“What? But I didn't do anything. It can't be right.”
“Actually you did, you just didn't know it. You invested your money and made a profit on the investment. Actually, it was a safe deal because the Government guarantees your money. If the currency movements had gone the other way, they'd have made good the loss.”
“Well, shouldn't they get the profit then? Don't seem fair.”
“Mister McMullen, let me give you a word of financial advice. Never even think about giving the Government any more money than you absolutely have to. Now, what are your plans?”
“We're going to get a place of our own, said that, then I want to start up a metal working shop. I'm a riveter see, made a friend at the yard who's a welder and he's got a mate who's a steelworker. We set up together we can do jobbing metalwork, cover us for the times there's no work at the yard.”
“Getting your own house first, then starting a business eh. Good plan. Get bricks and mortar of your own first, then start up the business. You've got a good down payment on a house here, and with a steady job, there'll be no problem giving you a mortgage for the rest.
Then, once you're a property owner, the bank will see no problem in lending you the money for a start up. Very wise planning Mister McMullen, lot of people would have gone the other way, set up the business first and thought about a house later. That's not nearly so good from a planning perspective. Got a house in mind yet?”
“No Sir. Not yet.”
“We've got a good property department here. Bring your wife in and you can look through the books. Buy a property we're brokering and you'll save a lot on fees.
“Now, in the meantime, might I suggest you put your money in a deposit account so it can work for you while you're looking? Our Golden Opportunity account can pay you three and a half percent and you can withdraw the money any time you like. Alternatively there's our Diamond Stake scheme. You promise to leave the money with us for six months and we'll pay you five and a half percent. All figures for a full year of course. By the way, I'm not Sir. Call me Mike. And you're John?”
“Aye, John. Well thanks’ Mike. The Golden Opportunity sounds good. Can I see my money?”
“Come with me.” As he led McMullen down to the vault, the manager grinned to himself. They all asked that and the bank had a pile of gold sovereigns they showed to the people who made the request. It was so much simpler than trying to explain paper deposits and reserve movements.
“There you are John. Soon as you sign the papers, it'll start to work for you.”
“Got just one question Mike. How many people have you told that pile of coins belongs to them? Not complaining, just asking.”
Changi Airport, Singapore
Runway Sighting was a wonderful thing for sure. It had already taken Sir Martyn Sharpens Lockheed Constellation seven and a half hours to cover the 2,500 miles from New Delhi to Singapore. A few years earlier, they would have had to wait overnight at a waypoint to avoid landing in darkness. No. that wasn't true, a few years earlier, he wouldn't have been able to make the trip at all. The war had brought about some startling changes in airliners. Well, American airliners anyway. Now, there was the Constellation for speed and the Cloudliner for range. Sir Martyn blessed Air India's decision to get the Constellation first, it was over eighty miles an hour faster than the Cloudliner, cruising at 330 miles per hour instead of the Cloudliner's 250. That speed difference took nearly three hours off the trip.
Out in the night, another set of navigation lights were twinkling. That would be Sir Gregory Locock's aircraft coming in. This meeting had been hurriedly arranged when the news of the fighting had broken out. Despite the war and some emergency cable laying, communications weren't as good as they could be, in fact they were pretty grim. That was something that would have to be addressed. This was something that should have been discussed directly before staging a meeting but the inadequate cable network just didn't allow it. Still, one thing had worked in their favor. Sir Greg had been in Darwin on a visit when the decision to stage an emergency summit meeting was made. That had put him only six and a half hours out from Singapore.
Now, after the exhausting flights and the flurry of cable messages, the meeting was about to start. Out in the midnight sky, Sir Gregory's aircraft was making its final approach, undoubtedly the pilot listening to the instructions from ground control. The runway lights started flashing, then the Australian aircraft touched down. Another Constellation, this one in the colors of the Royal Australian Air Force. The graceful airliner turned off the runway and headed for the parking stands where Sir Martyn's Connie was already being refueled.
“Sir Gregory, its good to see you again. How was your flight?” It had only taken a few minutes for Sir Gregory Locock to reach the airport terminal building. “I see you have a Connie as well?”
“Indeed so. A very good aircraft indeed Martyn. very good. A far superior machine to the old Handley Page Hercules we flew in back before the war. Hundred miles an hour, remember? We called it the built-in headwind. Now, there was reported to be turbulence in the Netherl.... in Indonesia...... so we just flew over it.”
“There always seems to be turbulence in Indonesia these days. With the transitionary authorities trying to hold power in Jakarta and BUPKIS,...”
“Ah yes, the Bahasa Ummah Partai Karya Indonesia Sejahtera.” Sir Gregory rolled the polysyllabic words around his mouth with pleasure. “Who would ever have thought they would end up as the leading local light?”
“After the Jakarta riots back in '46 I think it was fairly inevitable Greg. Once the Dutch went down in 1940, their rule out here was a rapidly-depleting resource. No fresh-faced young Dutchmen coming off the boat to replenish the ranks so they had to recruit replacements locally.
“American oil purchases for Russia kept them going economically, or at least the oil-producing areas but the rest of the country got hit by recession. Set virtually everybody at each other's throats. Once the riots started in Jakarta, they spread all over the place. Old story. Family Bing has a feud with family Ching so they whip up a local riot and burn their house down. The Dutch couldn't control it no matter how much they wanted to.
“Damn it, we've still got troops in Bali and Lombok and you've got how many in Timor? We could all use them elsewhere. BUPKIS were just the guys who moved fastest, that's all. And they had the money from somewhere.”
“Guess where.” Greg's voice was dry.
“Directly? From the Chinese Great House trading companies of course. Indirectly?” Sir Martyn theatrically shaded his eyes and looked northwards towards Thailand, “BUPKIS is going to take over, we know it, they know it, the Dutch know it. The Dutch are just trying to hold out the for the best deal they can get. That stunt somebody pulled with the forged Constitutional Conference agenda didn't help. Compared with the problems that caused, everything else fades into insignificance.”
“Not for us it doesn't. The eastern end of the island chain is Christian and they don't want to be part of a Moslem country. Very strongly, they don't want that. They want to break away and frankly I don't blame them. The Javanese don't want them to; they have ideas about re-establishing one of the old empires in the area. Without somebody stepping in from outside, there's going to be hell to pay. We've had gentle requests already from, eerrr, interested parties to establish a protectorate over an independent Moluccan state there.”
“The Dutch?”
“'Couldn't say. But probably, through intermediaries. The Dutch tried to get some sort of privileged status for their people but BUPKIS wouldn't hear of it. So now, they're trying to strike deals with the smaller islands, trying to buy themselves a haven. Timor and the Moluccas are Christian so I'd guess they tried there first. Your Hindus are a tolerant lot so that was probably choice two. But all the islands are at each other’s throats. You know that.”