Destroyer - Master's Challenge Part 27

Chapter Thirty-Two.

Remo never left his cabin on the long submarine ride back to the United States. It was not until Chiun, still wearing the white robes of mourning, told him that it was time to leave that Remo even moved from his bunk.

It was dark outside when the two of them walked down the dock toward a waiting automobile.

"I'll walk," Remo said.

Chiun nodded, dismissing the car.

"You don't have to come with me."

"You have been alone long enough," the old man said. His white robes billowed in the summer breeze. Remo felt a pang of conscience.

"I'm sorry about H'si Tang," he said.

"My father lived a full life, and his spirit continues through the boy. I cannot ask for more."

The moon was bright, and the sky was ablaze with stars. Remo kept his head down. He never wanted to look at stars again.

After a long silence, Chiun spoke softly. "I have been giving thought to many things," he said. "To legends and 239.

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traditions and the continuity of life. It is good that the Master's Trial has been abolished."

Remo spat.

"Was it so distasteful to you? Did you learn nothing from it?"

"Oh, I learned, all right," Remo said bitterly. "I learned a whole lot. "

"Such as?"

"Such as I should have stuck to bas.h.i.+ng heads for Smitty. That's about all I'm good for."

"I see," Chiun said. "Then you found nothing of value in Ancion's sense of fairness? Or Kiree's humility? Or Emrys's courage?"

Remo looked over to him. "Yeah, I guess so. They were good. Better than me, I think, in a lot of ways."

"And the Dutchman?"

Remo hung his head. "He was a lot better."

"Was he?"

Remo knew what he meant. "Little Father, is there such a thing as ... well, opposite personalities in people? I mean, different parts of the same person, only in two different bodies?"

"The principle of yin and yang holds true for all things."

"But . . ."

"He is part of you," Chiun said.

Remo made a noise. "That stuff doesn't make any sense to me."

"If the force of the universe were so simple as to be understandable to all, life would be a very uninteresting experience."

"It's been too interesting for my taste. Anyway, he's gone now. I can live with him as long as he stays away from me."

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Chiun shrugged. "Perhaps he will, perhaps not. If he ever returns, it will be different because now you know who you are. And Jilda?"

"What about her?" He worked to keep his voice natural.

"Have you learned from her as well?"

"What's anybody learn from women? They come and they go. They're all the same in the dark."

"That is unworthy of you," Chiun snapped. "Jilda was the equal of any man in the Master's Trial."

"She was all right," Remo said dismissively. "She had weird eyes."

"She possessed great courage. Greater than you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Remo said angrily. "That she doesn't lead a guy on? Well, that's true. Jilda and her trusty ax, hacking her way to independence. She can write a book. The One-Minute Way to Dump on Men. The women's libbers would love her."

"She carries your child."

Remo stopped dead. "She told you that?"

"She did not have to. 1 have seen pregnant women before."

"Well, I've seen her, too," Remo said skeptically. "And at closer quarters than you."

"It was her manner, not her body. Ever since you arrived in Sinanju with her, I have observed her. It is true. I thought you would leave with her."

Remo stepped back, his face pale. "I would have. I wanted . . . I've got to get back to her." He turned back toward the dock.

"No, my son," Chiun said. "It is not what she wishes. When she came back to the cave to fetch Griffith, I confronted her with my knowledge. She made me promise never to tell you."

Remo was trembling. "Why?"

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"Because she understands more than you what you must do. What you will become."

"Well, I don't give a rat's a.s.s-" He tried to pull away from Chiun, but the old man gripped his arm tightly.

"Think, Remo! For once, will you think? Jilda is of an ancient people. They would never accept you as one of them, and so you would live apart, as outcasts. She would bend her ways to yours, because she is a woman, and that is their nature. But she would miss her home, and her people, and the old ways in which she was reared.In time, she would grow to resent you. Perhaps even hate you."

"Nope," Remo said. "Not that one. She wouldn't care. Besides, I'd make up for it. For G.o.d's sake, I'd do anything for her."

"It would not be enough. And you, my son, who are so eager to throw off your responsibilities to Sinanju. Without you, there will be no Master of Sinanju after me. Except ..."

Suddenly Remo understood. "The Dutchman," he said.

"And while the Dutchman wields his power, unchecked, your abilities will have diminished beyond help through lack of use. Why do you think I have you work for Emperor Smith? You are still growing in the ways of Sinanju. You must work for many more years before you may take my place as reigning Master. But after even one year of idleness-or what you think of now, in your dreams, as happiness-all 1 have taught you will be gone. You cannot rest, any more than the Dutchman."

Remo could still hear the distant waves lapping on the sh.o.r.e. "Did you talk Jilda into leaving me?"

"I said nothing. She is not stupid. Nor am I willing to force you to accept the destiny of s.h.i.+va as your own. But you must know the truth. That is why I have broken my 243.

promise to Jilda. If you go to her now, at least you will go with some understanding of the consequences." He released Remo's arm and walked away.

Remo stood very still. The sea called to him. Green and blue and gray, the colors of Jiida's eyes. Soon there would be a child, Remo's child, with the same strange, unworldiy gaze. A beautiful child, born of a love and pa.s.sion that would never be duplicated.

A child for the Dutchman to find and kill . . .

Remo covered his face with his hands, it would happen, he knew. The Dutchman would never be sane. In his search for death, he would surely come for Remo, because he understood now that their lives were permanently enmeshed. And Remo would have weakened. Even if he practiced the exercises of Sinanju every day, he would not have Chiun to guide him.

It would be so easy, with Jilda and the baby, to forget the Dutchman altogether. A peaceful life, quiet, comfortable. But one day the Dutchman would come_back for him. And Jilda. And the child. The beast inside him would see that Remo had no heirs.

He whispered, "Jilda, I can't do it."

But she had known that all along, he realized.

He turned, cold inside, from the sound of the waves and walked back to Chiun. The old man was waiting for "him.

"I wonder if I'll ever see the baby," he said.

"Do you think you could bring yourself to part with them then?"

Remo thought. "No. No, I guess not." They walked a long way. "Never, then."

"Jilda is a fine woman. She will raise a good son."

"Or daughter," Remo said. "I've always wanted a daughter.''

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"A son," Chiun said simply.

"What makes you so sure what it'll be?" A thought occurred to him that made him feel as if his heart had just shot into his throat. "Not another one of your crazy legends."

"Some traditions must be continued," Chiun said, walking ahead.

"Oh, no. No kid of mine is going to go through this. I won't let it happen."

Chiun turned and smiled. "Then you do believe, after all."

Remo scowled. "You old conniver," he said, strolling beside him.

Jilda. Oh, Jilda, how I'll miss you.

It was a clear night, a night of beginnings and endings. Somewhere on a starlit sea a child was growing. And here, a world away, Remo was alone. Again. It broke his heart.

"I wish ..."

"Yes?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Go ahead. Sometimes it helps to talk."

Remo swallowed. "I wish things didn't have to turn out the way they do."

Chiun put his arm around him. "I know, my son," he said gently. "I know."

Remo felt in his pocket. His carved jade stone from the Master's Trial was still there. He clutched it tightly. It was all he had to remind him.

His eyes filled. "Go on without me," he said. The old man walked ahead. When Remo was alone, he turned his face to the trunk of a tall tree and wept,,For himself, for Jilda, for the child he would never see. The Golden Lady would never be his until the day he died. All he had left of her was a cold jade stone.

245.

A breeze cooled his face, carrying with it the faraway scent of the sea. He looked up. Not all. He had something else, after all. For among the thousands of stars gleaming in the summer sky, one shone above all the others. GuIlikona, with its golden fire, burned only for him.