Episode 308: Kupang Time
Fleming's Lillienthal glider hung from the cargo hold hoist like an abstract
sculpture of some strange mythological bird. In what passed for the craft's
cockpit, the airman was adjusting his harness straps and arranging a chart
beneath a sheet of Parkesine. He seemed confident, but Everett wanted to
make sure the Aussie wasn't about to take some unreasonable risk -- to the
extent that it was possible to be certain of these things with members of
his culture.
"Remember that this is a volunteer mission," he told the youth. "If you
encounter any difficulties, abort your flight and find some safe place to
land. You will still receive credit for the attempt."
Fleming gave them a thumbs-up sign. "Don't worry, Captain!" he announced.
"She'll be apples! I've done this dozens of time before."
"Very well," said Everett. "Abercrombie, lower away 50'."
The rigger turned to the hoist controls and pushed a button. Panels
rattled as the cargo bay doors slid open, then the glider began its
descent. It yawed as it was caught by the slipstream, then straightened
as Fleming made a correction. When the winch had paid out fifty feet,
Abercrombie braked it to a halt.
"Crivens," he muttered. "The laddie must be mad."
Everett could appreciate the Scotsman's sentiment. From this angle, the
glider looked impossibly small and vulnerable -- a toy when measured against
the immensity of the sky. It wobbled briefly in pitch, roll, and yaw as
Fleming checked his controls. Satisfied, the youth gave them a wave,
pulled the release, and dropped away behind them.
Everett thumbed the intercom to the bridge. "MacKiernan, do you have him in
sight?"
"Aye, Captain. He just started to circle and seems to be climbing. I
imagine he's found one of those `thermals' he was telling us about."
"We will assume that he knows what he's doing," Everett observed. "He has
proved quite resourceful in the past. Let us continue with our own
business."
They remained offshore to avoid observation, but touched the coast briefly
to examine the site of the abandoned Russian laboratory. By now the clearing
was heavily overgrown -- testimony to the fecundity of tropical vegetation. The
barge still lay near the mouth of the estuary, riding somewhat higher now
that it was empty.
"It doesn't look as if anyone's been here since those fellows on that
freighter picked up that cargo of barbed wire," said MacKiernan. "What was
its name?"
"That would have been the Tranquility," said Iverson. "We've run
into them several times now. I've always wondered about the contents of
that barge. Why would anyone need several tons of barbed wire out here?"
"The brochures we found aboard suggested it was for the Rabbit-Proof
Fence," said Jenkins.
"The Rabbit-Proof Fence?" said Sarah. "Whatever is that?"
"It's a long barrier in Western Australia intended to prevent rabbits from
spreading east," said Jenkins.
The island girl brightened. "Like Great Wall of China, only different."
"I suppose that's one way of looking at it," said Jenkins, with a hint of a
smile.
Iverson had been studied the surf where it broke across the bar. "Shall we
send down a party in the launch?" he asked apprehensively, knowing who might
be asked to lead it.
"I'm unwilling to spend the time and resources this early in our mission,"
said Everett. "We will continue on to Kupang.
Kupang looked the same as ever -- a small cluster of Dutch colonial offices
surrounded by a maze of warehouses, bungalows, godowns, and shacks that
wouldn't have looked out of place in the Eighteenth Century. To the west,
the air station provided a taste of the Twentieth. Several
's -- Dutch copies of the Armstrong
Whitworth built under license -- rode from its masts, and a row of
construction equipment to the south suggested that the facilities were
undergoing expansion.
Mooring operations went smoothly. The Dutch may not have been quite as
well-organized as the Germans or British, but they did have their pride, and
a team of islanders walked the ship to the mast with practiced efficiency.
After the vessel was secure, Everett set off with MacKiernan to pay a visit
to the Resident. He brought Murdock along as well -- this would be a good
experience for the young lieutenant, and his presence might lead their host
to underestimate them.
Murdock seemed impressed by the town's history. "Is this really where
Captain Bligh landed after the mutiny?" he asked.
"Yes," MacKiernan said innocently. "He was worried about cannibals."
The lieutenant glanced around in alarm. Everett caught MacKiernan's eye and
made a scolding gesture. "They generally are not a problem this early in
the day," he observed.
Murdock did not seem entirely reassured. "Was he really as harsh a
disciplinarian as they say?" he asked.
"This is a matter of some debate," said Everett. "His name may have become
a byword for excessive severity, but his logs suggest he was fairly lenient
by the standards of the day. He also proved an able administrator during his
tenure in Australia. In any event, most of blame for mutiny must lie with
the mutineers. This Fletcher Christian was a man of questionable
character, and many of his co-conspirators may have been motivated by a
desire to enjoy the presumed advantages of a life in Tahiti."
"And a fine set of advantages they are," agreed MacKiernan. "It must have
been quite the temptation."
Murdock gazed at his superiors quizzically. "What do you mean?"
Everett studied the youth's expression and repressed a sigh. "You'll
understand when you're older."
The Resident was a polite well-groomed Dutchman with a neatly trimmed
mustache and beard -- hardly the picture of a dishonest official -- but
dissimulation was part of the job description for corrupt colonial
administrators. "Welcome to Kupang," he told them. "It's not every day
we're fortunate enough to receive a visit from the Royal Navy. I assume
you're here to investigate that complaint of an attack on British
nationals."
Everett hid his surprise. This was the first he'd heard of such a thing.
"We trust your office to manage the investigation," he replied graciously.
"But we'd be interesting in learning what you've discovered."
The Resident seemed to relax slightly. "It was minor incident," he
assured them. "A pair of tourists was accosted by ruffians, but their
butler was able to drive the assailants off. I will have a copy of the
report sent to your ship."
"Thank you," said Everett. "We're also curious about these recent
episodes of piracy. We understand an airship was involved."
"So it has been claimed," said the Resident, "but these supposed attacks
hardly deserve to be called piracy . They've been more in the nature of
petty theft. I gather there have been similar incidents in French
Polynesia. Perhaps the same people are involved."
"Where could they find resupply?" Murdock asked artlessly.
Bless him, thought Everett. That should put our host
off-guard.
The Resident's smile could have sold any number of used cars. "They
would find this difficult in the Dutch East Indies," he informed them.
"We police these waters quite thoroughly. This is not some lawless
region like New Guinea."
Next week: Airman Fleming's Wild Ride...
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