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Naturally Remo could not do his more exotic exercises in the Forum gymnasium； assuming that the continued sustaining of peak had not drained his abilities too much to do them at all。
But he could always exercise in the bed on his back； which might be enough。 He stared at the ceiling and set his mind on a long road that had wound around the inside of the walls at Folcroft Sanitarium where he had received his first training。 He mentally stepped out onto the black gravel path and felt the wetness of the air ing in off Long Island Sound and smelled the stale after…odor of the burnings of yesterday's leaves and he was off。 Five quick miles today。
Looking at Remo in the bed at Brewster Forum； one would see only the leg muscles twitching and the chest moving regularly with the heavy breathing。 In fact； it was the breathing that made the run worthwhile； and when he approached the last lap he began to sprint； pressing his deadened legs； gasping for breath and pushing； pushing； pushing。 He had always been able to do the last lap with speed。 But this morning the legs were just not there and the energy needed for the sprint couldn't be called up。 He did not allow the thought that he might not be able to finish the final lap； although he did not know for sure how he could make it； and the pain became unendurable。 He had not had so much trouble since he first began running。
He never did find out if he could finish。 There was a knock on the door of his room in the workers' house of Brewster Forum。 Remo heard it and not wanting to open the door in an exhausted condition； went into a recover。 Fortunately； he was in bed； the process being a plete nothing。 Abandon all nerves； senses and muscles； drop all controls。 Bee a vegetable。 The effect on the body was like an electric shock in water。 The trick was to do everything simultaneously； because the heart could miss a beat； and if the rest of the system were still coursing through heavy exercise； it might not pick up that beat。
But it did； and Remo； sweat…drenched； but breathing like he had just awakened from a sleep； answered the door。 He knew that the normal breathing； the lack of a heat…flushed appearance； would make the perspiration appear like water。
The man in the door was late middle…age； but his face was fleshy with hard lines； strangely unbroken by his round metal…framed eyeglasses。 He wore a dark summer suit with white shirt and black tie； and offered a truly mechanical smile； the non…joyous likes of which Remo had not seen since the last Presidential campaign。
〃Excuse me；〃 said the man； with a polishing of gutturals in his voice。 〃I am Martin Stohrs； your chess instructor。 I did not realize you were in the shower。 I am sorry。〃
〃No；〃 said Remo。 〃I was trying to unstop the sink。〃
〃And it exploded？〃
〃In a way。〃
〃I don't imagine you can invite me in？〃 He was looking at the bed…filled room。
〃More like a bed with a room around it； no？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Terrible。 Terrible。 A man of your talent and abilities living in a room like this next to the servants。〃
〃It's okay with me。〃
〃Terrible。 This should be outlawed。 Security work in every place in the world is an honored profession requiring the highest of abilities and courage and discipline。 And they put you here。 I will speak to Brewster about this。〃
〃He put me here。〃
Stohrs changed the subject。 〃I came to invite you to my house for the honor of a game with you； and if you would also honor me； I would appreciate your pany at dinner。 I had mentioned the game the other day when you had finished with those motorcycle swine； but you probably did not hear me。〃
〃Thanks anyway； I have a date。〃
〃So soon？〃
〃Well； it's sort of business。 One of the staff。 Doctor Hirshbloom。〃
〃Ah； Deborah。 Surprising。 She rarely sees anyone。 Un usual when you consider that this is a think tank； and
what fills the tank mostly is words and more words。〃 He seemed charmed by his joke。
〃I'm not sure what this is。〃
〃Hah； no one else is either。 I like you。 We must play。〃
〃Thanks again； but some other time。 I'm on my way to see someone now。〃
〃Ach。 Excuse me； most assuredly。 The invitation is open。〃
Remo thanked him again and shut the door。 He dressed in a pair of white chinos and a blue sports shirt。 His two
suits hung in the bathroom； the closet door not having room enough to open。
Stohrs was waiting downstairs。 He was apologetic。 He had not wished to intrude on Remo Pelham。 He was not the pushy type like some people。 He was not the pushy type for the mile and a half walk to the circle of cottages。 He made that clear several limes。
〃You see； I e from a culture that appreciates privacy； just as it appreciates the true role of the policeman。 You have violence in this country today because the policeman is not respected。 Order is not respected。 Now； in my country； no policeman would ever be forced to live in the servants' quarters when a golf instructor lives in a house。 Yes？〃
〃Yes； what？〃 asked Remo； noticing how the night came unexpectedly fast for the summer。 Or was it his imagination； or even worse； the losing of touch with time and senses and feeling。 He did a toe walk so smoothly that he knew Stohrs did not notice and thus reassured himself that he could still do special things and therefore need not worry about his senses。 It was the night。
〃Yes； do you agree with me？〃
〃Certainly；〃 Remo said。 He began working his fingers； in a dexterity drill； playing speed。 You separated the coordination of the hands； then played finger tip against fingertip； with the nails of the hand just touching； then retreating。 Done quickly enough； it looked like nervous praying。
〃These are terrible times we live in。 No？〃； 〃It's always a terrible time。〃
〃Not always。 And not everywhere。〃
〃You could say that。〃
〃You must like this place。 And to like this place you must e from a place that is not so nice； yes？〃
〃Are you asking me where I'm from？〃
〃No； no。 Of course not。 I mean unless you wish to tell me。〃
〃I don't particularly。〃
〃Good。 You will find that I am not the prying type。 I am just one who respects excellence。 I respected your chess play。 Where did you learn to play？〃
〃From Delphurm Bresky； a lawyer in Jersey City；〃 Remo said； making up a name he knew couldn't exist。
〃Then you are from Jersey City。 A wonderful town。〃
〃Jersey City； a wonderful town？〃
〃Well； it's gone down since that wonderful mayor you had。〃
〃Who？〃
〃Francis Hague。〃
〃That bum was a dictator。〃
〃Yes。 A terrible man。 You worked long in Jersey City？〃
〃No。〃
〃A short tune？〃
〃No。〃
〃Ah。 You never worked there。 Well； I am not one to seek a person's resume the first time I meet him。 Especially not someone I like and respect； who has been abused by the powers that be。 I am here only to offer my help。〃
Remo worked the shoulders and neck； using Stohrs as a foil。 If he could do the control exercises just beneath Stohrs' level of awareness； it would be a good feedback check。
〃You know； there are some civilizations that adore men of violence。〃
〃Yeah。 Most；〃 Remo said。 〃The others bee vassal states。〃
〃Right。 You are a man of the world；〃 Stohrs said； slapping Remo's back in joy。 It was unfortu