Indonesian Gold (34 page)

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Authors: Kerry B. Collison

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Indonesian Gold
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Within two weeks of first establishing camp, drilling
samples were already being taken and recorded. Sharon had opted for the rotary air blast-drilling
program (RAB), a percussion method that grinds the rock by vibrating vertically, then uses air
under compression to blow the residual to the surface, where the sample is collected. It was her
intention to build a credible report based on a series of shallow holes drilled to around forty
meters, doctoring the samples in such a way as to demonstrate a consistency in the
findings.

Sharon
's program required for
a progressive increase in the amount of gold to be ‘discovered' in the primary drilling
operation. She understood the import of credibility associated with such findings, determined to
demonstrate that the integrity of the recovery process had been monitored within industry
parameters at all times. Sharon had decided to send samples to a well recognized Australian
laboratory where further analyses would be conducted, the results sure to support her own
findings at the Longdamai site. She knew that there would be skeptics but, with such objective,
supportive evidence and the locality of the site, Sharon was convinced that her scheme would
succeed.

The helicopter yawed momentarily, thumping along through
the morning's thermals, sending Sharon scrambling for the contents of her aluminum briefcase as
these were scattered across the metal floor. Ignoring the pilot's admonishing shake of his head
for not wearing the safety harness, Sharon gathered her papers, relieved that the hypodermics and
half-kilo gold bars secreted inside her case had not been dislodged, her fingers tapping the
securely sealed, glass jars which contained solutions of potassium cyanide, essential to the
successful execution of the salting process.

Sharon Ducay's plan was not dissimilar to that used by
Kremenchug's associates in the West Australian scam more than a year before. She would simply
ensure that there would be a gradual ‘spiking' of the samples, her methodology creative in its
original conception. Prior to the project's commencement, Sharon had considered a number of means
to introduce the gold traces, but before taking a final decision, she had to know precisely what
the geology could offer, and what drilling methods would be employed. Once the RAB system had
been decided upon, she had then set about developing a methodology for introducing the gold into
the samples.

Industry practices required that samples be split, with
one being sent to a recognized analyses laboratory for testing, the other, retained under lock
and key at the mining site in the event future scrutiny be deemed necessary. Sharon intended
introducing minute gold samples into the potassium cyanide solution which would dissolve the
dust, permitting her to inject the metal through the canvas bag and its plastic liner, directly
into the sealed samples. When the cyanide solution evaporated, the gold particles would appear
throughout the sample as if in a natural state.

Sharon
reflected on the
foreign drillers engaged on site, accepting that she had to be very, very careful to avoid
raising their suspicions. The remaining Australians, Eric Baird, Calvin Alderson and Carl Patrick
would remain only for the primary drilling operation, their presence an integral part of her
scheme. Sharon expected that, although cautioned, they would be amongst the first to reveal
information relating to the high-yield results, counting on their lack of integrity to create
even greater interest through rumor and speculative action. Alderson and Patrick were sure to
swear that the find was real, pointing to the fact that they were the onsite drillers, and that
there could have been no way for others to tamper with the samples.

Her thoughts then shifted to her fellow, on-site
geologist, Eric Baird, and she frowned, undecided as to how long to keep him on contract.
Although indifferent to the man's peculiarities, Baird's behavior around the camp
was
causing distractions and Sharon detected growing hostility between him and the drillers – a
situation she needed to correct.

****

P.T. Kalimantan Gold – Longdamai
Drilling Site

‘Tell that miserable son-of-a-bitch to get his skinny,
little rear-gunner's arse out here now!' Carl Patrick bellowed, the combination of his foul
breath and the Bundaberg Rum too much for the frightened,
Modang
laborer.

A week following Sharon's return from Samarinda, a number
of down-river villagers had trickled into the camp, having learned that work was available. As
this was
Penehing
territory, the
Modang
workers were too terrified to venture
outside the camp's perimeters.

