Draw the Brisbane Line (38 page)

‘And you think this,’ Dave said, pointing at the bustling coastline, ‘will work?’

‘It will work, for what it’s intended,’ Tom said.  ‘Billions of times over.’

‘Why the hell do the Yanks want it?’ Dave said.  ‘It’s an outdoor oven in the middle of nothing.’

‘That ain’t hot,’ Bryk rumbled from the front.  ‘It’s warm.  And at least there’s water to cool off in.’

‘Yeah,’ Dave said.  ‘But crocodiles?’

‘We’ll take care of them,’ Bryk said, and his face cracked into a rough smile.

‘The military
is
used to worse,’ Tom said.  ‘And this provides them with a strategically powerful position to support the war in the Middle East.’

‘So what about all the fishing boats?’ Jenny said to Tom.  ‘What’s with the refugees.’

‘I think I can answer that,’ Dave said.  ‘It’s a
mutually beneficial arrangement
, isn’t it?  You love those.  The refugees get a green and gold card, and in return, they supply a workforce to America’s development of the area.  How close is that?’

‘Green and gold card,’ Tom said, nodding. ‘I like that.  So yes, the refugees are given safe passage, with the help of our Indonesian neighbours, and they become free settlers of the NASAR.’

‘How big is the NASAR?’  Jenny said.

Tom smiled.  ‘Oh, just the tip.’

Tom delved into intricate detail of the plan for the development of NASAR as the plane commenced its landing approach.  The initial influx of refugees, originating from the Middle East, Africa and Asia — but funnelled through Indonesia — would number between ten and fifteen thousand.  There were two thousand US soldiers on the ground to manage the region.  As infrastructure developed, those numbers would rise to fifty thousand refugees and five thousand troops in the space of two years.  Mixed into that would be civilians from the US and Australia.  Rio Tinto still had significant holdings in the area, bauxite mines currently on care-and-maintenance, and the US government had been able to reach favourable terms on the purchase of those assets.  A number involving the word
billions
was mentioned, but such figures were beyond Dave’s comprehension.

Crucially, the Australian public had not yet been informed of the deal.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Dave said.  ‘You’re selling part of the country—’

‘Leasing,’ Tom interrupted.

‘Fine,
leasing
part of the country to the United States, and the electorate hasn’t been informed?’

‘This is a trial lease.  The deal will be ratified in parliament.’

‘You seriously think it will get through?  The Coalition might push it, but there’s no way you’ll get Labor on board.  Or the Greens.’

‘It’s already done,’ Tom said quietly. ‘They know it’s their only shot.  Of course, there will be dissent.  Anger.  The QTA, for example, will not be crazy about the plan.’

‘Do they already know?’ Jenny said.

‘They suspect,’ Tom said.  ’They know a bit, but they’re apt to fill the unknown spaces with fear and bullshit.  But when it all comes out, yeah … they’ll be pissed.’

Jenny found Dave’s fingers and squeezed.  Her hands were damp while his were dry.

‘Your hands are sweaty,’ Dave said.  ’Your hands are never sweaty.’

‘Must be the pregnancy,’ she said.  ’What does this mean, Dave?  I can’t … I can’t get my head around this.’

Dave looked over at Tom, now seated and belted in.  ‘We’re in danger, aren’t we?  We’re targets.’

Tom gave Dave his apologetic, shit-eating smile.  ‘Sorry.  You will be targets.  Even though you’re not involved, because of me … painted with the same brush, you know?  And the business with James Cain.  Even though it’s not connected, and technically neither is any of the other nasty business which followed … the media won’t care.  The opponents won’t care, nor the radicals or the habitual haters.  You will be re-branded, both of you, with the NASAR stamp.’

‘Well,’ Jenny said, ‘that’s just fucking great, isn’t it?’

‘So what are you suggesting?’ Dave said.  ‘We live up here?  Become citizens of NASAR?  Do you want us to promote the place?’

‘Oh, fuck no,’ Tom said, his politician’s mask unable to hide just how appalled he was by that suggestion.  ‘I want you two to get out of here, out of the country.  There’s a jet down there fuelled up and ready to take you straight to LA, if you want to.’

Jenny and Dave looked at each other.  Jenny smiled, flipped a shrug and raised an eyebrow.  ‘You know where I stand on this.  What say you?’

‘They’ll love you,’ Tom said to Dave.  ‘They’ll forgive the Cain jump because of what you did in Byron, fighting on despite your injuries.  They eat that shit up!  There are all kinds of opportunities for you over there, brother.  All
kinds
.’

Dave didn’t care so much about the
opportunities
.  He cared about this beautiful woman next to him, and the life she carried.  He made up his mind between Sydney and Byron that he’d go wherever Jenny wanted to — if she’d have him.

‘You don’t need to sell it to me, Tom,’ Dave said.  ‘Jenny already did that.’

Jenny looked like she was trying to hold back tears as she squeezed his hand hard enough to pop his knuckles, and when he leaned across to hug her he felt her let go.  So they would go to America, pick up their life over there.  Did he care that he would disappoint so many Australians who looked to him for inspiration, who saw him as a role model, who invested energy and sometimes money in him, in his image?  How would they cope when he just walked away from it all?

He found that he didn’t care, not even enough to upset his warm steady heartbeat as he held his love, the future mother of his child, his life.  His heart didn’t falter, not even a flutter.

Thank you for reading.  Really.

If you’d like to leave a review, there should be a prompt on the next page turn or two.  All reviews are gratefully received.  I can also be found at
www.infinitemonkeyrumble.com
, or on Twitter (p_fenton).

P.A. Fenton, August 2015.