Pathway to Japanese Literature

1

Churchill emphasized to his special envoy as they departed.

“Listen well.”
“You must obtain the most formidable one possible.”
“It must be nothing less than the world’s finest!”

Turning aside, he muttered under his breath, “(From this moment forth, I shall adopt an uncompromising world’s-best policy for all matters – that should set things properly ablaze.)”

Roosevelt issued grandiose proclamations to **the** special envoys as they departed.

“Go ahead and buy that uncontrollable Double V No. 3 by attaching **the** Doctor to it. If **the** first method fails**, use **the** second; if **the** second fails**, use **the** third… By **the** time you reach **the** tenth method**, I have made sure it will succeed without fail.”

What **the** two were saying had also become quite different from before at this point.

Thus the special envoy and the special envoy came to meet abruptly at ○○ on the Chinese mainland, though at first neither recognized the other.
This was because Churchill’s special envoy staggered about disguised as a disheveled morphine addict, while Roosevelt’s envoys—a male-female pair—pulled their food stall through the streets hawking “How about some premium street fare?”

Churchill’s special envoy Lord Chier was an army major.
Roosevelt’s female special envoy Miss Rus was an air colonel who until recently had commanded transport squadrons in the South Pacific, while her male counterpart Belant—one of Reed Corporation’s young managers—was renowned for his sharp skills.

“Hey.”
“What dishes can you make?”

Lord Chier called out to Belant and Miss Rus’s food stall with a slurred tongue.

“We’ll make whatever dish you prefer.”
“Especially when it comes to smoked dishes—we’re the world’s best.”

Belant wasted no time launching into his pitch.

“World’s best?”
“Then make me that.”
“Hurry it up—will ya?”
“Whiskey with milk too.”
“Coffee—Java.”
“And sherry.”
“Nah—don’t sweat it—I got cash.”

Lord Chier grabbed several legal tender notes from his pocket and smoothed out their wrinkles.

“Right away!”
“Thank you very much.”
“Everything you requested is ready.”

“Huh. You’re saying everything’s ready, really?”

“It’s no lie.”
“Well now, please take your leisure in enjoying it.”

From the grubby food stall emerged such extraordinary delicacies that even Lord Chier blinked in astonishment.

“For smoked dishes, the best is kangaroo jerky. Number two would be Bixhou field mice jerky. Third—though I shouldn’t say it too loudly—jerky made from British officers’ ○○ that drifted ashore from the Prince of Wales… All lined up right here for your pleasure.”

“What in the...?”

Lord Chier grimaced.

“Sir—save your surprise for later! Why don’t you try them properly from the first? If they’re not delicious, you may smash the smoked meat shop’s signboard and we shan’t complain one bit.”

Miss Rus also interjected.

“No—I mean... I’ll have plenty with just numbers one and two.” He took another swig from his glass. “Mmmh... damn fine liquor.”

Lord Chier pretended to be drunk and covered up his surprise at the situation.

“Check the bill for me.”
“How much?”

Lord Chier meticulously settled the bill, even taking care to collect the exact small change in coins, then staggered off down the street.

“That went well, didn’t it? Now that person will go around promoting our signature smoked dishes for us, won’t they?”

With that, Miss Rus wore a perfectly composed expression.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s a cunning swindler you can’t let your guard down around.”

“Huh, a swindler?”

“That’s right. With deft sleight of hand, he swiped a stick of kangaroo crotch jerky and stashed it under his coat. He’s either a pickpocket or a damn conjurer!”

“My word—did that half-sick staggering man really pull off such sleight of hand...?”

“Ah, never mind.”
“Never mind that—business first.”
“We need to start promoting our world’s best smoked dishes immediately so Dr. Kin hears about it without delay.”
“Step right up!”
“Smoked dishes from the World’s Best Shop!”
“Variety? World’s best!”
“Flavor? World’s best!”
“And prices? World’s best!”
“Step right up!”
“Hurry over and give it a try!”

At the carefree calls of the blue-eyed couple, hungry crowds came rushing from every corner of this slum.
The space before the food stall instantly transformed into something resembling an exhibition hall of malnutrition patients.

The World's Best Smoked Cuisine Shop's business was booming spectacularly.

Yet on both Belant's and Miss Rus's faces lingered a tinge of dissatisfaction.

“This isn’t working.”

