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electronic impulse。〃
〃What good is it？〃 Remo asked。
〃Well； medically； it's very important。 We could help save lives of people who are troubled with heart irregularities。 Asthmatics could learn to will their way out of serious breathing attacks。 Psychosomatic illnesses could virtually be wiped out。〃 He was warming to his subject now。
As he talked on； Remo thought that Chiun should have been sent here to investigate this place。 The aged Korean with his fishheads and rice and Zen could give all these big brains a run for their money。 During those long training sessions； he remembered seeing Chiun slow his heart beat until it was almost imperceptible； his breathing rate until he appeared to be dead。 Chiun had told Remo that Chiun's father could stanch the flow of blood by thinking about it。 〃The mind；〃 he said。 〃You cannot control the body until you control the mind。〃
〃Where did you learn to do it？；〃 Ferrante intruded on Remo's thoughts。
〃Do what？〃
〃The business with those shits out in the courtyard。〃
〃Around。 Correspondence courses。 A one…hour work…out every month whether I want to or not。 Helps keep me in trim。〃
Ferrante had recovered his poise now。 Still wearing the incongruous judo outfit； he was very much the world…renowned scientist。
He showed Remo the equipment he worked with； and Remo thought that scientific equipment everywhere on every project is probably interchangeable。 These fakers probably trade it around among themselves like used books。 There was a chair with a hand grip through which a minor electric shock passed into the subject if he failed to respond and another helmet； like Schulter's； through which pleasurable waves passed by induction into the brain。
Ferrante was offering to test Remo。 Well； I owe him one。 I'll give him something to chew on。 He sat in the chair and his resting pulse rate was sixty…eight。 If the rate went up； Ferrante said； he'd get a slight shock through the hand grip。 A down rate would bring a pleasure impulse through the helmet he placed over Remo's head。
Ferrante set a metronome at sixty…five beats per minute。 〃That's the goal；〃 he told Remo； 〃but don't be disappointed if you don't make it。 Hardly anyone does。〃
The metronome was ticking； Ferrante was holding Remo's wrist in a running check on his pulse； and Remo was remembering the trick Chiun had taught him。 Set up your own rhythm； wipe out external impulses； speed up your breathing pattern to match the desired heart rate； and let the hyper…ventilation of the lungs slow the heart by flooding the blood with oxygen。
〃Ready？；〃 Ferrante asked。 〃I'll call out your heart rate as we go along so you can try to adjust。〃
〃How bad's the shock？〃 Remo asked。 〃I'm afraid of electric chairs。〃
〃Nothing to worry about；〃 Ferrante said。 〃More like a buzz than a real shock。 Start。。。。 now。〃
The metronome was clicking its sixty…five beats per minute and Remo tuned his breathing pattern into it。
〃Sixty…eight；〃 Ferrante called。 Remo quietly snorted his breath in and out。
〃Sixty…six。〃
Remo closed his eyes to the metronome and blanked the sound of its rhythms out of his mind。 He chose a new lower rhythm； and adjusted his breathing to it。
〃Sixty…four。〃 Ferrante was delighted。 Remo breathed。
〃Sixty。〃
… 〃Fifty…nine。〃。
Remo decided to call a halt when he had dropped his heart rate down to forty…two。 Ferrante didn't know whether to be delighted or upset； or whether he had been cheated。
〃That's incredible；〃 he said。 〃I never saw anything like that。〃
〃I told you； I'm afraid of electric chairs。 And I've got a low tolerance of pain。〃
And then there was Ratchett。 Remo never had a chance to figure out what Ratchett did； or how to get to him； because Ratchett refused to open the door to his cottage which； unlike the other top staff； he used only for an office； preferring to live in his eggshell home a few hundred yards away。
〃Go away；〃 he shouted。 〃I don't like you。〃
〃I thought you wanted to see me；〃 Remo told the closed door。
〃If I never see you； it will be too soon。 Go away。〃
〃Must I assume； Doctor Ratchett； that you don't like me？〃
〃You will be well within the limits of possibility； Mister Pelham； if you assume that I loathe you。 Now go away before I call a cop。 One of your own will know how to deal with you。〃
Remo turned and walked away。 Ratchett too would be easy if the call came。 He did not realize that someone else would issue the call for Ratchett before CURE did。
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Later that day； the staff department heads of Brewster Forum had held their regular weekly meeting in Brewster's office。 Dr。 Deborah Hirshbloom was absent。
Ferrante was talking about the new director of security。 〃So basically； he's a coward。 Terribly afraid of pain。 Just the threat of the electric shock produced an incredible swing hi his pulse rate。〃
He sat down。 Abram Schulter's chuckle broke the silence。 〃Inadequate data； Professor Ferrante。 Incorrect analysis of the inadequate data。 Mr。 Pelham is fearless。 Cold blooded！ In brain wave analysis； he had absolutely no reaction to any of the external stimuli。 None at all。〃
〃Probably；〃 Ratchett snarled； 〃you failed to have the machine plugged in。 Did either of you consider that Pel…ham's intelligence is probably just too low to respond adequately to stimuli which is emotionally charged； but also intellectually powerful？〃
〃Is that your feeling？〃 Boyle asked。 〃That Pelham is of low intelligence？〃
〃Of course；〃 Ratchett said。 〃Isn't it obvious？ And think of his performance out in the courtyard with that awful gang。 Is that a sign of intelligence？〃
Boyle smiled。 〃I might suggest that there is more intelligence involved in chasing them away than there is in calling them here。〃
Ratchett flushed。 Boyle went on。 〃I would say Mr。 Pelham's intelligence is extremely high。 He is also very devious and suspicious。 He answers a question with a question。 It's a yid trick…excuse me； Abram…but it's also the sign of a man used to intellectual sparing； who always looks for a quid before giving away a quo。〃
Nils Brewster listened quietly through all this； sucking on his pipe； his hands resting on his corpulent stomach； his nose encased in more bandage than was really necessary。 If Brewster had a secret for his success； it was this： his ability to dominate a group； keep them splintered and leaderless and unable to challenge his authority。 He finally spoke。
〃Well；〃 he said； 〃I suppose that settles it。 Our new policeman is either very smart or very stupid。 He is either a coward or absolutely fearless。〃 He looked at all of them and sneered。 〃Another victory for intellectual analysis。〃
〃This sounds curiously like the argument about whether a shark is brave； because he will attack anything no matter how big； or cowardly； because he prefers to feed off the crippled； the sick and the dying。 Or is a lion clever； as he shows himself to be in his stalking of prey； or stupid； as he indicates by his irrational behavior when caged in a zoo？
〃The fact is； as all of you should know by now； that the shark is neither brave nor cowardly。 And the lion is neither clever nor stupid。 They exist outside of these concepts。 They are instinctual and those