The Kwinkan
Page 7
‘I raised my revolver and pressed the trigger. There was a click, it was all out of bullets and I had not brought any more with me. I turned to Miss Tamada and asked: “Where did you get this? It is mine.”
‘ “Ah, that explains it,” the Japanese woman replied. “Australian Government issue obviously.”
‘Was it that obvious? But I let the comment pass. Who could have searched my cabin and taken my gun? I did not believe that it was Miss Tamada. My suspicions settled on the captain. A rogue, if ever there was one.
‘ “Still, Miss Tamada,” I said, “you haven’t explained how you came into possession of this, this weapon. My cabin has been rifled and this was taken.”
‘ “Oh it was lying on that table. I picked it up and when the cook tossed over the garbage, I decided to have a few shots. You know, you shouldn’t leave loaded weapons lying around. Why, the safety catch wasn’t even on.”
‘I raged with frustration. The beastly woman refused to answer my questions and continued to drag in extraneous material. Were, were all Japanese women so obtuse?
‘ “Oh come on,” Carla said, “is it important? It isn’t even a very good copy. You should consider yourself lucky that it did not explode in Riyoko’s hands. If it did, think of the suit for damages. Poor dear,” she murmured to Riyoko as she stroked her hands. “Dear, you shouldn’t fire off strange weapons. At least, check to see if they are originals, rather than cheap copies.”
‘ “But,” Riyoko smiled, “I did check. It is made in one of our Taiwanese factories. We have quality control at least for the material, but I see that they should be test fired now. I’ll pass on the information and the next time you find yourself firing a .357 Kitsune magnum, it shall fire true.”
‘I stared at my empty gun, then at the two women. If everything was possible as it seemed to be, they might even have some bullets. I was just about to ask them when a large hand reached out and took the revolver from me. “You ken, Laddy, these things are dangerous and I’ll have none of them on my ship.”
‘He flung the revolver into the ocean and I stuttered and began to protest until he quoted a Fijian law, under which the schooner was registered, to the effect that unlicensed weapons were banned on ships. What could I do? I flung my hands up in despair and retreated to the saloon, where I, for want of a better term, hung one on. I remember in the course of the night going to my cabin and regarding the mess. My possessions were strewn across the floor like my discarded dreams. I could have cried, but instead went back to the saloon for a large whisky.
SESSION SIX
‘Well, again we start. Ah, that stupid gun episode. How silly it seems now, or does it? Really an odd-shaped piece to fit into the puzzle. Yes; but to begin, to continue. The taperecorder is consuming its tape and wants my words to spice its silence. It moves around and around, the voyage of that schooner endlessly circling in my mind, and the Kwinkan? Sir, put it down to a mere flight of fancy. Aboriginal substitutions, I mean, of course, superstitions do not sit well within the European mind; but I digress. Of course, my life is one long digression. Let it be; let it be ... Well, after the pistol episode, it all seemed to fall away. You see, before then I felt I had it in the palm of my hand ... Had what? Well, everything, sir, everything. Opportunities galore. Just recall, I was on a boat with an influential member of the Kitsune Corporation and the head of Sas Enterprises and she was not only that, but a member of the most influential family on a group of undeveloped islands soon to achieve, or be given, independence and thus presenting ripe pickings for one of my kind. Then Carla was also a good-looking screw, well worth a tumble on the mattress and, you know, get a woman in your bed, do your stuff and all else follows. Get me? Such opportunism, such opportunities, and just as I began reaching out, the cabin and gun business startled me and I jerked my hand back. It was then that things began to go wrong. Don’t worry, I am about to get to them. Right now, in fact, for I dislike rambling on ...
‘Next morning, I could barely bring myself to face my fellow passengers. In fact, it was not a difficult thing to do, for Carla and Miss Tamada from then on were inseparable as well as most incommunicative. Abandoned to my own devices, I had no one to turn to, but the captain, who proved a gruff, old sea-dog with a surprising sense of humour. He loved my rendition of “A Scottish Soldier”, and in the evenings we used to sit on deck, he sipping his whisky and I sucking on my beer while we eyed the two women discussing what they were discussing as they strolled around the deck arm in arm. Why, on occasion they even giggled like two schoolgirls. They brought a dab of colour into our dour men’s world.
