's voice, rumbling up from some low circle of Hell.
"I have been discovered!" Yakamoto blurted. As he spoke, he glanced in fright around the parking area. There was no one else there. He expected them to come any moment. He sank farther in on himself, trying to melt into the seat.
"Explain," demanded the man on the phone.
In a voice bordering on hysterical, Yakamoto whimpered out the details of his brief confrontation with the visiting Korean scientist.
"What exactly did he say?" the man on the phone demanded once Toshimi Yakamoto was finished. "He said I was untrustworthy and that I was up to no good," Yakamoto pleaded.
There was a pause. "And?" the voice asked. Yakamoto felt his breathing coming under control. His head was clearing. Somehow actually repeating the words of his accuser out loud made them sound not quite so damning.