‘Baik, Tuan,'
the
small-framed man kowtowed to the drilling superintendent, terrified of the Australian's
reputation for striking his men. The villager turned and fled, running across the slippery
surface, falling and cracking his knees against larger rocks that were strewn around the
disorderly site. He ran to the geologist's tent, and called from outside.
‘Tuan!'
his
voice reflecting the urgency of his mission.
‘Tuan Eric!'
the laborer called again, this
time stepping back to permit the expatriate room to exit the four-man tent.

‘What is it?'
Mardidi
came out of the tent in half-crouched position, bending to avoid the myriad of ropes he
inevitably tripped over at least once each day.

‘Mas Mardidi,'
the
field hand was relieved to see the
Tuan's
companion. At least he could make himself
understood.
‘Tuan Carl is very angry. He sent me to invite Tuan Eric to join him down where we
are drilling.'

Mardidi's eyes searched the scene, his eyes inadvertently
coming into direct contact with the intimidating bully, designated drill boss. His sphincter
muscles tightened with the eye contact, and he turned to retreat back inside the tent where Eric
Baird lay dehydrated from yet another bout of the dreaded stomach infection that had beset the
expatriates at this site.

‘Eric,'
Mardidi sat
down beside Baird and touched his forehead again.
‘Are you strong enough to get up?'
he
asked, knowing that he was not, but hoping that the man would find the energy to do
so.

‘What is it?'
Baird's
slurred voice was without strength. He had swallowed more tablets than would have been
recommended for two with this affliction, and had added a couple of painkillers to
boot.

‘It's Mister Carl. He wants you to go down to the drilling
pits.'

Baird understood, but knew he was just not up to
staggering around the site, even for Carl Patrick. He closed his eyes, questioning his judgment
at having given the drilling to this group.
‘Tell him I'll be down shortly,'
he ordered,
hoping that the problem, whatever it might be, would disappear quickly and leave him in
peace.

* * * *

In the months since Eric Baird's interlocution with Alex
Kremenchug had led him to commit to undertake the fieldwork with Sharon Ducay, the Australian
geologist had begrudgingly acknowledged that the Filipino was capable of conducting the operation
even without his support. Although he questioned Kremenchug's insistence that he remain on site,
Baird elected to continue, if for no other reason than to avoid both his partner, Subroto, and
the General's niece, Pipi Suhartono.

Mobilization had not been without incident. Gathering
equipment and supplies in Jakarta for shipment to Balikpapan had presented the usual problems
with freight forwarders – space being finally secured on board a smaller, coastal freighter, by
paying a premium to the captain. The vessel had then been delayed, throwing Baird's schedule into
chaos from the outset. Once in Balikpapan, the shipment had been trucked to Samarinda, where his
three expatriate drillers had been waiting for more than a week. Sharon Ducay had arrived soon
thereafter on a direct charter flight from the Philippines, assuming operational control over the
programme. Baird had hired a houseboat and a number of small barges to take them up as far as the
rapids, from where the difficult work commenced, shifting the cumbersome RAB transportable rig,
compressors and ancillary gear to the site by helicopter, where the Australian drillers would
reassemble the equipment.

As labor had been one of their primary concerns, Baird had
suggested that they employ the
Modang
river people to assist with the transportation and,
once on site, approach the local villagers for their labor force. Before departing Jakarta, Baird
and Sharon Ducay had spent considerable time discussing the operation by telephone and facsimile,
reaching agreement where to establish the main camp, prior to his departing the capital. They had
sent a small group ahead to prepare for the main body's arrival, and to scout for local workers.
For a brief time, there had been a reasonable semblance of harmony between drillers and the local
laborers who had followed the expedition upstream, to the site. Mardidi however, had a falling
out with one of the expatriate riggers and, from that moment, the atmosphere around the camp had
deteriorated dramatically.

As he lay listlessly listening to others moving around the
camp Eric Baird wondered if he might have succeeded in another field of endeavor, wishing at that
particular moment that he had followed his mother's advice, and studied law.

