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Authors: Kerry B. Collison

Tags: #Fiction

Indonesian Gold (44 page)

BOOK: Indonesian Gold
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When the Vancouver office radioed Baird the following week
and advised Sharon's revised, arrival details, he loaded the latest samples and returned to
Samarinda, forwarding these to the laboratory on the morning Sharon stepped off the Garuda
flight. As instructed, he had arranged for a chopper to be standing by at the airport to
transport them directly to the site and, once airborne, he had briefed Sharon with respect to the
operational status of the rigs. Baird was perplexed by the Chief Geologist's tirade when he
revealed that two batches of samples had already been dispatched for analysis, bewildered by
Sharon's anger that drilling had commenced without her instructions.

****

Following the disappointing test results from these two
batches Sharon had taken Baird aside and spoken in confidence. She knew, that to return to the
practice of spiking samples after two consecutive samplings had indicated that the reserves may
just not be there, would be to attract suspicion. Instead, although this would mean more expense
and a considerable delay, Sharon decided on an elaborate deviation from her original plan, opting
to move the drilling program to another site. She was aware that Baird held a substantial number
of shares in BGC, Kremenchug having explained this when she discovered their names in the
company's share registry. Confident that her assistant would not wish to see the value of his
holdings depreciate as before, she invited him to her quarters to discuss the recent
results.

‘The way I see it, Eric, we have two choices here.' Sharon
could see that Baird was pleased she had sought his opinion. ‘One, we go back and re-drill that
last line which failed to support our earlier findings, which could be disastrous if the results
are the same or, two, we could decide to move on to other prospective areas and hope that these
prove up to expectations, leaving this site on hold. BGC could simply announce that it wishes to
prove up a number of other attractive sites as part of the overall drilling program.'

Baird tapped the geological wall chart reflecting work
completed on the site. ‘Why don't we run a series of holes out in this direction while we're
still here?'

Sharon
could not reveal that
she had spiked samples with incremental increases on a path leading away from where Baird
pointed. She knew what he said made economic sense in terms of logistics, but to do so would
still be wildcat drilling, and Sharon refused, as she was now impatient to re-establish credible
results – and this meant relocating to another site. ‘Eric, how many shares do you have in BGC?'
she asked, the question taking Baird by surprise.

‘I picked up a few when they first moved into Indonesia,'
he replied, cautiously, but Sharon already knew the number.

‘What do you think they would be worth if the market
thought that Longdamai was not up to expectations?'

Sharon
suspected that Baird
would have agonized over this since she showed him the disappointing results, only days before.
At the time, she had isolated access to the radio and given Baird explicit instructions not to
reveal the results to anyone else on site. She did not need Baird dumping shares, as word would
undoubtedly spread.

‘Guess the bottom would fall out of the market,' he
mumbled, despondently.

‘Yes, and if we did drill over there,' she indicated to
the wall diagrams, ‘and found nothing, that would be the end to this site.

Wouldn't it?'

Baird nodded, wondering where she was going with
this.

‘Besides,' Sharon continued, confident that Baird's
potential losses would encourage his support, ‘we would not be misleading anyone. We will return
to this site and complete the drilling, once work has been carried out on other locations. As a
matter of fact, Eric,' she said, convincingly, ‘I almost opted for an alternative site before
choosing where we are today. The choice came down to which required the least logistical
support.'

‘What about the recent results?' Baird had
asked.

Sharon
's response was that of
co-conspirator. ‘What do you say if we just sit on those for the time being? You see, Eric,' she
rose in weary manner, her shoulders slumped, ‘I took a reduced fee for the work that's been done
to date, Dominion Mining's arrangement was that I would receive a success fee for last year's
results. Now they have become part of a revamped BGC, I agreed to accept a small allocation of
shares in the restructured company, and these won't be free of escrow until next
year.'

‘And if the last test results were known?'