“I wonder what’s wrong with that person…”

That person...
The problem with that person was that the one they were expecting hadn't shown up.
That person was the world's greatest connoisseur of smoked meats.
And the world's foremost inventor of scientific weaponry.
That name was Dr. Kin.
This was the very figure whom both of them—no, Lord Chier too—had journeyed all this way to somehow get their hands on.
Dr. Kin was supposed to be living somewhere in these wretched alleys.

2

“Hmm, hmm, hmm.”

Dr. Kin offered nothing but vague responses, never articulating anything concrete.
This was only natural—the doctor was currently wholly absorbed in consuming smoked kangaroo.

“...Such being the circumstances, you see.”
“Regarding compensation, with due deference, I shall pay you the world’s greatest sum.”
“Churchill further conveys that should circumstances permit, he would gladly present to you the entire kangaroo-producing land of Australia, Doctor.”
“In exchange, I must request that you relinquish to me what you consider the world’s finest among your currently held invented weapons.”
“For upon this matter hangs the British Empire’s final opportunity—I earnestly entreat your compassion.”
“What say you now—which of your presently possessed invention weapons do you judge to be the world’s best...”

“Hmm, hmm, hmm.”

Dr. Kin merely groaned like a cat grappling with fish scraps.
It seemed the Doctor had no intention of saying anything until every last piece of the kangaroo jerky had settled into his stomach.

Thus, Lord Chier’s swift maneuver of barging in early with bait continued to disappoint Roosevelt’s male and female envoys, who scoured the streets desperately searching for any sign of Dr. Kin.

“He still hasn’t shown up, has he?”

“What could be wrong? There’s no way he isn't here...”
“There's no way he couldn't be here though...”

In Dr. Kin’s room sixty meters underground, the doctor now began to have violent hiccups.

“Hic.
“Hic.”
“Ah, that was delicious.”
“It’s been an age, you see.”
Hic, hic.
“Well then, I’ll take a little nap.”

Being Dr. Kin—a man who knew no restraint—he ignored the flustered Lord Chier, flopped onto his side, and promptly began snoring—guu guu—resoundingly.

“Now Doctor, to call this a dine-and-dash—that’s rather harsh…”

With that, the lord stood to shake the doctor awake—but halted.
There’d be no achieving his envoy’s objective if he roused that contrary old coot now and provoked another fit of obstinacy—he ground his teeth in agonizing restraint.
Yet Lord Chier was no common rodent.
Fortunately, beyond the slumbering doctor nearby lay no witnesses; the secret laboratory held no prying eyes save his own.
Seizing this chance to inspect Dr.Kin’s recent armaments, Lord Chier set to rummaging about at once, his pirate-descended eyes gleaming fiercely.

To his surprise, none of the room doors were locked.
So he could enter any room.
Dr. Kin’s laboratory was far too cluttered to discern what constituted the primary focus of research.
Lord Chier, thinking it would be tiresome to bring back something like Kipp’s well-known hydrogen gas generator only to be ridiculed if it turned out to be a splendid poison gas manufacturing device, decided not to touch the laboratory and proceeded to the next room.

The next room was a model chamber. Shelves lining all four walls displayed rows of the Doctor's newly invented weapon models, arrayed like merchandise in a toy shop window. As Lord Chier inspected each piece in turn, his sighs flowed incessantly. Every item proved to be a drool-worthy treasure beyond measure—three-stage amphibious assault craft, hyper-rocket bombs, submersible fighter planes, subterranean tanks, coral reef bridge-layers, urban defense electro-nets, modular fortress tanks, and submarine transport trains. Each covetable creation made his eyes dart indecisively between them. Now truly reduced to endless sighing, Lord Chier's heart began pounding arrhythmically, its cadence growing more disordered by the second.

“What a problem. Which of these could possibly be the world’s best?”

That was impossible to determine.
If it could not be determined, there was no way to make a selection and proceed.
If he tried to take all of them, he simply couldn’t carry such bulky items.

“What a problem. What should I do?”

Lord Chier, forgetting to wipe the greasy sweat covering his entire face, paced restlessly around the room.
In the end, what was decided was to try searching for another room.

When Lord Chier infiltrated the fifth room, he finally attained his desired outcome.

“Ah, this is it! This is it!”

What Lord Chier dashed toward was the massive vault that dominated every wall of the room.
There could be no doubt—this was where Dr. Kin’s critical documents lay packed to bursting.