‘I believe that if we had had more time, our little group might have re-formed in all its previous intimacy, but on the fifth morning I came on deck to find our sturdy vessel under the command of her doughty skipper chugging through a scattering of islands, all of a similar design as if they came from the factories of Kitsune: a circle of green marked with an indentation of white. A few were circled completely by reefs; while others shared a single lei. Of course being privy to the confidences of our skipper meant that I knew that on this day we would be among the islands. In fact, the previous night he had pointed the stem of his reeking pipe (naturally like all mariners he smoked a pipe rather than the too feminine cigarette) at the thick boll of a coconut palm drifting past and stated that we were close to our destination. Now we headed straight at a large green and red island which stood up from the water, if you will pardon the expression, like a rampant prick. It even had a head of sorts, being crowned by a pink and white cone of what, Carla had informed me of this when she and I were communicating, had once been an active volcano. It had been long dormant, but as I stared at it, I suddenly shivered as I imagined it spurting with, with the cum of red hot lava. In fact, so vivid was the image that I seemed to feel the splash of drops of warm fluid on my face. I gave a silly kind of laugh and looked around sheepishly, for I was standing at the bows and some drops of spray had been dashed up.
‘Moving right to the very tip of the bow, I assumed a position much like the figurehead ornamenting the bows of a vessel, though I had always thought these to be female. Leaning forward, I stared directly at real life and the beginning of my mission. On that somewhat grotesque island stood a general post office and a mailbox. There was communication with Australia and details about how to further my mission. Now shipboard life became unreal and my lies to Carla ceased to matter. Shipboard life was as ephemeral as shipboard romance. Now I wanted to see a newspaper and check the Brisbane stockmarket. I wanted to be in contact with the wider world and my broker. I forgot that this vessel was the mail boat and the only newspapers I might see would be a week old, the ones I had already glanced through in Suva. Still, still for all I knew, amongst the mail might be my instructions. I would be directed to contact a shadowy so-and-so, have secret meetings in the night with the Opposition, be privy to the mysterious comings and goings of shrouded beings plotting for the seizure of power and above all booty. It was then that I knew that I was the man for the job. I could plot with the best of them when it came to the dollar. Then doubts arose. The image of Carla with the flashing green eyes and delectable mouth rose to taunt me. Could I really betray her and curry favour with the Opposition? Of course I damn well could. I really believed it—then!
‘I had never been captured by a woman. My creed was to take ’em then leave ’em when I got what I came for. It was a good philosophy and I should have stuck to it. Of course, I have been married twice, and almost thrice; but these alliances were dissolved when my needs were satisfied. A woman after all was a bad substitute for a mate on whom you could rely. And so I tried to see Carla in this light, though, I must admit, I had not attained my objective; but when the opportunity came again, I would take her for all I could get. It never entered my mind, and in fact I could not believe, that I might become an infatuated slave ready to obey the slightest whim of my mistress, and worse, to be manipulated by such a harridan. How could I believe this, especially when I
populated the approaching island with willing golden girls hot with the urgency of the tropics? It was then that my fickle imagination betrayed me. I imagined Carla and her swooning rapture. I could feel her devouring lips on mine and the pressure of her thighs about me. Such an exquisitely shaped body writhing in pleasure and experiencing it in such powerful spasms that I had an erection. I heard her tiny cries, her long sigh suddenly choked off, a snatch of song falling from her lips in the afterglow. I tried to wrench my mind free from such images. The Gyinggi woman repelled as well as fascinated me. Such revulsion; such ecstasy. I felt the Kwinkan coming in great spasms which tore his flesh and drained the very marrow from his bones. Oh God, such fantasies, such such absurd fantasies. I stared out at the reefs bringing myself to some reality. The vessel passed close to one of them. The foam swirled exposing the hidden rocks beneath. The engines shuddered towards a passageway and my mouth twisted in mockery at myself and my emotions. What did it matter, they would crash into the reality of the approaching island, green and red with a pale cone of ice reaching up to cool the heaven of hot illusion. I struggled to free myself of carnal desires, for there in front of me lay the means to recoup my fortune.
