[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
sake, Smith decided it would be best to let this particular aspect of the
matter die quietly.
"Actually, Mark is doing quite well," Smith said. "I believe now that Purcell
had been attempting to manipulate him on some psychic level for months. I
blame myself for not seeing the signs of trouble sooner. And my briefing on
CURE matters could have been more thorough. Mark didn't know much about
Purcell beyond the fact that he was a CURE patient in the special ward. Had I
been more forthcoming with him about Purcell's mental abilities, perhaps he
would have recognized what was happening to him. As it was, Purcell was
forcing exhaustion and confusion on Mark. The more fatigued he became, the
more Purcell was able to force his will on him."
"He's been down there for years," Remo said. "I still don't know why he picked
Howard and not somebody else."
It was the Master of Sinanju who replied.
"Are you blind?" Chiun said with an impatient hiss. "The prince is possessed
of the Sight."
Remo frowned. "You saying Howard's like the Dutchman?"
"I am saying what I am saying," Chiun said.
Smith had grown visibly uncomfortable. "Mark does seem to have certain
abilities," he admitted guardedly. "I believe that's what made him more
susceptible to Purcell's mental advances." Before Remo could question further,
he forged ahead. "It seems as if Purcell left some vestiges of himself with
Mark. Mark is still trying to sift through it all. I'm hoping we can use the
knowledge to locate Purcell. Understandably, Sinanju appears to play a large
role in Purcell's thoughts. Mark said he seemed to be particularly distressed
over his relationship with Nuihc." At this there came an angry grunt across
the room. Remo pitched his voice low. "Smitty, that's a name we could do
without hearing around here on Christmas Day."
"Oh," Smith said, nodding. "I understand." He checked his watch. "I should be
going," he added, climbing tiredly to his feet. "My daughter and her husband
are in Connecticut for the week. My wife invited them to my house with their
children for Christmas dinner."
"Hold the phone," Remo said as he followed the CURE director to the door.
"You've got grandkids?"
"Three," Smith replied.
"Huhn," Remo grunted. "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. Half the time I
Page 116
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forget you even have a daughter. Lately, I've been thinking of Howard as your
only child."
Out in the hallway now, Smith frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You're a bright guy," Remo said. "You figure it out. "
He shut the door in the CURE director's puzzled face. Remo turned his
attention back into the room. The Master of Sinanju was still fussing to pack
his things. Most of his fourteen lacquered steamer trunks were already packed
and stacked against the wall. For Remo it was a sad image.
Back in Chiun's house in the village of Sinanju were piles of gold and silver
and jewels. Much of the tribute there had been collected by Chiun. But those
bits of metal and shiny glass didn't really belong to any one Master. They
were Sinanju's. No, a lifetime's worth of Chiun's worldly possessions were
here. In those fourteen trunks.
Remo wondered how many more times at this stage of his life his teacher could
pack and unpack them. "I've been trying to figure out what happened back at
MacGulry's house," Remo announced all at once. His voice was soft. "Why you
didn't get hypnotized there like you did at his office. I know why now. It's
because you didn't get hypnotized back in his office, did you?"
"I told you I did not," Chiun said annoyed. He didn't lift his head.
"So when you attacked me at his office you were-what, trying to teach me a
lesson about age discrimination? Peeved? You weren't gonna hurt me. You were
just venting."
Chiun said not a word.
Sadness suffused Remo. He understood.
"I'm sorry I was quicker, Little Father," he said. At this the old Korean
looked up, a dark scowl on his leathery face. Without a word he returned to
his luggage. His packing became more violent. Stolen ashtrays and stale
packets of restaurant saltines slammed into trunks.
Remo knew he had insulted his teacher. But he had told the truth. He was
sorry. Sorry that time had moved on for both of them. Sorry that they weren't
as young as they once were. Sorry that things couldn't stay the same forever.
Chiun had been going on about age because he finally knew he was getting old.
And he was right. Remo had been treating him differently lately because of
it.
For a moment, the younger Sinanju Master wasn't sure what to do to alleviate
his own guilt and the hurt he had caused his teacher. All at once it came to
him.
"No," Remo announced. "Wait a second. I'm not sorry. I'm better than you."
The room stilled. The Master of Sinanju's head rose on his craning neck. His
hazel eyes were cold slits.
"That's right," Remo said. "I'm better. I'm the Transitional Reigning Master
of the House of Sinanju and I'm better than you are. And why wouldn't I be? I
was trained by the best. Who else could have taken the pale piece of a pig's
ear that was me and turned it into something better than himself? No one but
you, Little Father, that's who. You did the impossible. The only reason I'm [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl szamanka888.keep.pl
sake, Smith decided it would be best to let this particular aspect of the
matter die quietly.
