They’d gone out to the parking lot to find her car standing on its four rims. She’d had to borrow a car for four days while new special-order tires were brought up from Cape Town.
Frustratingly, the CCTV footage was mysteriously unavailable. It took more effort than she had time available to put into pursuing a follow up.
Fortunately, the owners of the other two cars who’d engaged them in discussion after the event—people who were openly supportive of their opinions—were fighting vigorously to uncover the perpetrators of the violation to their own vehicles. The police were being cooperative but hitting headwind.
“What else have they got left?” Al asserted. “They lost the argument; bombastic attitudes and intimidation is their last bastion. It’s how they got to dominate in the first place, through fear, threat, torture. Those old habits die hard. Ostracization doesn’t work anymore.”
“Oh, before I forget,” Marsha said, suddenly changed course, “JJ called and is coming directly over with some ‘very surprising’ updates. Says he may have to fly out on short notice. Whatever it is, he says it can’t wait.”
Sonja briefly smiled at the mention of her brother. She’d been predictably glum under the circumstances, from the shock and the funeral.
JJ and Sonja had stayed over with Marsha at the compound for several nights since flying in. Neither of them felt comfortable staying in the family house where their father had so recently died. The compound was bright and new, and held more distraction with the cosmopolitan mix of foreigners and families, than all the reminders of their sudden and shocking loss that staying with friends in the region would trigger. They’d opted against staying at a guesthouse, which, in the small town, amounted to the same thing as staying with friends.
This decision to live with the outsiders had set tongues to wagging across the village and beyond. And, some of what was being whispered was true. Sonja and Dara had formed a warm bond. It was fuel to skandaal.
Johanna, their mother, was staying with Andre’s mother, helping the devastated old lady cope with the loss of her son. Much as she wished to be with her mother in this trying period, the aged grandmother’s cottage was too dark, cluttered and depressing for Sonja to contemplate.
JJ arrived a few minutes later and filled them all in on what he had just learned from Bruce, the pilot.
“Is this confidential?” Marsha wanted to know.
“He really didn’t want to tell me, agonized over it. I could see him trying to hold back, but eventually, well, I guess it’s been eating at him. He said he had to tell someone.” JJ grimaced. “It’s a bit of a burden now though. I don’t want to compromise him or betray his confidence, but this is a crossroads. Let me start with my personal feelings. What I don’t want are the real lunatics getting a hold here in this country or my town. Their goofy ideas are very infectious, particularly to the youth. But I think the shakeup from what Broad and that Andy Selbourne are up to will be good for the old guard; they’ve had their way so long they think they’re invincible.”
“I knew there was more to it than met the eye,” Al crowed gleefully. “Marsha… I told you! I’ve just been telling her.” He turned to JJ. “I foresaw this.”
“He’s been having a lot of psychic insights today,” Marsha teased.
“It’s not psychic, my darling. This conservative old Calvinist church is a little like the Church of England—it’s fat and happy and doesn’t go looking for a fight. From the moment I heard there was trouble here I could smell the whiff of the evangelic big-business churches. It’s their style.”
“You two can squabble about that later. I’ve got more pressing news, and it turns everything we’re thinking on its head. It’s the real interesting part of what I learned from the pilot… let’s call it a speculation at this stage,” JJ said. “The German withdrawal of funds and support for the SKA project—Bruce tells me it’s his man, Broad, and his people behind it.”
“Reeeally?” Al’s voice sang with intrigue and triumph at the claim.
“Now, come on... that’s nonsense!” Marsha retorted.
Al gave her a smug ‘I told you so’ expression of victory.
“No, there’s just no way. Impossible!” Marsha said categorically. “Their withdrawal was for financial circumstances. Al’s going to argue it was all some hidden hand.”
“Officially?” Al quizzed, “Financial issues are the official stance, Marsha?”