‘Well, BGC's shares would fall drastically, I'd dare say
and,' she added, heaving a sigh for greater effect, ‘by the time my shares came out of escrow,
they would most likely be back where BGC's shares were, before the restructuring.' Sharon knew
from Baird's sympathetic look, that he was hooked.

‘But, if we relocated and continued with the drilling
program, you would be able to offload your position before returning to re-drill this
site?'

‘Precisely,' she confirmed, then prompting Baird with this
reminder. ‘And then there's your own shares to consider.'

The next morning Sharon Ducay ordered the camp's
demobilization, unprepared for the difficulties they would face in relocating to the site she had
selected. The rigs were dismantled in preparation for the heli-lift, Sharon utilizing the
helicopter's presence to fly upriver to the new destination, reconnoitering the area to determine
where best to establish camp. During their first run over the potential site, Sharon asked the
JetRanger pilot if he could take them down closer to the ground, where head-high grass not fifty
meters from the Mahakam's banks, lay in green and yellow splendor, a mask covering the Dayak
sacred ground. In the course of the aerial survey, Dayak
hampatong
statues
,
unseen
from the air, were destroyed by the helicopter's landing skids, the centuries-old pair of
human-like sculptures ironically decapitated as the pilot performed a pirouette, providing a 360
degree view of the proposed site.

Within the week, a small flotilla of longboats arrived at
the site, the Modang laborers working desperately to complete the unloading and depart, whilst
there was still light. And before the sun disappeared over the Kapuas Range, Bukit
Batubrok'
s
dominating shadow enveloped the Upper Mahakam River reaches, the drilling rig's
metal bodies stood amazingly like gigantic, petrified grasshoppers in the subdued, gray light.
Sharon looked around the maze of unpacked equipment and stores, cursing the Modang laborers in
Tagalog
for having abandoned them – the two expatriate drillers, along with Baird and
Mardidi, the only other inhabitants of this site.

****

With darkness descending upon the small group and their
hurriedly erected tents, a lone figure stood between wild sago-palms, fierce eyes tracking Baird
as the unsuspecting geologist stepped closer to the camp fire. In Jonathan Dau's world, all five
had desecrated
Penehing-Dayak
sacred soil – and, in consequence, all five could not go
unpunished. Like a man possessed, Jonathan Dau raised his head and roared into the night, his
blood-curdling cry an oath to ancestral spirits, a promise that he would rectify his error in not
having taken the white man's life those years before, when the opportunity first
availed.

****

Eric Baird rubbed gritty eyes, yawned with the
tranquillizer's continuing effects, looked over at the adjacent sleeping bag and gently shook the
sleeping form, awake.

‘Get me some coffee,'
he told Mardidi, who unquestioningly sprang to his feet, tied a sarong around his narrow
waist, and left Baird alone in the tent, fumbling around, half-awake, searching bundled clothing
for cigarettes. He placed one between his lips, remembered there was no lighter, his hand
searching again until he realized that this was not his tent.

Massaging throbbing temples, Baird scratched his thighs,
yawned again, and was about to lie back in wait for the coffee when he suddenly sat bolt upright,
reminded of where he was. Trembling, he cocked an ear listening for signs that the others had
risen, overwhelmed by the possibility that they may have been taken during the night. Then, when
he heard the familiar voices of the drillers, Alderson and Patrick, he scrambled outside,
climbing into heavy-duty trousers as he went. Naked from the waist up, Baird avoided Calvin
Alderson's eyes when he realized how foolish he might have looked, reaching back inside the
two-man tent for the rest of his clothing. At that moment, Sharon Ducay appeared, nodding to the
three men as she approached.

‘I've recalled the chopper,' she announced, addressing
Baird. ‘I'll stay here with Alderson and Patrick while you to fly to Samarinda and do whatever is
necessary to get half a dozen armed soldiers back here, today.'

Baird shook his head. ‘I might be able to persuade the
military to give us security, but they sure as hell won't get their hands dirty. Who's going to
fix all of this?' he waved an arm in the direction of the disorderly array of boxes and
unassembled rigs.

