Vanishing Point (19 page)

‘Yeah, that's us.' Even though on contract and not an employee Petri tended to think of himself as so much a part of Spex that he used ‘us' when referring to the work he did with the company. ‘The idea is to pump down a cyanide-based solution in one area, let it soak down through the channel, dissolve any gold present, then pump it up further downstream and precipitate out the dissolved gold!'

‘Isn't that environmentally dangerous, though?' asked Shelley. ‘I mean cyanide is pretty poisonous. Won't it affect the ground water and poison it?'

‘That's not really a problem in that area. Firstly, the ground water is so salty that it can't be used for any purpose, irrigation or stock. It is thousands of times more salty than sea water and not just salt as in sodium chloride but all sorts of other salts like magnesium and potassium —'

‘Now, don't get too technical for me,' interrupted Shelley with a smile.

‘Okay. I was just going to say … now what was I going to say?' Shelley's smile was disarming and Petri momentarily lost the thread of his explanation. ‘Oh, yes. I was going to add that once the pregnant liquor is pumped up to the surface, the gold dissolved in the cyanide solution can be recovered and the cyanide solution recycled.'

Shelly tilted her head to the side.

Petri explained. ‘The pregnant liquor is the solution containing all the dissolved gold. The cyanide solution that isn't recycled, because there is always some minor wastage, doesn't last long anyway.

‘Why not?'

‘Because once it's exposed to sun and air it's not very stable and breaks down into water and gases. You know, like carbon dioxide and nitrogen. They're found in the atmosphere anyway.'

‘So, what are you doing here? I mean, why not do all this research at UWA?' asked Alec.

‘Oh! WA Uni is okay for basics, but really it is because of your Dr Fleming. You must know him?'

‘Of course, I know Peter. Good bloke. Really good teacher. Great with students.'

Petri nodded. ‘Well, I'm planning a sampling program and Peter has been doing a lot of research on the flow regimes of the Tertiary river channels. I want to be able to carry out some sampling to check out the best areas for starting my exploration. The visible flow patterns shown by the lakes are not all there is to it. Some old river channels are now completely covered by sand and we need to find which are most likely to have maximum gold concentrations. That's where Peter's work fits in.'

The three chatted on, leaving the geological subjects and talking about the events of the time. Vietnam and the growing opposition to the war featured prominently in their discussions, as did the question of the morality of the Wallaby tour of South Africa. It was clear that the two men shared similar interests, although they disagreed on some issues.

Shelley tried to argue that sport and politics should not be confused and tried to defend the proposed rugby tour by the South Africans for 1971 but both men turned on her, strongly disagreeing. In spite of this she held her ground and kept her opinions. It was clear that Shelley was a spirited young woman.

Her attractive features caused male students walking past to take a second look. She sported shoulder length light brown hair, unstyled and framing an oval face, with a pert, symmetrical nose and hazel eyes. She dressed in the casual style of the day and wore a white blouse decorated with embroidered, colourful flowers around the neckline, a ruffly, mid-length skirt and strapped sandals.

‘Say, would you like to join us for tea tonight?' Shelley's question to Petri was so direct and unexpected that it was obvious she had not been listening but had been engrossed in her own thoughts.

‘Sure, if that's all right with you folk. I've nothing planned. I don't know many people over here. I was just going back to my hotel and perhaps watch a bit of television or read. I'd love to join you, but don't want to be in the way.'

‘No, of course you won't. You're more than welcome.'

Alec added his affirmation, ‘Of course. It would be great to have you along.'

‘Alec and I are going to a restaurant in Lygon Street. That's in the city. Where are you staying? Perhaps we could share a taxi.'

‘No, I have a hire car so let me pick you up.'

‘Great idea,' Alec said. ‘And thanks. I'll leave my bike in the department. The walk between the station and the University tomorrow will do me good.'

* * *

The shared meal proved to be the start of new and happy friendship between the three. Petri, Alec and Shelley found themselves together every time that Petri came over from Perth. Even when he felt he had little more to garner from the University or Dr Fleming, Petri found reasons to visit. The friendship grew in strength through common interests in geology and music. The three loved to argue and debate. The social and political changes affecting Australia and the world were ideal for debate. They argued late into the night on subjects such as the war in Vietnam, the women's liberation movement, hippies and all those that heralded major changes in western society.

About a year after their first meeting the three were sipping coffee after attending a concert in the city. As was common when they were together conversation became debate. It started with arguments for the justification for war.

Petri told them, ‘I'm a pacifist. War just creates misery. It is the most extreme form of violence and violence solves nothing in the long run.'

‘Surely there are some times when war is justified,' argued Shelley. ‘I'm against violence but you have to make a stand sometime, I mean, just think where we'd be if no-one stood up to Hitler. How could you remain a pacifist under those circumstances?'

Petri tried to explain. ‘During most of the war my father was in Scotland. He was a cryptographic expert and worked for the British Army as an adviser and code-breaker. He was fluent in Russian, English, German and Finnish.'

‘How come he was in code breaking?'

‘Cryptography was a hobby. It developed out of his skills as a mathematics lecturer at the University in Helsinki.'

‘So he was involved in the war, even if indirectly,' said Shelley.

‘Yes, but not directly in the violence and mass killing. My father strongly opposed the Finnish alliance with Germany. Remember, as a child he lived through the Finnish civil war in 1918 and that framed his attitude to war and violence.'

‘I suppose exposure to war and battles would be traumatic.'

