83 A Delightful Picnic (1/2)
Rafi Susanto wouldn't have made much of an impression on the Christian brothers if they'd met him at that very moment.
He'd woken up before dawn full of apprehension. His subconscious was telling him Cruz had missed Pitcairn, and was adrift somewhere in the Pacific. An itchy rash had developed on the inside of his thighs while he had slept. A sudden flashback took him back to New Year's Eve: he saw himself pouring champagne, and raising a toast. He'd been so happy, so hopeful! And just a couple of days later, everything turned to shit.
These unhappy thoughts and the itchy rash made it impossible to return to sleep. He tossed and turned, and eventually got up and walked down to the beach. His men had painstakingly cleared all the trash from the stretch of sand neighboring the camp; but every night, fresh trash floated in. Susanto walked along the water's edge with his forehead creased in thought, kicking plastic bottles he encountered back into the ocean. Did Cruz make it? What if he didn't? What if he did? How long would they have to wait before help arrived?
Susanto hated waiting; waiting was a waste of time. So as soon as the sky in the east started turning pink, he returned to the camp and woke everyone up. Juan was instructed to prepare an extra hearty breakfast, and to include one of the two remaining cans of sliced pineapple as a morale booster. Unfortunately, the main course was the same as for lunch and dinner: fish and coconut kernels and palm shoots. Although Juan did his best with the spices and herbs at his disposal, that particular dish was rapidly getting old.
Following breakfast Susanto treated himself to a kretek cigarette, noting with alarm he had just eight left. As he inhaled the clove-scented smoke, he reviewed his plan for the day. It included paying a visit to the New World. The prospect scared him, but the prospect of just sitting there on that fucking island doing nothing but waiting for help scared him even more. Rafi Susanto was a doer: he had to keep active. He had to do things, keep moving to stay alive, just like a shark.
He issued a series of stern instructions, sending everyone but James and Candy to their tasks. The crewmen were to continue taking items from the cube; the whores - gather coconuts and anything else that was edible. Then he pulled James to the side for a quick conversation.
”James,” he said rather dramatically, ”I am about to place my life in your hands.”
James didn't look happy when he heard that. Susanto noted this with satisfaction. His steward's unease meant he was fully conscious of the great responsibility placed on his shoulders. Without question, he was the right person to act as Susanto's guardian during the planned excursion into the New World.
”We are going to visit the New World,” he told James. ”But only Candy and I will go all the way. You'll stay here, so that I can use your guy there to communicate. If there's trouble, you'll remove my implant. That's all there is to it.”
”But what about the dinosaurs?” asked James.
”We'll replicate in a different spot. Hopefully, we won't run into any, at least not right away. I need to have a look around over there. I just might get lucky, and find some tiger rock and food to send back here.”
As Susanto had anticipated, the chance to obtain some fresh food immediately won James over. He said:
”You can count on me, sir.”
Susanto nodded and patted his shoulder.
”Get a package together,” he told James. ”Food and drink for three people for the rest of the day, two of those mats, six implants.”
”Six?”
”Just in case, James, just in case. It's good to have backup at all times.”
”Of course, sir,” said James, and scurried off to his task.
Susanto approached Candy, who had been watching him with a new interest ever since he asked her to stay instead of going off with the other whores to gather food. Candy was a realist; being realistic was a must in her profession. She knew she ranked behind Elena, probably behind the two other whores as well. She suspected she'd been asked to stay for a different reason than sex, but she had no idea of what it might be. Candy was somewhat limited in her imagination, and it actually hurt her career not a little. An imaginative, inventive whore was a better whore.
Susanto stopped in front of her and smiled. She tried to read something from that smile, and failed.
”Candy,” Susanto said, ”I have the exquisite pleasure of inviting you to a picnic.”
”A picnic?” said Candy. No one had ever invited her to a picnic before. She wasn't even sure what the word meant. She had a vague idea it involved sitting down on the ground, and eating food out of a bag.
”Yes. We shall have a delightful little excursion down the coast, and relax. It will do me good to get away from this place for a while. It feels like I've been here for years. I'm sure you feel the same.”
”Oh yes,” said Candy happily. ”That will be very nice. I know a perfect spot! A small beach over there.”
She pointed east, and Susanto frowned.
”You mean the east coast? What do you mean, a beach? It's all cliffs.”