"Actually, Mark is doing quite well," Smith said. "I believe now that Purcell
had been attempting to manipulate him on some psychic level for months. I
blame myself for not seeing the signs of trouble sooner. And my briefing on
CURE matters could have been more thorough. Mark didn't know much about
Purcell beyond the fact that he was a CURE patient in the special ward. Had I
been more forthcoming with him about Purcell's mental abilities, perhaps he
would have recognized what was happening to him. As it was, Purcell was
forcing exhaustion and confusion on Mark. The more fatigued he became, the
more Purcell was able to force his will on him."
"He's been down there for years," Remo said. "I still don't know why he picked
Howard and not somebody else."
It was the Master of Sinanju who replied.
"Are you blind?" Chiun said with an impatient hiss. "The prince is possessed
of the Sight."
Remo frowned. "You saying Howard's like the Dutchman?"
"I am saying what I am saying," Chiun said.
Smith had grown visibly uncomfortable. "Mark does seem to have certain
abilities," he admitted guardedly. "I believe that's what made him more
susceptible to Purcell's mental advances." Before Remo could question further,
he forged ahead. "It seems as if Purcell left some vestiges of himself with
Mark. Mark is still trying to sift through it all. I'm hoping we can use the
knowledge to locate Purcell. Understandably, Sinanju appears to play a large
role in Purcell's thoughts. Mark said he seemed to be particularly distressed
over his relationship with Nuihc." At this there came an angry grunt across
the room. Remo pitched his voice low. "Smitty, that's a name we could do
without hearing around here on Christmas Day."
"Oh," Smith said, nodding. "I understand." He checked his watch. "I should be
going," he added, climbing tiredly to his feet. "My daughter and her husband
are in Connecticut for the week. My wife invited them to my house with their
children for Christmas dinner."
"Hold the phone," Remo said as he followed the CURE director to the door.
"You've got grandkids?"
"Three," Smith replied.
"Huhn," Remo grunted. "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. Half the time I
Page 116
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
forget you even have a daughter. Lately, I've been thinking of Howard as your
only child."
Out in the hallway now, Smith frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You're a bright guy," Remo said. "You figure it out. "
He shut the door in the CURE director's puzzled face. Remo turned his
attention back into the room. The Master of Sinanju was still fussing to pack
his things. Most of his fourteen lacquered steamer trunks were already packed
and stacked against the wall. For Remo it was a sad image.
Back in Chiun's house in the village of Sinanju were piles of gold and silver
and jewels. Much of the tribute there had been collected by Chiun. But those
bits of metal and shiny glass didn't really belong to any one Master. They
were Sinanju's. No, a lifetime's worth of Chiun's worldly possessions were
here. In those fourteen trunks.
Remo wondered how many more times at this stage of his life his teacher could
pack and unpack them. "I've been trying to figure out what happened back at
MacGulry's house," Remo announced all at once. His voice was soft. "Why you
didn't get hypnotized there like you did at his office. I know why now. It's
because you didn't get hypnotized back in his office, did you?"
"I told you I did not," Chiun said annoyed. He didn't lift his head.
"So when you attacked me at his office you were-what, trying to teach me a
lesson about age discrimination? Peeved? You weren't gonna hurt me. You were
just venting."
Chiun said not a word.
Sadness suffused Remo. He understood.
"I'm sorry I was quicker, Little Father," he said. At this the old Korean
looked up, a dark scowl on his leathery face. Without a word he returned to
his luggage. His packing became more violent. Stolen ashtrays and stale
packets of restaurant saltines slammed into trunks.
Remo knew he had insulted his teacher. But he had told the truth. He was
sorry. Sorry that time had moved on for both of them. Sorry that they weren't
as young as they once were. Sorry that things couldn't stay the same forever.
Chiun had been going on about age because he finally knew he was getting old.
And he was right. Remo had been treating him differently lately because of
it.
For a moment, the younger Sinanju Master wasn't sure what to do to alleviate
his own guilt and the hurt he had caused his teacher. All at once it came to
him.
"No," Remo announced. "Wait a second. I'm not sorry. I'm better than you."
The room stilled. The Master of Sinanju's head rose on his craning neck. His
hazel eyes were cold slits.
"That's right," Remo said. "I'm better. I'm the Transitional Reigning Master
of the House of Sinanju and I'm better than you are. And why wouldn't I be? I
was trained by the best. Who else could have taken the pale piece of a pig's
ear that was me and turned it into something better than himself? No one but
you, Little Father, that's who. You did the impossible. The only reason I'm [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]