‘The ocean pulsed gently, calmly, radiantly behind me. A soft breeze flowed from our destination. It bore the aroma of slightly rotten bananas and the burnt musk of sugar. It was then that Carla joined me. I was alone with her, but too late ... She smiled and touched my side. My eyes met hers. Under the golden red of her flowing hair, I saw a frown lying there in wrinkled lines of ivory across her forehead. I saw that her eyes were sad; then she tossed her head in that familiar gesture I had admired, and whispered: “Already, and, and I expected more from you.”
‘ “It is never too late,” I replied brightly.
‘ “Perhaps it is always too late, for you,” she said flatly, her hand going to her dishevelled hair which was being tugged about by the breeze. One hand managed to encircle the glossy mass, the other fumbled at a silver clip. She raised her hands to fasten her hair and her upraised arms made her breasts swell. I could not drag my eyes away. Her hands left her head, her arms fell, and I saw that she had imprisoned her hair, pinned it back so severely that her face looked stern and bare. It was then that I could imagine her dominating her directors in the boardroom.
‘But appearances were deceiving. Her eyes, flecked with gold, held mine as she spoke in a tiny voice so unlike her usual tone that I thought Miss Tamada had stolen up on us. She whispered: “What do you think about it?”
‘I entered her mood, whatever it was and replied: “I don’t know.”
‘She bit savagely down on her swollen bottom lip as she said: “We have to ...” What on earth was she alluding to? It was beyond me. I waited for more words.
‘ “Do you know that the Tui-tui reaches port this afternoon? It’ll stay for a few days, then return to Suva. Did you know that?”
‘ “Yes,” I replied, for the skipper had told me so.
‘ “Well, then, perhaps you should be on it. Our islands really are still pretty dull, and perhaps your, your mission might be somewhat upsetting for us.”
‘ “Never, Carla, never,” I couldn't help exclaiming.
‘ “Still, we are somewhat insular and don’t take kindly to strangers snooping around. We like to pick our own friends ...”
‘ “Carla, you can trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you, never, never.”
‘ “And yet,” she said with a malicious smile, “you have ignored me for the last few days. You seemed to find that captain more to your taste. Well, I didn’t think you were like that!”
‘ “Like what?” I almost shouted.
‘ “Well, no matter,” she said shrugging my question away. “Your mission, well, perhaps it is not that important.”
‘I felt myself wilting under her gaze. Desperately, I began to stress the importance of my mission, declaring that it would bring our two countries together and that I had the confidence of the Prime Minister.
‘ “I see,” she replied dispassionately. “I welcome you to our island as a respected guest. Soon, you will be able to see the small island on which Kitsune is building our international airport. It is of utmost importance for us to have it. Our future, I feel, is in tourism and for that we need an airport and one close to the capital, though somewhat isolated from it. Do you think terrorism will ever come to our lovely island?” she asked, suddenly clutching my arm. “Sometimes, sometimes, I’m so afraid of the future, so afraid.”
‘I took the opportunity to clasp her to me, as she continued: “You see, darling, please forget your Brisbane, Sydney and Canberra. Things are different on our islands. My family have been colonial rulers for 200 years. Little Britain so far away, left us to our own devices. Do you realise,” she said with a grin, detaching herself from my arms, “that we never have had a royal visit, not a single one? We have always been passed by. In fact, I feel that the Colonial Office in London must have misplaced our file until recently and so we are used to making our own laws, not only for ourselves but for the other people here. We are used to ruling and used to that freedom which comes from ruling. You and others limit yourselves to petty intrigues and hypocrisies; but we have never had the need, or the need to lie as you have lied to me. You are so used to lying that you lie to yourself constantly. You lie to yourself and to others in order to rob them, then lie again to cover up your crime. I can feel nothing but contempt for such a system and those trapped within it,” she said with a grimace which made her face ugly.
‘ “But, but ...” I exclaimed.
‘ “Don’t ‘but’ me, I pass through such edifices of lies and return to the honesty of my own home. This is mine, all mine; but how unfortunate that we too must think about stooping to subterfuge in order to maintain my, our independence.”
