Dr. Quake, page 14
part #5 of The Destroyer Series
“You believe that science is one thing and the spirits of man another.”
“Chiun, this is a machine. If it were a thousand men, little father, I would not doubt you.”
“It is all one,” said Chiun, and he briefly surveyed the long stilts and the giant metal nozzle pointing into the belly of the earth. “I will remind this insolent machine of its vibrations.”
“We’re all doomed,” yelled Dr. Quake with laughter that was despair, a final not-caring before the end.
“Fool,” said Chiun to the kneeling figure. And his black robe disappeared up the stilts. Remo could discern only an edge of the robe outlined against the moon at the pinnacle of the steeple.
The robe fluttered once and then the earth seemed to explode. The muffling silence became a shriek as if someone had clanged cymbals in Remo’s ears. The stillness became a giant snap as if someone had pulled strings on Remo’s legs; he was suddenly somersaulting, his legs flying wildly. Then a tremendous vibration slapped Remo’s finely tuned body almost to the cracking point. He was on the ground. Blood filled his mouth. He could not focus his eyes.
He was rolled over, and he saw the moon as a fuzzy yellow bulb above him. He groaned and then breathed. Something blocked the moon. He heard Chiun’s voice. Chiun was standing over him.
“It broke. Heh. Heh. Nothing works in America except me.”
“Ooh,” said Remo. “What happened?”
“I taught this little device to remember its vibrations.”
“Don’t let Dr. Quake escape,” said Remo. He felt wet coolness envelop his back.
“Escape? He was in even worse condition than you. He is dead, his body unable to accept a little buffeting.”
“A little buffeting? I almost died.”
“Last year you ate a hamburger with ketchup and said that would not harm you. Two years ago it was a steak. And even at your Christmas time you consumed a bubbling drink laden with sugar, yet now you complain of a little buffeting.”
“Will I make it?”
“Not if you kill your body with your mouth.”
“I mean will I be able to walk again? Have I bought the package?”
“You mean will you return to your former standards of shoddy performances, gross eating habits and disrespect?”
“You like to take advantage of the helpless, don’t you?”
“When I tell you to consume only healthy foods, I am helping you. But you do not wish to be helped. When I tell you proper mental attitudes, you forget them and do not wish to be helped. Now you ask for help. How do I know you will take it?”
“I’ll take it. I’ll take it already, you sonuvabitch.”
“Disrespect, you learn well.”
“Please.”
“Breathe to fullness,” Chiun commanded, as though Remo were back in the first days of training, when he heard the elderly Oriental explain that all force came first from breathing.
The breathing was painful and then Remo felt another shock and he was on his feet. Water puddled around his ankles. Dr. Quake’s body was folded in two, his chin resting on his groin, his spinal column snapped. Behind him the aluminum spire had also snapped, and water gushed harmless undirected from two large pipes.
The moon played golden on the sloshy wet ground. The birds no longer called in hysterical shrieks. The California night air tasted fresh and good and rich.
“When the machine remembered its vibrations, it died,” said Chiun.
“That explains it,” said Remo. “How are you with electric toasters?”
“Better than you young white men,” said Chiun, using what Remo knew was Chiun’s ultimate insult.
“You wouldn’t happen to know the geological result of all this, would you?” asked Remo.
“The earth is wounded and it will one day shriek in pain. I would not wish to be here when it yells.”
“I guess that says it all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
THE MINI-REPORT OVER THE telephone was a pleasure in its delivery. Smith was truly shocked that Dr. Quake had been behind the scheme. And suddenly Remo realized why.
“He was on our payroll. Admit it. One of ours. That’s why you didn’t think he was involved. Admit it.”
“I don’t know everyone who’s on our payroll,” Smith said dryly. Remo cradled the receiver in the crook of his neck. He had shut the door of the pay phone booth, apparently trapping a full third of California’s insect population.
“Wow,” Remo said. “That’s something. You put a guy on the payroll who nearly destroys half of California.”
“Don’t forget the million and a half,” Smith said.
“What a loser you turned out to be,” Remo said.
But the click of the phone across the continent interrupted his gloating. The pleasure disappeared like the coin in the phone box.
Remo cracked open the box with a snap of his forefinger, shattering the lock. He opened the change vessel with a crush of his right hand and scooped up nickels, dimes and quarters. Then he threw them at the California moon.
He missed.
About the Authors
WARREN MURPHY was born in Jersey City, where he worked in journalism and politics until launching the Destroyer series with Richard Sapir in 1971. A screenwriter (Lethal Weapon II, The Eiger Sanction) as well as a novelist, Murphy’s work has won a dozen national awards, including multiple Edgars and Shamuses. He has lectured at many colleges and universities, and is currently offering writing lessons at his website, warrenmurphy.com. A Korean War veteran, some of Murphy’s hobbies include golf, mathematics, opera, and investing. He has served on the board of the Mystery Writers of America, and has been a member of the Screenwriters Guild, the Private Eye Writers of America, the International Association of Crime Writers, and the American Crime Writers League. He has five children: Deirdre, Megan, Brian, Ardath, and Devin.
RICHARD BEN SAPIR was a New York native who worked as an editor and in public relations before creating the Destroyer series with Warren Murphy. Before his untimely death in 1987, Sapir had also penned a number of thriller and historical mainstream novels, best known of which were The Far Arena, Quest and The Body, the last of which was made into a film. The book review section of the New York Times called him “a brilliant professional.”
Also by Warren Murphy
The Destroyer Series (#1-25)
Created, The Destroyer
Death Check
Chinese Puzzle
Mafia Fix
Dr. Quake
Death Therapy
Union Bust
Summit Chase
Murder's Shield
Terror Squad
Kill or Cure
Slave Safari
Acid Rock
Judgment Day
Murder Ward
Oil Slick
Last War Dance
Funny Money
Holy Terror
Assassin’s Playoff
Deadly Seeds
Brain Drain
Child’s Play
King’s Curse
Sweet Dreams
The Trace Series
Trace
And 47 Miles of Rope
When Elephants Forget
Pigs Get Fat
Once a Mutt
Too Old a Cat
Getting up with Fleas
Copyright
This digital edition of Dr. Quake (v1.3) was published in 2012 by Gere Donovan Press.
If you downloaded this book from a filesharing network, either individually or as part of a larger torrent, the author has received no compensation. Please consider purchasing a legitimate copy—they are reasonably priced, and available from all major outlets. And if you enjoy it, leave a positive review. Your author thanks you.
Copyright © 2012 by Warren Murphy
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons—living or dead—events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Errata
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Warren Murphy, Dr. Quake