“Yes,” Marsha replied. “Now I know you’re going to immediately discredit official statements, but I mean, how…? How and why would an American evangelist have influence to get Germany out? That makes no sense.”
“It does if you know how deeply he is entrenched in oil…” JJ left the unmentioned accusation hang there, and it even caught Al by surprise, but Marsha beat him to the question.
“Oil? What’s that got to do with the SKA? It’s a bit of a leap,” she challenged.
“Okay, not literally oil, but fracking?” JJ posed it as a thesis in a single word, in a question. In truth, it was a statement. “You do know that the big oil companies are circling like sharks, wanting to get into production in the Karoo, in this region.”
“Uh-huh!” There was a hint of triumph in Al’s exclamation.
“They’re building the SKA here, also in the Karoo, and?” JJ begged somebody to finish the sentence.
“And you’re saying that powerful interests wanting to frack for natural gas don’t want the SKA getting in the way of their operations?” Al volunteered.
“You’re saying that fracking will put a spoke in the wheel of the SKA?” skepticism fleeing from her face ahead of real concern.
“Fracking requires construction, infrastructure, communications and disruptions that are fundamentally at odds with the SKA’s needs,” JJ posed. “You can’t put them side-by-side. One must go; that’s what’s at stake. They could still pull the plug here and curtail the project.”
“They’ll never allow that,” Marsha asserted.
“Germany just backed out, America never came in,” JJ challenged. “And I’m curious why key figures in government are buying up huge tracts of otherwise worthless land?”
“It makes sense, Marsha,” Al added. “Science will always come second to profit.”
“Spell out what you’re claiming,” Marsha came to the point.
“I’m not claiming. I’m not claiming anything… yet. I’m repeating what was suggested to me, and I’m guessing we should be circumspect in repeating it, but it is something to keep track of. This Broad character evidently whispered in the right ears in Germany so that the politicians down here are probably on the make and will push legislation to allow fracking to happen, no matter what. That, in turn, is going to put the SKA in jeopardy. With a flea in their ear, the Germans are stepping back. They’re not saying they’re out, they’ve just cut funding, and everyone has put a brave face on saying it doesn’t really matter. But with them gone, who is left?”
“Australia, Canada, China, India, Italy, New Zealand, South Africa, Sweden, the Netherlands, and of course, the United Kingdom,” Marsha listed.
“And the USA?” JJ challenged. “You’d expect them in that list, right? Maybe France, maybe Russia or Japan? All the big ones; but they’re absent.”
“Your Bruce says that this Broad and his merry men got to them?” Al asked.
“He only mentioned the US consortium. I think we can take it that he had the kind of influence there to sow doubt and keep them from ever getting fully involved.”
“It just sounds so fantastically conspiratorial,” Marsha didn’t want to believe it.
“It does, I agree. But I mean, all of the wealthiest countries are citing lack of funds to participate. In this, the greatest scientific cosmological implementation in history? Come on… Does it make sense to you? I battle to make sense of it. The US spends more on sweets for a single Halloween night than the whole SKA will cost over ten years to build and run. I know that’s a simplification, but it does prov
ide a different perspective to think about. Over the decade you build this machine, with its untold spin-off benefits for commerce and wellbeing, the investment into ten nights of chocolate binges and tooth decay in one single country could pay for ten of these initiatives. It’s just ludicrous.”
“Okay, fine, I just don’t see that happening.”
“Marsha,” Al stepped in. “You’re approaching it from the point of view that the SKA has to happen; in your mind it’s too fantastic not to. But business and politics come at it from the other direction—they want immediacy. If there is profit under the ground, then whatever you want to build on top of it will have to wait until it can be exploited.”
“Have you not followed the media on this? There are laws to stop the two coming into contact.” Marsha played her ace.
“And, of course, big oil always fastidiously obeys the laws,” Al retorted.
“There are going to be buffer zones around the astronomy facilities. And, wise guy, the 2007 Astronomy Geographic Advantage Act for protection; go look it up.”