Fortunately, when it came to safe-cracking, Lord Chier possessed extraordinary skills. He was a researcher who could rightfully be called Britain’s foremost authority in this field. That massive vault was splendidly opened with a resounding creak in a mere eleven minutes.

However, inside this vault awaited something that would greatly perplex Lord Chier. What awaited was—as expected—design documents stored in over three hundred varieties, each in separate bags. Looking at the bag surfaces, every label bore some variation of “World’s Best Invention: Gravity Neutralization Device” or “World’s Best Invention: Annihilation Battle Weapon Powered by Cosmic Rays,” all uniformly prefixed with “World’s Best.” Under these circumstances, Lord Chier had absolutely no idea which one to select and bring back as the supreme world’s best invention weapon in accordance with Churchill’s orders. A man of Lord Chier’s stature, having entered a treasure trove yet becoming so intoxicated by its overwhelming abundance that he verged on acute nervous exhaustion—it would not be entirely inaccurate to say as much.

When things reached this point, humans had no choice but to revert to simplicity—whether they liked it or not. In other words, they would simply take back whatever they could carry. Lord Chier prepared two bundles of blueprint bags—as many as he could carry in both arms—then hoisted them up with a grunt and bid farewell to Dr. Kin’s room without a backward glance. The number of stolen blueprints totaled fifty-three—truly modest in its greed.

3

Churchill’s burglar envoy had finished their work and departed, but Roosevelt’s two envoys continued dawdling aimlessly.

However, their chance had finally come—now they found themselves in a situation akin to grasping a single strand of a thoroughbred’s tail.
This was because Miss Rus had astutely discovered Lead—Dr. Kin’s young assistant who happened to come to the smoked food stall to make a purchase—whereupon Belant poured his special skills into the situation, promptly making Lead their own.

“There is no one in the world who understands smoked goods like the master—indeed, he alone in all the world truly appreciates them.”

And so, Lead finally blurted out the truth.
Finally, the chance had come—Rus and Belant, who had exhausted every effort maintaining their smoked food stall disguise until today, desperately pushed down the joy welling up from the pits of their stomachs,

“My, to encounter such a dependable master—this could only be divine providence!”

“That’s right indeed.”
“And… could you come over here for a moment, beautiful Lead-san?”

“Oh my, you’re quite the smooth talker.”
“I’ll have to be cautious.”

“Oh, it’s nothing—just a frank proposal. If you mediate between us and Dr. Kin, his trust in you will grow fivefold or even tenfold.”
“Your salary would increase, and you’d get to eat delicious things.”
“Not only that—we’d also allocate a portion of our profits to you.”
“Of course this is absolutely not an underhanded deal—it’s legitimate gain, and well… Lead-san…”

And so, Belant—seizing this moment as his chance—poured out every ounce of his business acumen and finally secured Lead completely.

In that case, they had to launch into their real business without delay.
Rus lowered a food container crammed with assorted smoked dishes and signaled Belant with her eyes.
Thereupon, the three of them descended together to the basement where Dr. Kin resided.

Dr. Kin, having woken from sleep, was shuffling unsteadily around the room.

A skull-like large head, black glasses, distinctive mustache and beard, a gaunt body wrapped in black Chinese attire—from what crevice of this physique could such brilliant ideas and fearsome energy possibly emerge?

"Hum-hmm, hum-hmm, hum-hmm"

Dr. Kin continued making strange throat-clearing noises as he moved about the room.
Whether it was despair or triumph remained utterly unclear.
He passed by the large vault Lord Chier had left wide open several times but did not even glance in its direction.

Thereupon, Lead entered.

“Doctor, I found a wonderful smoked dish being sold in town, so I bought it for you.”

“Smoked dishes?”
“I’ve had enough smoked dishes!”

“Oh, but this is your favorite smoked dish!”

Lead wore an expression of surprise at the Doctor’s response.
Behind them, Rus and Belant exchanged worried looks.

“I already said I’ve had enough smoked dishes!”
“I just ate enough kangaroo jerky to make me sick of it.”
“I’m stuffed.”

“My, however did you come to eat so much?”
“The thief brought it here and told me t’eat.”
“The thief...”

“That’s right.”
“Lord Chier—he’s that Churchill bastard’s special envoy, see.”
“A man painfully bad at feigning morphine addiction.”

“Is that the thief?”

“He’s a master thief.”
“Look at that.”
“Made off with two whole armfuls of new weapon blueprint bags from my vault.”
“Outrageous scoundrel!”