‘It wasn't just battles. The civil war killed more people through terrorism and prison camps, massacres and atrocities. It was horrible and hardened attitudes between the left and right factions. All this killing made him a pacifist and I learnt from him.'

‘But he got involved in the war for the British Army. Why not the Finnish?'

‘I guess the defeat of the Reds in 1919 rankled with the communists so Stalin took the opportunity to invade Finland in 1939, the ‘Winter War'. They bombed Helsinki.'

‘I suppose that would be enough to make anyone opposed to war and battles. But wouldn't that unite Finns against the invaders?'

‘You'd think so. Instead it almost reignited the civil war. Even though Russia invaded a neutral country at the time, he could not see how supporting Hitler helped the Finns. Anyone wavering could be thought to be supporting the invaders.'

‘It must have been a very difficult time for him.'

‘And all Finns. Although the Finns fought heroically, they could not withstand the might of the Russians. Severe peace terms were imposed, including the loss of much Finnish land. My father was opposed to any alliance with the Nazis. He disliked their policies and belligerence. He believed supporting them would just lead to more Finns being killed or maimed. At the university where he taught his was not popular, nor was his vocal opinion. I mean, you can see the problem. Finland was caught between occupied Norway, belligerent Russia and untrustworthy Germany.'

‘So what happened?'

‘In 1941, soon after Petsomo was bombed by the British, killing even more Finns, he secretly crossed the Baltic to Stockholm in an old fishing boat. There friends with links to British Intelligence contacted him. They persuaded him that assisting the Allies could end the war sooner. They helped get him to London where he was made very welcome in the cryptographic services of the British Army.'

‘Quite an adventure.'

‘Yes. So you see why I believe there are ways other than violence to solve problems!'

‘Is your father still alive?'

‘No. He met my mum in Glasgow, got married and had me within a year. When I was six we migrated to Australia and settled in Perth. They both died in a motor accident about five years ago.'

‘I'm so sorry. I didn't know,' Shelley said, patting his arm.

‘Yes, I'm sorry, Petri. I know how hard it is to lose people you love,' Alec echoed. At least you know what happened and when.

‘Anyway,' Petri continued, ‘Dad never forgot his homeland and throughout my childhood the music of Sibelius echoed through the house. From Sibelius and Finlandia I grew to like other classical music. So, talking of which, what did you think of the concert tonight?'

The conversation had been deftly changed.

E
ach time Karl visited he became more enamoured with Katherine. It was the longest time he had spent close to a woman and a beautiful one at that. As his lust grew so did his frustration. The problem was crazy Benjamin. He could not afford to cross Benjamin; he was so dependent upon him. His most precious possessions were in Benjamin's name. Inside his utility, neatly hooked behind the seats, was his pride and joy, his Lee Enfield number one, Mark III rifle. It was old but, fitted with telescopic sights, it was ideal for shooting kangaroos, dingoes and even pigs. A .303 bullet shot out at a velocity of almost half a mile per second. But, like the Toyota, it was registered in Benjamin's name. Even the radio's call sign was not his own. He could not afford to get any licences for fear that the police might track him down. In anything official he dared not use Karl's name and details because he was dead. He had to remain anonymous, a non-person. Perhaps he could work on Benjamin's strange religious beliefs and so-called visions so he'd get access to Katherine.

He'd spent the past month away shooting vermin on a station in the north. Now Karl he was on the way to deliver some supplies to Benjamin, all the time thinking of how to resolve his problem: the woman.

The heat was unbearable. By midday even the hardy eucalypt mallee shrubs were wilting as waves of still air simmered above the baking red sand. From the veranda the perimeter fence appeared to move and bend like some exotic dancer. Silence surrounded the buildings.

Both Benjamin and Katherine sat in the shade of the veranda while Carolyn played at their feet. Apart from her bright pink cheeks she seemed oblivious to the heat. Benjamin wore only his shorts and, overcome by lethargy, sat staring into space. Katherine was dressed in one of her remaining short skirts, which was now slightly too large for her but better than nothing. On her lap was her shirt which she was repairing, again.

‘We really need new clothes. These are finished. I can't see how I can fix this shirt again.' She held it up for Benjamin to see the thin cotton and the patches. ‘I've got only what was in my case: they're so old everything is falling apart.'

‘Yeah, reckon ya right.'

‘And Carolyn needs clothes too. She can't just run around naked all day, like this. She gets burned. And what about when winter comes? And she's growing —'

‘Yeah. Okay. Okay. Write down what ya want an' I'll get it. I'm goin' south next week. Gotta take some hives down.'

In the early days Katherine wondered how it was that bees were successful out in the desert where the floral displays were so spectacular but erratic and short lived. She later discovered that Benjamin regularly moved the hives, sometimes great distances, to follow the blossom or for pollination of crops.

Benjamin continued. ‘Karl's gunna be here today an' he'll look after ya when I'm gorn.'

This news drew very mixed feelings from Katherine. She'd hoped she'd be able to persuade Benjamin to let her travel with him on his next trip rather than being left alone for weeks. For ages she'd tried to behave as quietly and unobtrusively as possible to achieve this, even absorbing the strain of being friendly towards her captor, hoping to convince Benjamin that all thought of escape was forgotten. She now knew her efforts obviously failed. The idea that Karl would be there with her was disturbing. She did not relish the thought of being alone at the Factory with him. She did not trust him. In the past when he visited his behaviour in front of Benjamin was exemplary but, when Benjamin was out of sight, he made kissing faces at Katherine and, on one occasion, even put a hand on her bottom and breast.