[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

outer edges of the pendulum's scope of movement. Most of the pegs were down.
Remo joined the crowd at the glass barrier, followed by Chiun, and read a sign
that called it the Foucault pendulum.
"Says here the pendulum's changing swing proves the earth rotates," Remo
explained.
"It proves that the white mind is obsessed with toys, having been poisoned by
pagan feasts," sniffed Chiun. Turning to a guard standing nearby, he said, "We
seek the emperor. Direct us, guardian of the castle of Smith."
The guard had only to think a moment. "West wing near the escalator," he said,
pointing down a corridor.
Page 65
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Puzzled, Remo followed Chiun down the corridor.
They came to a huge marble statue of a seated man wearing a toga that had
fallen to his waist. He carried one hand high, and a sheathed sword was
clasped in the other.
"What emperor is this, Remo?" asked Chiun.
Remo looked up at the statue's face. He wore his hair long and curled, and not
shorn short, as would a Greek or Roman ruler of old, which he otherwise
greatly resembled.
"Search me. Ancient history isn't my strong suit."
"This is no emperor of old," spat Chiun. "Obviously it is one of the very
early rulers of this land."
"We have only Presidents here," Remo said distantly, searching the passing
faces for Smith's lemony visage.
"Did not a British king rule this land at one time?"
"I guess so," said Remo vaguely. "I only care about Presidents. Sometimes not
even them."
"I have always suspected that other emperors lurked in the shadows of this
nation's halls," said Chiun. "Now I am sure of it."
"Not a chance."
Chiun stepped back, the better to search the statue's cold stone face with his
birdlike eyes. It was strong, with a heavy nose and high forehead. Chiun
canted his head this way and that. Then his eyes fell to the broad base of the
throne on which the statue sat.
"Hah! Look, Remo, here is proof of what I have been saying for years."
Remo turned and saw the pointing finger of Chiun. He tracked it with his
eyes.
There at the base of the statue was a single name: Washington.
"It is now clear to me," cried Chiun. "The Emperor Washington founded this
land."
"He was President."
"Another sham concocted to deceive a gullible populace."
"Who would go to all the trouble of carving a twenty-ton statue of George
Washington and dress him like Caligula sitting in a steam bath?" Remo wondered
aloud.
A lemony voice behind them said, "His name was Horatio Greenough, and this
statue is a famous white elephant that was ejected from the Capitol Building
in 1908."
They turned to see Harold Smith standing there in his familiar gray suit that
he wore like a personal uniform.
"Pretend to be admiring the statue," Smith undertoned.
"I'm not that good an actor," muttered Remo.
Chiun bowed low. "Hail Smith, blood descendant of Washington the First."
Smith paled and said nothing. He carried a well-worn leather briefcase. "I saw
you exit the Smithsonian castle as my cab pulled up. Why did you come here?"
Remo pointed to the statue of Washington. "Chiun got his emperors mixed up."
"Were you followed?" asked Smith.
"Yes," said Chiun. "Remo followed me."
"I meant by strangers."
"No one could follow me."
"No," agreed Remo. "Chiun just told Pepsie Dobbins all about the
organization."
Smith's eyes grew large behind his rimless glasses. He wavered on his feet.
"I merely enlightened an ignorant woman," said Chiun.
"Don't sweat it, Smitty. Word is she was canned for reporting the President's
death prematurely."
Smith smoothed his hunter green Dartmouth tie, and the action seemed to
stabilize his wobbly sense of balance.
"I must speak with the President directly," he said, eyeing the thinning
evening crowd so intently that they automatically stared back.
"We can get you into the White House, if that's what you want," said Remo.
Page 66
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Yes," said Chiun. "No palace guard is equal to our stealth and cunning. If
you wish to enter quietly, Remo and I will arrange it. If it is your
preference that we storm the White Palace, this too is doable."
Remo looked at Chiun. "Doable?"
"It is word very popular in this province," Chiun said, bland voiced. "We must
blend in however we can."
Remo looked at Chiun's gold-trimmed white silk kimono and said, "The only
place you'll blend is at a Communion offering."
Chiun wrinkled his nose and said nothing.
"I have a rental car waiting nearby," said Smith, starting off.
OUTSIDE, Smith took the wheel, and Remo and Chiun at his tight-jawed [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]