‘Then what do you suggest?' Sharon asked, agitated that
her project was in jeopardy.

Baird observed Mardidi returning from the river's edge,
where he had washed the previous evening's used utensils. The young man set about preparing
coffee for all, deliberately subservient to everyone present as he filled tin mugs and offered
canned biscuits around. ‘Well, it's obvious from what happened that the
Modang
people
won't work here.' Baird scratched again, opening a partially healed wound on his neck. ‘If you
were counting on the local villagers for their support, I'd forget that. The fact that they have
not shown their faces is not an encouraging sign.'

‘Could we send Mardidi out to talk to them?'

Mardidi overheard the conversation, spilling coffee over
himself at the suggestion.

‘He would be the last one to send,' Baird advised. ‘No,
Sharon, I'm sorry to say, we have a real problem here. You might recall, I did warn you about
this area.'

Sharon
's face clouded. At the
time, she had not taken Baird's opposition to her choice of sites seriously, her eyes
unconsciously lifting to the nearby forest, uncomfortable with the thought that they were being
observed. ‘Can't we ask anyone for help?' Sharon's confidence was eroding quickly, the
possibility that they might have to leave the site and all this equipment, unguarded.

‘How long since you spoke to the charter company?' Baird
asked.

Sharon
checked the time. ‘Less
than fifteen minutes,' she said.

‘Why not get back on the blower and ask if they can bring
half a dozen men with them now, then I'll go back and arrange for soldiers to join them later in
the day?'

‘That's still not going to solve our problem,' Sharon
complained. ‘What we need here is a large labor force.' She stared at Baird. ‘Without some real
numbers, this project will fail.' She turned on her heel. ‘First priority is to get hold of the
pilot before he takes off. I'll do that now.'

Eric Baird clearly understood the inference behind
Sharon's statement. Had it not been for the recent ethnic clashes further downstream he would
have suggested visiting the Pamekasan Baru villages but, since the clash between Madurese and
Dayaks, most of the migrants had fled. Baird knew that without the support of local villagers,
the only remaining source for labor was with migrants.
But, the question was, where would he
find these?

Over the next hour Baird came to the conclusion that he
would be best seeking the assistance of his Jakarta ally, and now uncle-inlaw. He pondered how to
approach Subroto, deciding that he would first speak to him from Samarinda when he flew downriver
that day, then proceed to Jakarta if the Governor was unable to resolve their dilemma. When
Sharon returned and signaled with raised thumb that help was on the way, he discussed proceeding
onto Jakarta, and she agreed. Just after midday, Baird boarded the JetRanger, leaving a
disconsolate Mardidi behind to cook for the others.

Baird spent three fruitless days in Samarinda, attempting
to raise a labor force, those initially interested, declining once the destination was revealed.
But, he did manage to organize interim security for the operations. The Governor contacted the
local military commander who, for a fee, loaned five of his armed troopers to be stationed at
Longdamai Sial
for a period of two weeks. Baird relayed this message, organized for the
JetRanger to transport the soldiers to the site, then flew to Jakarta to seek his erstwhile
partner's intervention.

****

Jakata
Indonesian Defence Headquarters
(HANKAM
)

Deep, maroon curtains hung listlessly covering an
insulated, concrete wall behind an oversized, carved Javanese teak desk to create the illusion
that a window lay hidden behind, the backdrop reminiscent of some miniature vaudeville stage. The
Indonesian flag,
Sang Merah Putih
held prominent place alongside a hand-embroidered,
suede-backed canvas, army
Siliwangi
Division banner – the tiger-face, emblem memento a
constant reminder of the tenant's former command. Matching trophy cabinets stood prominently
along one wall, the impressive array of highly polished plaques, shields, crystal and silver
cups, reflecting the owner's golfing prowess, under a gracious handicap.

BOOK: Indonesian Gold
6.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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