“I’m sure aaaaall the assurances are there as they always are, but oilmen have delivered countries into war for less. Just wait till they find the mother lode where you want your radio silence.” Al was relentless. “We’ll see an amendment to your 2007 Act pretty quick.”
On impulse, cornered, Marsha stuck her tongue out at him.
“You know what happens to naughty girls who do that,” Al rubbed his hands gleefully.
“You two can get a room, and there are kids here. Seriously, this is pretty heavy,” JJ pointed out.
“He’s just so irritating sometimes,” Marsha admitted. “And I don’t really have the coping skills to deal with this. I studied astrophysics for God’s sake, precisely because I didn’t want to deal with all the bull of humans and their political manoeuvring.”
“And yes, I’ve read media reports on this issue with all the assurances, and one thing strikes me—it’s always the SKA spokesman saying things like, ‘we’re continually mindful that there might be instances where we will collide’ and ‘we will seek to co-exist peacefully with the frackers’. All very hat-in-hand. I’m yet to hear a statement from the other side, not that I’d have faith in it if I did.”
“So, you’re telling me that at this late stage these guys are still hopeful of stopping the project to get at the natural gas in this region?” she asked.
“I’m telling you that politicians play to their bank balance first and only. To get support, they simply tell the public that if they don’t immediately allow the natural resources to be tapped, fuel will double in cost and the currency will halve in value,” Al stated. “You and I get it that this is a short-sighted view; we understand that to permanently get away from fossil fuels we need a breakthrough. Like figuring out anti-gravity technologies, and that we’ll only achieve this by digging into the fundamentals of cosmology and particle physics through the SKA and CERN. But the general public isn’t sophisticated enough to make that leap, and the average voter in the street, battling on with their mundane and difficult lives, carry the votes.”
They were silent a moment, absorbing the thought.
“Bruce is claiming that by getting Germany—and before that the States—out of the project, the project stumbles and the headwind disappears for him and his cronies to get their hands on the gas reserves,” JJ summarized.
“That’s what it sounds like.”
“If you’re a cynic,” Marsha added.
“As a businessman, it’s actually a master stroke,” JJ said, changing the spin on the matter. “What he’s done is use a smoke screen to get his way. He got the old pastor to do his bidding, to keep it secret from his superiors and set himself up for failure when the news breaks and the church fathers come down on him. When they do, his man with the new Evangelic church sweeps in and cleans up so that he has a beachhead in the region. He can easily launder money through his own church to keep opposition to the SKA going, while he secretly cosies up to politicians and they survey the ground together for oil explorations. Brilliant!”
“It’s also speculation,” Marsha added.
“That it is,” JJ admitted. “I’m not telling you this is even what I believe yet; I’m still brainstorming to test if it’s feasible. That the local church is getting shafted is now clear and obvious to me. That the oilman posing as a religious leader is up to his neck in it—and probably instigated it—also seems pretty clear.” He hesitated a moment, weighing the ethics of disclosing more. “I’ve been going through that video recording of the meeting with the inner circle of the local church. They’re trying to mount a land claim using the Bushmen as a front.”
“Oh, come on?!” Marsha was aghast. “That is ridiculous.”
“It seems like it; I have the video and their plans are advanced. I’ve been out to see the old clan leader and he confirms that they’re in discussions.”
“Dawie’s grandfather?” Dara ventured. The two youngsters had been silent and almost forgotten by the adults. “Dawie told me the lawyers were out there two days ago.”
“Why didn’t you mention it?” Al challenged.
“I didn’t know what it was about. Dawie got out of there when they arrived, he thought that it may be to do with him.”
“Poor bloody kid,” Marsha said. “I think he could do with some help, some post-traumatic therapy. He’s been forgotten with all that’s gone on.”
“I’ll see to it,” JJ assured. “I’m in contact with him and helping where I can. I think he’d do better out of this town. His grandfather agrees.”