‘ “Oh Carla, oh Carla,” I whispered, forgetting the businesswoman to reach out for the soft, island girl beneath, “let me cherish and protect you. You’re such a sweet kid, so so unspoilt.”
‘ “Oh God,” she exclaimed impatiently, “you are such a boy. I would have thought that with all your manipulations in the world of finance, you might offer me something concrete; but you are like all your countrymen where women are concerned: naive!”
‘Well, naturally, I recoiled. She might be the head of Sas Enterprises, a glorified string of beauty salons and thus suitable for a woman; but I was a man from the male world of business and not only that but an Aussie. And this woman hailing from an obscure group of islands which placed altogether would be less than the size of Tasmania, had called me naive.
‘'She saw the look on my face, but refused to see reason. “Just remember,” she said, “that everything is simple here. These islands are ours and always will be. I invite you here, and through me you shall have an entrance into our society, but don’t assume too much ...” She smiled into my scowl and exclaimed: “I expect that you’ll be making reports. Well, I will wish to see them before you send them off. This has nothing to do with you, darling,” she added, relenting a little, “but it will be for the best. Will you promise me at least that?” she asked imploringly.
‘Who can resist the importuning of a beautiful woman? I promised.
‘ “Thank you, thank you darling,” she murmured in return, her eyes soft and misty. “You know, I have a place on the side of the mountain. I designed it to, well to cater for my every whim. I had it spun from concrete, so light so ethereal; but when I tire of being there, of being perfect as it were, I leave to seek other diversions. Now, I can’t wait to get back to my nest. You shall come there with me. We’ll construct your reports there. You’ll be the perfect little spy, no, you disagree with the term, well, agent. Now, don’t shake your head and look stern. You have little to complain about. You’ll be seen to be doing your job and no one’ll be the wiser. Say ‘yes’, please say ‘yes’,” she demanded like a small child.
‘ “But, but, Carla,” I began.
‘ “But what?” s
he demanded, stamping her foot in exasperation. “There are no ‘buts’ on my island. You’re going there and that’s that.”
‘ “Yes, maybe ... perhaps for a few days.”
‘ “Well, that wasn’t hard, was it,” she said sardonically. “God, you Aussies are so British sometimes that you remind me of the New Zealanders. So it’s settled. My uncle, you’ll like him, he’s a scientist like you pretended to be, is Resident, we never rated a Governor, at Hermansburg, our soon-to-be capital. You can stay in his official residence before we move up onto the mountain.”
‘I nodded just as Miss Tamada came up lugging her damnable computer. She got Carla to sit on the deck cross-legged by her side and soon the machine was humming and flickering with plans and images of the new airport. The Japanese woman ignored me and kept her voice down as she pointed out parts of diagrams to Carla, then if a detail seemed obscure, she isolated it and increased its size to fill the screen. Such were the marvels of modern Japanese technology, but I soon grew bored. My mind was on other things.
‘I stared at some outrigger canoes which drifted past us, or rather went on with their fishing while we nosed past them. A few sails showed in the gap in the reef towards which we were heading. Beyond I saw the white roofs of Hermansburg. Somehow, I recognised it as colonial. In fact it reminded me of a mid-nineteenth-century etching I had seen of the penal settlement of Van Diemen’s Land. It looked just as small and just as desolate. As I stared a sense of foreboding came over me, just as it must have come over those poor convicts who came up on the decks of their prison ships to see their future homes and realised that they were as far away from civilisation as they could be sent. This is what the Prime Minister had done to me.
‘The vessel nosed through the gap in the reef and entered what was quite a large harbour. Beneath me Miss Tamada tapped out a code which resulted in pictures of what Hermansburg would eventually become. Kitsune had big plans for this island, huge plans, and all I had was sweet f.a. The schooner began manoeuvring towards the wharf. A group of islanders clustered looking up at me. Their eyes got to me and I glanced away towards a smaller island enclosed within the reef. It had been rendered down into a flat platform of coral on which moved a solitary yellow bulldozer. The new airport. I shrugged and went to my cabin to pack.’