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"That's ridiculous. She's a princess."
"That much is true."
"It is? I mean, I know it is! What I want to know is how come you speak her
language when the best language experts in the world say her tongue is
unknown'?"
"Because truly it is a lost tongue. Or one believed to be lost. I know it only
because my ancestors passed it down from generation to generation so that we,
at least, would not forget."
"Forget what?"
"Moo."
"There he goes again," Remo sighed.
"Moo?" repeated Shane Billiken.
"Moo."
Shane Billiken looked at the little Eastern guy and at the white man named
Remo. Then he looked at Chiun again.
"I'm not following very much here."
"Correct. You are not following us. We are leaving now. "
"Well, nice of you to drop in," Shane Billiken said, relief suffusing his
puffy features. "Fernando will see you to the hole where the door was."
"Remo, gather up the coins. They belong to us now."
"No, they don't. They belong to Princess Sinanchu, and Princess Sinanchu
belongs to me."
"Truly?" said the Master of Sinanju as Remo scooped up the coins and stuffed
them into his pockets. "Have you told her that?"
"Yeah, actually."
"Then perhaps you should tell her again."
"Er, you can do it if you want."
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"Thank you, I will," said Chiun. He turned to the girl and spoke a few words.
She listened carefully.
Then Princess Sinanchu walked up to Shane Billiken. Her face was not pleasant.
She slapped his once, hard. He fell back into a Japanese taboret and knocked
over an ion fountain.
"Hey!" he said, coming to his feet angrily. "I could sue her for that!"
"Be grateful that she told me of your kindness, otherwise your transgressions
would not be overlooked on this day. "
And taking Princess Sinanchu by the elbow, the old man who called himself the
Master of Sinanju led her from the room.
On his way out, the one named Remo waved good-bye. "See you later, alligator,"
he said.
Chapter 7
Outside Shane Billiken's sprawling home, Remo put a question to Chiun.
"Now what?"
"We are going to Moo."
Remo shrugged. "Might as well get it over with." And raising his voice, Remo
called, "Moo. Moo. Moo. Or should I give one long moo, like this: mooooo!"
"Are you crazed?"
"You said we were going to moo. I just did. Didn't I do it right?"
"You can do nothing right," Chiun snapped. "And you are embarrassing me in
front of the Low Moo."
Remo glanced at the girl. She watched them with an openly quizzical expression
on her oval face.
"Sorry," he said, "but I don't think she understands English. "
"She does not. But she does understand Moo."
"She's one up on me, then. Not that I care."
"You should."
"Why? She's obviously not one of the bare-breasted women you keep promising
me."
"They are merely a five-day sail from here."
"Sail?"
"Yes. The Low Moo's boat is nearby. Come."
His face gathering in confusion, Remo followed as the Master of Sinanju, the
girl at his side, led him around to the back of the house. The girl cast
several curious glances over her shoulder at Remo. Remo smiled at her. She
smiled back. Maybe the night wouldn't be a total waste, Remo decided.
There was a boat set up on a wooden cradle on the dry beach sand. Chiun looked
it over carefully, tugging at the rattan lashings and examining the drooping
and tattered sail.
"It is too small," he said in a disappointed tone.
"Doesn't look very seaworthy," Remo agreed.
"Then we will build our vessel," Chiun announced, lifting a triumphant finger.
"Come, Remo, let us fall to work. "
"Build? Why not buy?"
"I will not be seen in an American boat. A thing of plastic and ugly metal.
No, we will build our own."
"I don't know squat about building ships."
"Then it is time you learned. Ship-building is an honored skill."
"Especially if your relative writes stories about Atlantis." Chiun's face
contracted.
"You are not taking this in the proper spirit," he fumed.
"Chiun, I have no idea what spirit I should be taking this in. I still don't
know what is freaking going on."
"We are going to Moo, as I have told you."
"Oh, moo this and moo that. And moo to you too. I'm sick of double-talk and
runarounds."
"Enough!" Chiun said, clapping his hands. "We will begin by felling some
trees."
Remo looked around. There was a palm tree about a mile inland. Everything else
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was sand and ocean.
"When you get enough of them together, let me know," Remo said, lowering
himself onto the sand. "I'll be catnapping." He folded his hands over his
chest and shut his eyes.
"Remo," Chiun hissed, "do you want the Low Moo to think I have a lazy slug for
a son?" He tugged on Remo's arm. "Up, up! She is a princess. A true
princess."
"And I'm a Master of Sinanju, not a boat builder. You want to play Popeye the
Sailor Man, fine. But you build your own boat."
Chiun stamped his foot angrily.
"Very well, lazy one," he said finally. "I will give in to your selfishness,
but only this once. We will buy a boat."
Remo leapt to his feet. "Now you're talking," he said, grinning. It was a rare
day when he won an argument with Chiun. The princess matched his smile with an
infectious one of her own, and Remo thought it was a rare day indeed.
The salesman at the Malibu Marina wanted to know if Remo was interested in a
racing sloop, a yacht, or a pleasure boat.
"Something fast," Remo said. "With dual motors."
"No motors," Chiun inserted quickly.
"No motors?" the salesman asked.
"A sail craft," Chiun added.
"You want something for pleasure trips, then."
"No," retorted Chiun. "We are going on a long voyage."
"We are?" said Remo. He was ignored.
"Then let me suggest something with auxiliary diesels."
"Sounds good to me," Remo said. "I want lots of chrome trim."
"I will have none of it," Chiun spat. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]