“My, so you didn’t catch that thief?”

The surprise lay not with Lead but within Roosevelt’s special envoys Miss Rus and Belant stationed behind.
Though they had come all this way, being beaten to the punch by Churchill’s envoy made for an exceedingly poor turn of events.

“I let that thief escape.”
“And besides, I was completely stuffed—moving even a finger felt like too much trouble.”

“My, if it were the usual you, you would never have let them escape…”

Miss Rus gently pulled Lead’s sleeve at this moment.
Thus Lead came to her senses and remembered she had taken on the role of recommending smoked dishes to Dr.Kin, but in this situation, there was no way to make the recommendation.
Belant, having noticed her utterly troubled face, immediately leapt forward, sidled up to the Doctor, and began questioning.

“Dr. Kin. We’ve come bearing smoked dishes, but in truth, we’re President Roosevelt’s special envoys—”

In that American fashion of laying everything bare without hesitation—contrary to expectations that the Doctor would be shocked—

“I know full well,” he said, hitting the bullseye dead center. “Belant and Miss Rus, I presume? You’ve come to buy my invented weapons—and me along with them.”

Belant’s astonishment left him stammering: “Huh?!”

He trailed off, words failing him.

It was in such moments that women proved their mettle—seeing Belant had been knocked out cold, she leapt forward and seized the Doctor’s arm.

“It is I, Miss Rus, who have just presented myself before you.”
“Since it is exactly as you stated, I earnestly request that you enter into a contract.”
“In exchange, whatever the Doctor desires... and please do partake of this specially prepared smoked bison—an American specialty—just one bite.”
“This is indeed the world’s finest delicacy.”

When it came to persuading Dr. Kin, Miss Rus too adhered to the ironclad rule that smoked dishes were the surest path in any era.
Not only did she adhere to it, but Miss Rus flung open the lid of a food container packed with smoked bison and such before the Doctor without a hint of hesitation.

4

It had worked after all.
Smoked dishes were, for Dr.Kin, akin to the linden leaf that had clung to Siegfried’s neck.
That was the giant’s sole vulnerability.
Dr.Kin had now turned gentle as a lamb, seating Miss Rus and Mr.Belant before him.
Though truth be told, the Doctor himself sat transferring their offered smoked bison onto a platter while voraciously stuffing his face.

Being Americans—that breed which charges unhesitatingly into matters’ core—the Miss and Mister now shed their smoked-meat vendor disguises with practiced ease, proclaimed themselves President Roosevelt’s special envoys, and arrayed themselves before Dr.Kin.
Speed was essential.
“Doctor.”
“As a premier-grade terror of a new weapon—what might you provide us?”

“Hmm,” Dr. Kin grunted through a mouthful of bison jerky. “Mrmph...”

“We request you provide us with something formidable—a weapon that would leave the enemy utterly helpless,” pressed Miss Rus. “As one token of gratitude, we’d be honored to escort you to Alaska.” She leaned forward, lacquered nails tapping the smoked meat platter. “Eskimo smoked dishes are truly the world’s finest delicacy.”

“I don’t eat humans,” Dr. Kin declared, washing down the meat with a theatrical gulp of water.

“That was Belant’s regrettable phrasing,” Miss Rus countered without missing a beat. Her smile sharpened as she produced a contract scroll from her sleeve. “Doctor—regarding a new weapon to instantly subjugate entire nations... what might you currently have available?”

“I know full well. Then I’ll show you around.”

Dr. Kin, who today was uncharacteristically in good spirits, led the two envoys to his laboratory.

“This here is the visitor identity analyzer.”

“And,” Dr. Kin pointed to the complex low-voltage device embedded in the wall and said, “when someone approaches the entrance door, this human body frequency analyzer activates, breaking down every characteristic and thought of that person and printing them onto this self-recording paper.”
“Look, this is that Lord Chier’s portion.”
“The remaining two are yours.”

With that, he pulled out something resembling a player piano’s perforated roll and showed it.
Rus and Belant suddenly broke into a cold sweat.

The next room was the model chamber.
As they stepped into the room, both special envoys were instantly captivated by the vast array of weapon models crammed tightly on the shelves.

"What might this be?"

“What is this?”

“Ah, those’re nothin’ but outdated models.”
“Just what every nation’s weapons labs’re secretly cookin’ up these days.”
“Startin’ on those now’d be too late by half.”
“Over here.”

