It just didn’t make sense. That he could achieve a temporary success was obvious. He appeared to have done that already. But how could he possibly hope to build on it to the point where Bougainville could successfully achieve a unilateral declaration of independence? There had to be some advantage for him, something that he was certain he could negotiate before the initial success of the plan collapsed under the longer-term strain of forces that must in the end prove too powerful for him. But what? Perhaps he didn’t see it that way. Perhaps he believed that the people of Bougainville and Buka would combine to make the whole thing politically possible.
It was a fascinating possibility, and toying with it in my mind, I began to wonder how I could turn it to my own advantage. Providence had brought me to this island at a moment of intense political activity when events would produce either change or chaos. Whichever it was, there would be opportunities. A selfish point of view, perhaps, but when you’re out of a job and looking for openings in a new world, it’s not unnatural to relate events to your own personal problems. By the time we reached the intersection with the Kieta road I had more or less made up my mind.
There was no road block now, and no guard. With the mine road blown there was no need. The time was 02.17. Four hours since Tooley would have sent his telex. I wondered what he would have said, what they would think of it at Port Moresby. Or would he notify his own head office in Melbourne and leave them to inform the PNG government? The latter probably, in which case nobody would do anything about it till morning. It would probably be midday before Port Moresby appreciated the situation, and then, even if they were able to establish communications with the mine, they would still have to convince themselves that it had really happened, and only then would they start considering what should be done about it. It could be thirty-six hours at least before any positive action was taken.
I was thinking about that as we approached Anewa. A lot could happen in thirty-six hours.
The dark rainforest walls that had hemmed us in since we had struggled up on to the road fell back. We were into a clearing, the tarmac shining wet under the stars, and round a bend storage sheds black in shadow. It was cooler now, a faint smell of the sea and the sweat on my body ice-cold. A bridge over a stream, another bend and the road straightening out with the power station’s fuel oil tanks looming above us, everything dark except for the double flash of the light tower on Takanupe Island marking the passage seaward. Perenna paused, her head on one side, listening. ‘I thought I heard the sound of a generator.’
We had just passed the second fuel tank, and through the gap between that and the next I could see the huge bulk of the power station itself. It stood in total darkness. ‘Maybe it’s the ship.’ I was close beside her, staring at the road ahead. Beyond the last tank was the sea. It was lighter there, the road bending round to the left to pass in front of the power station. I was wondering where they would have set up their guard post.
She seemed to read my thoughts, for she said, ‘If we keep to the road, we’ll walk straight into a trap.’
But there was nowhere else we could go, the sea and the stream to our right, and the fuel tanks to our left surrounded by a wire fence.
‘They’ll probably have control of the ship anyway.’ Now that we had reached the port I wasn’t at all sure what to do for the best.
‘I don’t care whether they’ve got the ship or not.’ She was tired, and her voice sounded petulant. ‘I just want to get back on board. To my bunk, a shower, familiar surroundings, Jona.’
We went on, moving cautiously under the shadow of the last fuel tank. We could hear the sea, a soft lapping of tiny wavelets. And then, round the bend, suddenly there was the glimmer of lights and the familiar, homely shape of the LCT. It was no longer at the slipway, but tied up alongside the loading wharf. ‘It’s still there.’ She said it in a tone of weary relief, and she quickened her pace.
The road all the way to the ship was clear under the stars, and it was empty, no vehicles, no sign of movement, nothing, and the power station a huge black block above it with no sign of life. I thought we’d make it then as we hurried on past some small buildings and into the shadow of the power station. Several company cars were parked in front of it, and with the whole building silent and dead, they had an abandoned air like cars in a film sequence depicting some nuclear disaster. I was wondering what had happened to their drivers, to all the men who would have been on the night shift, when the trap was sprung. A powerful spotlight blazed blindingly out from the ship, and turning away from the glare of it, I saw a torch signalling from one of the small buildings back down the road and figures with guns in their hands running towards us.
I put my hands up, told Perenna to do the same and waited. There were five of them, and when they were close to us they slowed to a walk, talking excitedly among themselves. One of them seemed to know who we were. He spoke briefly to Perenna in Pidgin, all the time watching me as though I were some sort of prize exhibit. ‘We’re to go to the ship,’ she said. The blacks hemmed us in, and we started walking. ‘It seems there’s been a search party out looking for you.’
‘For me? Why me?’
She spoke to the tall, rather stately looking man who seemed to be the leader. The name Holland was mentioned several times; then she shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know. Only that they need you for something.’ The spotlight had been switched off, and I could make out the figure of a man moving along the wharf towards us.
It proved to be Teopas, and when he reached us, he said, ‘We wait here now.’
‘Why?’ Perenna demanded. ‘Where’s my brother? Is Captain Holland out looking for us?’
He shook his head, his eyes sullen. ‘Your brother not well.’
‘Not well? What’s happened?’ She tried to push past him, but he held her back. ‘I must go on board — now.’ Her voice sounded wild, tiredness and alarm combined as she tried to wrench her arm free.
‘Mr Hans speak with me on the radio. You do not go to the ship until he has talk with you.’ He was looking at me now. ‘So we wait here. Okay?’
I nodded, and the two of us stood there waiting in an uneasy silence, the islanders talking quietly amongst themselves. Twice I asked Teopas why Holland wanted me, why the ship had been moved from the slip to the loading wharf, but he ignored my questions, standing with his back to me, his gaze fixed on the Anewa approach road.
About ten minutes later the loom of headlights showed beyond the fuel tanks. It was a car, driven fast, its headlights sweeping the bay as it came round the bend, then blazing straight at us. Perenna’s face, picked out in the full glare, was white and very tense, her eyes closed, her lips moving wordlessly. I had no doubt who would be in that car, nor had she, and again I was conscious of the powerful effect he seemed to have on her.
The car stopped, and he got out, the red hair limned by the lights, the same jaunty, commanding air as he stood for a moment talking to Teopas. Then he came towards us, glancing briefly at Perenna before turning to me, his face in shadow. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ There was anger in his voice, the anger of a man under considerable strain. ‘I’ve had to waste an hour looking for you. Well, where were you?’
‘Up at the mine.’
Something had clearly gone wrong, and I thought that might provoke him. But all he said was: ‘I see.’ He was silent a moment, looking at the two of us. ‘You walked out, then. How?’
‘By the old tote road.’
‘Why not the highway?’