time for the young General Suharto who had returned to the field, having been banished by the former C-in-C, General Nasution, accused of smuggling activities with the Chinese cukong, Lim Sioe Liong. At that time, Lieutenant Colonel Subroto and his fellow pilots had played a central role in the campaign, flying missions in their Soviet-supplied Tu-2, and Il-28 light, tactical bombers. Subroto had been more fortunate than many of his comrades during this confrontation, as the Dutch accounted for many of the inexperienced pilots during aerial engagements. Nevertheless, President Soekarno had heaped praises and medals upon all involved, when the future province fell to the Indonesians. And, as Subroto’s name was linked with Suharto’s with respect to the outcome, the AURI General was spared during the ignominious period that followed the coups of 1965, when the Indonesian Air Force was cleansed of its communist elements.
The AVM’s star had then remained in limbo up until the AURI 1985 reorganization, when a large number of the country’s senior ranking officers were either made redundant, or encouraged to enter Parliament, where the military maintained a controlling block of seats. Subroto had elected to move into private enterprise and was placed on the semi-retirement list, along with some fifty others of general rank, to assist with their transition from military to civilian roles.
It was because of Subroto’s close links with the Indonesian Ministry of Mines, that Baird first approached the retired officer seeking sponsorship. That, and the fact Subroto had worked closely with the Australians during the early Seventies, when the RAAF gave AURI a squadron of Sabres to assist rehabilitate operational air-defence training. When Subroto learned that Baird had the capacity to introduce foreign mining companies, the Air Vice Marshal agreed to provide legitimate shelter for the geologist’s activities.
At first, their arrangement had prospered. Baird, true to his word, succeeded in introducing a number of mining investment opportunities to Subroto who, in return, showed his gratitude by accepting the geologist into his family circle. But, when Baird’s reputation had later been sullied over his dealings with Kremenchug, their relationship had slowly deteriorated, further exacerbated by Subroto’s discovery of Baird’s deviate sexual preferences which, in turn, led to Mardidi being removed from the office staff, and the appearance of Subroto’s niece, Pipi Suhartono.
****
Baird remained politely interested, relieved that Subroto was nearing the end of his often-repeated tale.
‘And, when the Sabre flew over the rich rice paddies in Central Java, the pilot experienced a flameout, and ejected.’
Although Baird had heard this story before, he was always at odds as how best to respond to what happened next. As usual, he decided to appear quietly introspective.
‘Who would not believe in ‘adjal’, Eric?’ the General asked, rhetorically, referring to the belief that all death is predestined. ‘A simple farmer, tilling the soil, who has most likely never strayed more than a few kilometers from his village and land since birth, suddenly hears the rush of wind and looks up and, in that moment, is killed by this strange object falling from the heavens.’
It was normally at this point in the telling, that Baird would put on his serious face, feigning interest. ‘To die from old age or even disease is one thing. But, to be killed by
an ejection seat when one has never even seen an aeroplane, surely must demonstrate that Allah planned for this to happen? ’
This, Baird knew, was his signal to nod his acceptance. ‘It would certainly seem that way, Pak.’
‘Yes, that is precisely my point!’
Baird was surprised by Subroto’s deviation from previous closings.
‘If someone dropped something on you, Eric,’ the Javanese’s eyes danced mischievously, ‘then we would be obliged to accept that such a mishap was, undoubtedly, by Allah’s design.’
Eric Baird experienced a familiar, sinking sensation in his stomach. During his years living in this country, he had learned that opinions were regularly offered, disguised in the most oblique forms. Javanese disliked confrontation – and, even when addressing foreigners, rarely came directly to the point. However, Baird clearly understood the underlying threat Subroto had made.
‘Pak ‘Broto,’ he opened, reverently, ‘this time, Kremenchug has agreed to give us shares in the Kalimantan venture.’
‘You cannot trust this man,’ Subroto replied, obstinately.
Baird quickly calculated the value of his quarter of a million dollars in stock. ‘We will be given almost half a billion Rupiah worth of stocks in the Canadian company.’
Subroto removed his glasses, looked directly into Baird’s eyes, and started tapping the desk with a ball pen. The US dollar equivalent was around two hundred thousand, the sum far more meaningful in light of recent losses. After some moments of deliberation, he reached across and, waving the pen in the air, asked, ‘When?’
Baird was swept with relief. ‘Within the next months, Pak.’
‘You will keep my share in your name,’ Subroto ordered, ‘I don’t want any dealings with Kremenchug directly. Is that clear?’
That his sponsor had failed to thank him for the generous gift was of no consequence to Baird. Subroto could now be counted upon to support the Canadian venture, whenever obstacles appeared, as Baird knew they inevitably would. The mining industry had become an investment nightmare for the unsuspecting investor, the bureaucratic quagmire deliberately created by officialdom, a means for extracting payments from foreign participants.
‘I’ll make the necessary arrangements, Pak,’ Baird promised.
Subroto’s face turned friendly. ‘Speaking of arrangements, Eric, how are things progressing between you and my niece?’
Baird visibly trembled at the mention of Pipi Suhartono, unable to control his discomfort as he looked towards the closed door for escape.
‘I have been very busy with Kremenchug,’ he explained.
‘You shouldn’t neglect her,’ Subroto’s face suddenly became serious. ‘Pipi is very fond of you, Eric, and you are fortunate to have a woman of her quality and education as a companion.’
Baird felt his blood begin to freeze. Several months had transpired since Pipi had been introduced to him and, since that first meeting, Subroto had insisted that Baird accompany his niece to a number of formal functions, the most recent, a family wedding. Subroto’s intentions were frighteningly clear to Baird, his dilemma, how to avoid involvement with Pipi without offending his sponsor. At Subroto’s insistence, he had escorted Pipi to the movies once, and attended an outing to the Bogor gardens with members of her immediate family. Stunned when he discovered that it was assumed they were to become engaged, Baird had seriously considered leaving the country altogether, and had remained only because of Mardidi’s ineligibility to obtain a visa for Australia. ‘Pak ‘Broto,’ Baird’s hands were clasped in anxiety, ‘I have the greatest respect for Pipi, but I am not ready for another commitment just yet.’
Subroto’s eyes narrowed considerably. ‘Are you still involved with that banci?’
Baird’s stomach squeezed with the word. ‘Mardidi is not a banci, Pak.’
‘I