Dr. Kin moved to the next room with a disinterested expression.

“Inside this large vault are 550 types of new weapon blueprint portfolios labeled as the world’s best.”

“Oh, as many as 550 types?”

“That’s right.”
“Just now, that mud-smeared Lord Chier made off with fifty-three types from among them.”

“Well, Lord Chier... he took... fifty-three types...”
“That’s terrible.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be shocked.”
“In just another thirty minutes, Lord Chier will come to regret it.”

“By that you mean...”

“Those fifty-three documents will spontaneously combust in about thirty minutes.”

“Spontaneous combustion?”

“That’s right.”
“As long as these documents remain in an environment with specific temperature, humidity, and air pressure, they’re safe.”
“In other words, this room is a constant temperature-humidity-pressure chamber maintained in its proper permanent state.”
“Therefore, once they’re moved elsewhere and subjected to differing temperature, humidity, and air pressure, after a set time, the documents deteriorate and spontaneously combust.”
“Lord Chier—according to that device’s analysis—is now flying toward India with that cargo aboard his plane. Just watch: in thirty minutes, the plane will burst into flames midair and crash.”
“That’s good punishment for a thief.”

“Hmm… Well now…”

Belant and Rus widened their eyes in shock and exchanged glances.

“I am inherently cool-headed.”
“I’ll hear your demands anew and sell you something fitting posthaste.”
“State your terms.”

“Oh, that’s most kind of you. Doctor, what America desires is the world’s most fearsome new destructive weapon—one that cannot be defended against by any means. We humbly request to receive such a device.”

“That’s right. Battleships may be mighty, but they’re vulnerable to airplanes; airplanes may be swift, but they’re vulnerable to radar; radar may be precise, but it’s vulnerable to counter-radar rockets—and Dr.Kin may be… or rather—no, that’s rude… In any case, the new weapon Roosevelt so humbly requests must be an unstoppable, indestructible marvel akin to a hurricane—utterly devoid of weakness! We entreat you to provide it.”

“Ah,” came the response. “In that case, the conjugate rotating bullet perfectly matches your conditions.”

“Hmm! The conjugate rotating bullet!” Dr.Kin exclaimed. “Ah, what a magnificent designation! How overjoyed your president would be!”

“Well now,” Belant interjected, “that would be number fifty-four.”

With that, Dr. Kin pulled out one of the blueprint documents from the large vault.
He had been peering into the bag’s opening when he smoothly slipped out a large folded paper.
He spread it out on the desk.

“Oh my, it’s blank.”

Rus was shocked.

Dr. Kin nonchalantly pinned down the four corners of the large paper.
He had been searching under the desk and pressed one of the push buttons with a click.
Then the paper suddenly took on a fluorescent hue and began to glow.
On the blank paper’s surface, a blueprint materialized with vivid clarity.

“The conjugate rotating bullet works like this: two hard spheres are connected at precisely ninety degrees to each other, like the links of a chain, and rotate at tremendous high speed.”
“They mutually stimulate each other to accelerate rotation, never stopping permanently.”
“You may consider this hard sphere to be an exceptionally large atomic nucleus—one I spent five years specially crafting.”
“In terms of hardness and weight, it is truly the world’s best.”
“And when this undergoes conjugate rotation and speeds up, its velocity becomes approximately thirty times that of sound waves.”
“Moreover, this has another name—‘Iron’s Curse’—and it chases down iron materials to destroy them.”
“Thus, any tank groups, any great fleet groups, any armed forces—all will instantly be shattered by this rotating bullet.”
“Nothing on this earth can withstand destruction by the conjugate rotating bullet.”
“Well? Are you listening?”

“Oh yes, I’m listening! My, what a magnificent new weapon this is!”

“Ah, it’s worth one hundred billion dollars.”
“The actual device is over here.”
“Come and see.”

Dr. Kin calmly guided them further back to an inner room.
It was a space resembling a warehouse.
Where Dr. Kin stood and pointed lay a single wooden box.
The box measured two cubic meters.

“This one.”
“It’s inside here.”

“My, it isn’t dangerous at all.”

“No danger yet - activation’s still dormant.”
“Pull this rod out first, and a subtle chemical reaction starts in one section.”
“That reaction builds up gradually until a tiny gear kicks into motion.”
“Electricity sparks.”
“A small motor whirs.”
“Traction force swells up bit by bit, power surges through, then both hard spheres come crawling from either side - spinning like mad.”
“That’s when the box starts cracking apart with this awful splintering noise.”
“Out pops the bullet with a spring-loaded bounce.”
“Then comes the real show - crunching, rumbling destruction from here to kingdom come.”

