The Kwinkan. Mudrooroo

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The Kwinkan - Mudrooroo

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in a panic. “What have I done to deserve this? I’m being exiled, shipped off to some rotten, godforsaken place to rot. Do you take me for some kind of fool?”

      ‘ “You always were an excitable chap,” the Prime Minister commented imperturbably. “Well, it may be a good thing in the place where you’re going. Well, this country, or rather group of islands, is to achieve independence in the near future and the arrangements are now being drawn up in London in close consultation with our Department of Foreign Affairs. This island group after all is close to our shores, and we must not only have a say in its future, but must now learn about what’s happening there: who are the local leaders, what’s their political persuasion and so on and so forth. You’ll be filled in on this in Canberra. So now you know the job. Only a fact-finding mission, you understand. Nothing else, but a fact-finding mission. You are not being forced into exile or any such absurdity like that. What I’m offering you is a coolingoff period away from your enemies. Look on it as a holiday, see it as a chance to get away and have time out to pull yourself together. God, how I envy you. Your own desert island, your own primeval South Sea island paradise. God, the opportunities there. A future Gold Coast and you there right at the beginning. It’ll leave Surfers’ for dead one day, and you have the savvy to make it happen to the advantage of yourself, Queensland and of course, Australia.”

      ‘ “What, what?” I stuttered. This man was too, too much. They were getting rid of me on the cheap. Why had I threatened them?

      ‘ “I’d give my eyeteeth to be on the ground floor. Sad, sad, responsibilities of office and duty hold me in chains. So I offer this plum to you, old mate. It’s yours, for the eating.”

      ‘ “I’m the one who’s being eaten,” I muttered, feeling myself teetering on the edge of a great despair-the ultimate despair.

      ‘He flung me a rope. “It could lead to much, much better things,” he said, “that is if you wish to forsake commerce.”

      ‘ “Such as?” I asked, jerking back from the edge.

      ‘ “An ambassadorship to Ireland and the Vatican, if you do the job well.”

      ‘Well, well that was more like it. My dear old school chum waited sucking on that wretched pipe. I thought of Ireland, the Emerald Isle and of warm Roman thighs. Why, I might become a papal knight. What did it matter if I was not a Catholic? Who would know? And that other place? It couldn’t be that bad, and I’d be out of reach of my creditors. Before me stretched a gold brick road lined with opportunities and leading to the ultimate resort. The pot of gold glimmered at the end of the rainbow and I felt my hand trembling and my fingers clutching, seizing ... A voyage to a far-off land, a South Sea island just waiting to be developed. But, but, I could never trust the old rogue. Where was the catch, where was it? Oh that I had known something about such islands and their ways ...

      ‘The Prime Minister stirred. He had given me enough rope to hang myself. He coughed into my silence and stated: “If this job isn’t suitable, there’s another one going which might help you out with your creditors. It’s with the newly formed Company Police Squad. With your knowledge you should go far. What do you say to that?”

      ‘I stood on the pivot of the seesaw. One end went down, then the other. I shifted my weight and evened them up. Policeman balanced against, well against diplomat. There was no choice and I knew it. I shifted off the pivot and the post of diplomat landed with a thud on the earth. “The Department of Foreign Affairs,” I cried. “I shall be accredited of course.”

      ‘ “Not at once,” he replied. “It’s rather hush-hush. It might be better that you be nominally under the secret service blokes for the period; but I promise you that you’ll have a free hand, a diplomat’s salary commensurate with your status and a liberal expense account.”

      ‘ “Well, I’ll just have to see how it goes,” I said, refusing to let him see my eagerness ...’

      ‘Unfortunately, the PM took this as final. Things moved swiftly after that. Next morning, I was surprised to find a car waiting to whisk me to the airport where I was put on a plane to Canberra. There, I was enrolled in ASIO, given a code number, and taken to a training institute where I learnt to operate a radio transmitter and hand weapons. All this occurred over the next week. At the end of this period, I was offered a revolver which I took and stashed in my suitcase as I wasn’t prepared to play the secret service wallah for anyone. Sufficient, even generous funds were placed at my disposal. I made sure that my salary was to be paid directly into my bank account which would make my bank manager more accommodating when my credit card account came due. It was strange and indeed out of character when the Prime Minister came to see me before the official swearing in. “See, mate, I’m really looking after you,” he smiled that smile of his which never reached his wary eyes. Unconsciously, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his old pipe. He sucked on it as he regarded me. “Us Queenslanders stick together,” he stated as if it was still the good old days. Then he added (and it was the reason why he had come to see me), “Of course, there is the formality of an oath to be taken under the Official Secrets Act, just a formality I assure you. You are really not part of ASIO, and have been seconded to my office, so that,” and he smiled that smile of his, “so that, I can keep an eye out for you. Your mission will take about six months and your reports will be passed directly to me. In this way,” and I swear he winked, “any little discrepancies will be safely ignored.”

      ‘After this I was taken to the office of the head of ASIO and the PM watched as I was sworn to secrecy forever and warned that any disclosure of government secrets would end in a long prison term. Then he quickly shook my hand and left me to stew in the knowledge that I had been duped again. If I now sought to disclose any information about him and his dealings, I would find myself up on a charge of treason before a secret court. I was still fuming as I rushed to the airport. But I was off on a Pacific paradise holiday. I wanted to meet a banker with development funds. Money was romance enough for me. That, at least, was what I thought as I embarked. Oh, that it had been so ...’

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