“I've got a problem. I am facing a stiff court fight and it looks as though I am going to lose. There is a witness against me who has me all but convicted. I hear Poweressence can help people like that.”
“Poweressence helps everything.”
“But I want that,” said Remo.
“You can get that. But you've got to make it to the thirtieth level.”
“I've never heard of the thirtieth level,” said Daphne. “That must be ecstasy. Do you remember me? We met at the Miami temple. You gave me an autographed picture. I was at Level Three at the time. I couldn't afford more.”
“And how much does it take to make it to the thirtieth level?” Remo asked, undistracted.
“Well, the thirtieth is a major spiritual threshold, so there is a major contribution required.”
“So it's a strict cash deal then.”
“No. You have got to embark on all the courses. You have got to believe. If you don't believe, it won't do you any good.”
“And what happens if I am convicted?”
“You get your money back.”
“And who gets this money?”
“You can leave it here or send it to the Dolomos. For me that doesn't matter.”
“What I want to know is how you make witnesses forget.”
“I don't do anything. The Dolomos don't do anything. The forces of the universe can do everything and will do everything.”
Remo handed back the paper. Television cameras were being brought into the room. Remo stepped out of the way. He did not want to be recorded. Chiun kept himself between Kathy and the cameras as he began the first two-hour ode to the essence of the purity of the flower petal which marked the traditional Tang opening stanzas.
“We have business, Little Father. Step back,” Remo said in Korean. Remo stepped way back. He didn't want to be on national film. Chiun reluctantly joined him, complaining of Remo ruining his chance to make America aware of true art and of the true artist that Chiun was.
“Why is it that when I offer something as beautiful as the Tang, Americans want to see sharks? You are just like Rome at the beginning of your calendar.”
“Glad to see you're admitting I'm American and not Korean.”
“Shh,” said Daphne. “She's going to speak. Isn't this wonderful?”
Kathy called the television reporters to the front and told the print media, newspapermen mostly, to take the rear seats.
“I am glad all of you could come during what must be a busy, busy day for all of you. But you all must know why the President of the United States died. Why he had to die. Not even the President of the United States can defy the forces of the universe. In pressing to convict two innocent bearers of beauty and light, our President criminally has brought death on himself. As a hope for all Americans, I can only express my deepest sympathies for all of us and beg the new president not to follow such a course of folly. Had the President listened to my advice in the White House before I was forcibly removed, he would be alive today.”
“But, Ms. Bowen,” said a television reporter in the front row, “the President of the United States isn't dead.”
“What about his plane crash?”
All the newsmen looked puzzled.
Kathy Bowen looked at her watch. “What day is this?”
“Wednesday,” she was told.
“Damn,” she said.
Twenty minutes later, when the plane crashed, the Federal Bureau of Investigation arrested Kathy Bowen on the charge of attempted murder, and their case was augmented by the testimony of another Powie who told a tale of seduction and intrigue that she never knew would end in death. All she had to do was hand the man an envelope and tell him not to open it until he was at work. She didn't know he flew the President's plane. All she knew was that she could get to Level Four of Poweressence if she did this one little thing for them.
And she had needed it for her acting career, wanting to become as famous as Kathy Bowen herself.
Chapter 9
“I didn't say Wednesday,” hissed Rubin Dolomo. “I said don't be surprised if the President's plane crashes Wednesday.”
“You said Wednesday,” said Kathy Bowen. “You told me Wednesday. You said Beatrice said Wednesday.” Kathy Bowen looked around. Her voice was hushed. A glass-and-wire screen separated her from Rubin Dolomo. “I heard you say Wednesday.”
“Even so, why did you call a press conference for Wednesday?”
Rubin glanced to his right. A guard was sitting supposedly too far away to hear. But Rubin did not trust distances. He did not trust guards of any kind. He shivered at the thought of his being in a place like this.
“Beatrice says we will get you out. We have things under way, big things that are going to turn this whole business around. We're not taking it anymore,” said Rubin proudly.
Kathy's face looked like a collapsed balloon. All the energy and verve that had made her smile look like a lit billboard had vanished.
“I can't hold onto my positive course anymore. I'm losing my power. You've got to clear me, you have got to do a clearing of my mind.”
“That's what Beatrice sent me for.”
“I owe everything to the enlightenment. Now I feel I have lost it. I'll lose everything.”
“You own your own temple franchise. You should know how to go through the mind clearances yourself.”
“This is too much. I look around and all I see are bars on one side of my cell and cement on the other. I have a single open bowl for a toilet and a sink. I wouldn't have a closet this small. You've got to help me.”
“All right, what's the feeling you have?”
“I feel I am in jail.”
“In what part of your body is that feeling?”
“It's all over me. I feel trapped. I feel I can't move around.”
“In what part of your body is it strongest?”
“Everywhere.”
“Good. Now how strongly do you feel this?”
“Totally.”
“Is there any part of you that doesn't feel it?”
“My ring. My ring doesn't feel it.”
“Any part of your body?”
“My ears. Yes. My ears. My ears don't feel trapped.”
“Concentrate on your ears. What is the feeling?”
“Freedom. Light. Power.”
“You see, you still have your freedom. It is only your negative mind that tells you you are trapped. Move your arms. Are they free?”
Kathy wiggled her arms. She smiled broadly. She nodded.
“Move your head. Is that free?”
Kathy shook her hair and was almost laughing.