“Hell of a thing.”

“If you know when this box arrives at its destination, break a suitable time fuse before pulling out the activation rod—it’s rigged to start rotating exactly at the appointed time.”
“How many hours until this box reaches its destination, is it?”

Dr. Kin turned toward the two envoys.

“Yes.”
“Regarding arrival at the destination—we’ll call for a transport aircraft now and can depart this location within one hour. Then we’ll fly the remaining 6,999 kilometers to Washington at an average speed of 800 kilometers per hour, taking eight hours and forty-five minutes.”
“Transporting it immediately by car from the airfield to the White House and securing an audience with the President would require fifteen minutes.”
“That totals exactly ten hours.”
“Ten hours.”
“Doctor.”

“Ten hours—ah, splendid.”
“I shall calibrate it to activate precisely ten hours hence.”

5

Roosevelt’s two envoys, rejoicing as if they’d captured the devil himself, immediately sent telegrams to inform the President of their intent to “return home with the conjugate rotating bullet,” summoned transport planes, and frantically gathered Chinese mainland souvenirs—scurrying like frenzied mice through it all—yet still managed to become passengers aboard the transport plane within one hour.
Of course, the box containing the conjugate rotating bullet was carefully stored onboard the aircraft.

They departed the continent.
They ascended to the stratosphere in one go, plowed through headwinds as they continued flying east, and triumphantly returned to Washington as planned.

The subsequent story was more appropriately described in Dr. Kin’s room.

Dr. Kin was uncharacteristically reading a newspaper.
It was the evening paper of the following day.

A special report on a major incident conveyed in white-outlined special headline-sized type spanning the entire top section of the newspaper...

“Washington collapses overnight—the White House becomes first casualty.”
“Close call—President Roosevelt narrowly escapes with his life.”
“Truth behind collapse incident remains completely unknown.”

“Is invisible phantom tank behind Washington collapse? —Destruction spreads south through munitions factory zone—”
“—Collapse continues advancing—Now moving through arms production district—”

“Damage finally reaches New York City.
“High-rise building district completely destroyed overnight.”

“An Account of Hearing the Invisible Tank’s Roar—Notes by Daredevil Special Correspondent Arnold”

“The 58th Tank Corps dispatched to suppress the invisible tank is annihilated.
Air Force bombing proves ineffective.
No prospect of suppression whatsoever.”

“Suspects in Bizarre Crime—Ms.Rus and Mr.Belant—Lynched Last Night”

Lead informed Dr.Kin that a wireless call had come through.The doctor tossed his newspaper onto his desk and faced his transmitter.

“Yes yes.”
“Dr. Kin here.”
“What? No matter how many times you ask about that matter, I can’t give a different answer.”
“Roosevelt.”
“The conjugate rotating bullet’s invention remains incomplete—I devised the activation method, but haven’t yet figured out how to stop it.”
“So there’s no solution…… Even if you order me to devise one now, that’s impossible.”
“I’ve spent a whole year pondering it already—there’s simply no viable stopping method.”
“For now we’ve no choice but to let the rotating bullet rampage to its heart’s content.”
“……That won’t do.”
“Don’t you have that prized scholar Einstein on your side?”
“You’d do better consulting that man.”
“What? He threw down his spoon and killed himself?”
“Fools… Regardless, I bear no responsibility.”
“I merely did exactly as your envoys proposed.”
“If you’ve so many complaints, why not come here yourself from now on?”
“I won’t answer this phone anymore.”
“Well then—goodbye.”

Dr. Kin switched off the transceiver with a sharp click, then shook his beard and burst into uproarious laughter.

And he muttered to himself.

"What fools they are.
Didn't I tell them I'd set the timer device so the conjugate rotating bullet would activate when they reached their destination?
When they speak of a 'destination,' it must be a battlefield.
What fool would bother carrying that thing all the way to Washington?
Why must those Americans always be so rash?"

He gulped audibly,

"Still, losing two smoked dish masters like Rus and Belant at once is a tremendous loss for the world.
Ah yes—there's still some bison jerky left somewhere."

Dr. Kin grinned, stood up, and stuck his head into the refrigerator.