“And his parents?”
“They’re, well… they’re not really parents to him. Alcohol.”
“Shame. I had no idea.”
“It’s a plague.”
“And his friends?”
“I'm his friend,” Dara volunteered, and the adults smiled at him.
“It’s complicated, Dara,” Marsha pointed out. “Even if it’s not ideal, but impoverished, he’s got a community here.”
“He says he wants to go.” Dara made it sound so simple.
“He does,” JJ confirmed. “I’ve talked with him and chatted with Karel, the grandfather. Even Fiske at the school says he’s not a fit here and has too much potential; could lose a year and still be better off.”
“Well?” Alok posed after the long pause as they each contemplated it.
“Well, it’s something to explore,” JJ suggested.
“We’ve veered a bit off track with so many topics on the table,” Marsha added, taming the conversation. “The land claim—what’s that about?”
“I also heard them talking about it,” Sonja ventured—the first meaningful participation in open conversation she’d offered since the shock of her father’s death. Glances about the room told the story of relief that she was emerging from her dungeon of grief.
Not wanting to make too much of this sign of recovery, JJ went smoothly on as if there had been no concern for his sister’s wellbeing all along;
“I’m using land claim too loosely—technically, it’s a cultural heritage claim. The townsfolk—the Dominee and his cronies—are trying to find a way to keep the land ownership but manipulate the indigenous Bushmen who work for them as laborers to have it declared out of bounds for any development that might interfere with their traditions and ancestor grounds.”
“Could that fly?” First the speculation about fossil fuel prospecting and now this prospect of heritage rights slammed Marsha from the opposite direction. She was seeing the hopes of her life’s work circling the drain in a game she was ill equipped to play.
“If they get money behind it for a legal battle, they could probably put a moratorium on construction for a while and maybe stir up trouble through the unions of workers who’ll build it. It depends on how big the claim is and how deep pockets go,” JJ speculated. “It would not be as catastrophic to the project in its entirety as Dominee imagines it might be. Then again, their concerns are only
for the local territory anyway. They just got riled up about it being in their back yard.”
“But such a land claim does fly in the face of the fracking theory you’ve proposed,” Marsha challenged.
“It does, it absolutely does.” JJ agreed. “And I’ll wager that the local guys who don’t understand the game here are doing it as renegades—without the Americans knowing about it. They think they’ve hit on a foolproof way to come out winning. What happens next will tell us how close our speculations are to the truth.”
“And why would the heritage claim stop the SKA but not stop the fracking?” Sonja took another step toward proving her recovery was happening before their eyes.
“Unfortunately,” Al stepped in, “I’ve seen this kind of thing happen the world over; it’s called realpolitik. The reality, even in a democracy like this, is that money talks louder than any rights or sentiments. If your brother is right, you won’t hear another word about this heritage claim if it is going to get in the way of big oil and politicians. It will all just go silent.”
“So, do we tell them?” Marsha asked. “The preacher… Gert?” She pronounced the Dominee’s name badly. “Do you take it to him? Suggest he’s being a puppet?”
“Yes, Gert,” JJ amended the pronunciation. “I don’t know. I think we must, but I’m not really on talking terms with him. You saw how he looked right through me at the funeral. I went up to him afterward to thank him, and he wouldn’t shake my hand.”
Chapter 34
“These fuckin’ local yok’ls,” Broad spat. “Tryin’ t’ go it alone.”
He was livid.
Earlier, he’d struck up a conversation with the guesthouse owner who was a devoted NG churchgoer. Her husband was close enough to the inner circle to hear what was going on behind the scenes.
Gabriel Broad had poured on the southern charm and warmed up the plump old lady to give him all the dirt on the town. He’d successfully convinced her that the two branches of Christianity that they respectively sat on were mostly adjacent with only small cosmetic differences. With that notion and thickly laid charisma, he’d won the lady’s confidence.
A Trojan Affair Page 31