****

He had never been overly interested in sports at school,
his small, frail frame often the object of both bullies and pedophiliac teachers of the middle
persuasion. Academically, he was not considered overly bright, although he did manage to achieve
sufficient grades to enter university. Severely influenced by a demonstrative mother, he selected
what was then perceived as the easiest degree course to undertake, and then proceeded to fail
Geology One. He repeated the year, managing to scrape through under the guidance of an overly
doting tutor, then went on to complete the course, graduating without any significant degree of
achievement.

Baird's foray into the Indonesian mining arena had been by
accident. Once he had graduated from university and bowed to family pressure by acquiring a wife,
his ensuing, colorless life had left him directionless, and unmotivated. Early into his marriage
he had become addicted to alcohol, the resulting divorce not entirely linked to his incapacity to
maintain his role in the marital bed, but more his growing adoration for the father figure who
had given him his first job, as a geologist. From the outset, Eric Baird strove to emulate the
Fine Gold Search NL company chairman, the effort keeping him in near poverty as he shopped for
wristwatches, cufflinks and other jewelry, acquiring duplicates of those worn by his mentor. As
gold was considered fashionable at the time, Baird discarded his silver Seiko and purchased an
Omega, identical to that worn by the chairman. Months later, when the chairman strolled into the
office sporting a new, platinum Cartier wristwatch, having forgone his customary gold
accoutrements, Baird went out immediately and purchased the same make and model, throwing himself
into even greater debt than before.

Although the company secretaries sniggered at the young
geologist's ways, his capacity to produce results out in the field gained him considerable
respect with management. He became the company's golden boy, selected to go overseas with the
Sydney-based mining group – rewarding their decision by returning a most professional and
positive survey for their Malaysian concession areas. Baird had moved over to Sarawak to take up
the post of senior geologist, taking with him the chairman's undying support.

It had been Baird's glowing submission that had served to
punch the company's stock up noticeably, permitting the Board to raise sufficient capital to
maintain their high-flying lifestyles as mining entrepreneurs. It was through this corporate
relationship that he had first met Alex Kremenchug, whose meteoric rise to Fine Gold Search NL's
board had not only raised eyebrows amongst Sydney's mining elite, but also provided corporate
rumormongers with sufficient gossip material for them to dine off for weeks. As Kremenchug
continued to consolidate his position within the gold mining company's corporate structure, his
influence over operational decisions precipitated management changes, and Eric Baird's
most-favored position as senior geologist came under threat.

In time, Baird learned how to deal with Kremenchug whose
penchant for expensive acquisitions and a good time at shareholder's expense, ultimately resulted
in his resignation from the Fine Gold Search NL Board. A company secretary overheard the heated
argument when Kremenchug was ordered to step down for inappropriately disposing of shares without
advising the relevant authorities at the Sydney Stock Exchange. Weeks later, Kremenchug had
appeared in Jakarta, relegated to the lesser position of company representative. Since then,
their relationship had grown only as a result of their interdependency, with Kremenchug
consistently dragging potential investors into the country, while Baird's role was to provide
supporting evidence that the mineral prospects Kremenchug touted around were viable prospects of
considerable potential.

Now, after so many years treading the jungles being bitten
by ticks, mites and having his blood sucked by leeches, he found himself desperately in debt. He
had been counting on the BGC shares to buy a small house in the mountains outside Jakarta, a
place he and Mardidi could call their own. Of course, Baird accepted that ownership would have to
be in Mardidi's name, as Indonesia Law did not permit foreign ownership outside a very limited
number of condominiums. His mind turned to his companion, and Mardidi's incessant requests for
more money to be sent home to his
kampung,
back in Java. Apparently, there had been
another death in the family. It seemed to Baird that Mardidi's clan had lost so many uncles,
aunts, cousins and other family members over recent years, there would be few relatives left.
Baird was convinced that he had covered the costs of funerals for the same identities on more
than one occasion and, as he lay there with this thought annoyingly amongst his wanderings, he
was reminded of the expatriate driller's death just days before.

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