Stuart Slade: A Mighty Endeavor

“And you want our agreement to move now, I suppose.” Keswick sounded amused but actually his mind was running over the prospect that had been outlined. It was unexpected and completely outside any of the analyses his staff had made. Yet, it had a hypnotic fascination.

“Of course not. Pressuring you to make a decision would be foolish. We cannot persuade you to make a decision, either here and now or at any time. You must make that decision on your own and for your own reasons. And in your own time. We stand ready to provide any information you need and to invest in the facilities you will require. But, we cannot interfere with the decisions that you might make. To do so would undermine the relationship which we propose to you. What we do suggest is that each of you open an office here and transfer the critical records and other things you need to continue your business to that office. If you choose to move to Bangkok, then your new headquarters will stand ready. If you do not, a regional office with a full reserve copy of your records will be a valuable property in its own right. Either way, a fall-back plan is always a wise precaution.”

Keswick nodded again. “That is certainly possible, but any final decision on the location of our headquarters would have to be attendant upon a demonstration of your country’s ability to secure and protect our investment here. Other than that, I have two questions, Madam Ambassador. How soon can Jardine Matheson set up this regional office here, and will you be involved in running this move?”

“Yes, I will be personally responsible for seeing that any move you choose to make. There will be no problem in you transferring key members of your staff here. We will welcome them and make them part of our community. As to how soon you can make your move, some property developers here have started to build an office block that seems entirely suited to your needs. It is called Sukothai House and has its own generators and air conditioning. I have the details of it here.” She handed over a leaflet that showed a typical European-style office building; one she had designed and built by European architects and paid for it out of her personal resources.

Keswick glanced at the sheet and then read it more carefully. That The Ambassador had it to hand was the factor that decided him. “Madam Ambassador, please advise the developers that this building is to be known as Jardine Matheson House and that we will take it in its entirety. Do you allow us to purchase buildings or should we lease?”

“You may purchase the building. The land it is on must be leased but we will offer lease terms that amount to your ownership. I assume Jardine Matheson (Thailand) is now an operable concern?”

“At the very least.” Keswick covertly cast his eyes around the room.

Now that the Princely Hong had jumped into the offer being made, the others would follow. That meant Jardine Matheson was in the lead and would be well-established by the time the others got here. Also, he guessed that his lead would place the Ambassador in his debt and he had a feeling she always honored her debts.

Once her guests had departed for the Oriental Hotel, Suriyothai relaxed and stared out of the window. In her mind, the strange display formed again, a waterfall of lights and threads that represented the various options for the future. Now the tenuous thread that she had identified earlier was glowing much more strongly than before. What had been a pious hope a couple of days before was now a solid possibility.

“I have brought tea, your Highness.” Lani bowed deeply as she poured, taking great care that her head did not rise above that of Suriyothai.

“The meeting went well?”

“Very well. We have made many promises and now we must keep them. Also, we made a few boasts that are no more than that. Boasts remain just words until there are actions to back them up. Now, we must look for the excuse to take such actions. We said we had the finest army in South East Asia. We shall prove it by destroying French power in IndoChina. Once our military ability is demonstrated, the Hongs will come here and they will bring economic strength with them.”

“Excuse me, could you tell me how to find the library?”

The soft voice broke through David Newton’s daydream and focused his attention on the speaker. A young woman with jet-black hair, strongly arched eyebrows and high cheekbones. There weren’t that many women in the University and very few that attractive. “Umm, there’s several, depending on which school you’re in. What are you studying?”

“Commercial art. I’m just starting. And you?”

“Chemical engineering. Second year. My name’s David Newton. The library belonging to the Fine Art School is along this way. I’m heading that way myself since the Engineering School is on the next floor. I’ll show you where it is.”

“I’m Rachael Cohen. Pleased to meet you David. To be honest, I was afraid when I got here. Everybody seemed very remote and distant. Nobody seems to want to talk.”

“I think everybody is a bit scared right now, to be honest. With the Armistice coming the way it did and all. We’d all assumed our call-up papers were on the way and we’d be Army conscripts by the end of the year. Now, the war is over we don’t know what is happening.”

“The war isn’t over, David. It’s just started. It has a long, long time to run yet. And then there’s the greater war as well.” Rachael looked at him out of the corners of her eyes, measuring him to see how he reacted to the comment.

“I agree, That Man has made a horrible mistake and we’ll all pay dearly for it.” Newton was suddenly aware of how quickly the phrase “That Man” with reference to Lord Halifax had slipped into the language. He wasn’t even sure how it had happened. “What do you mean by ‘the greater war’?”

“Why, the war between capitalists and proletariat of course. Between the exploiters and the exploited. The class struggle will go on no matter what That Man says.”

The venom behind her use of ‘That Man’ was startling. “Well, I see things a bit differently, Rachael. I think that the Nazis will kill us all, capitalist and worker alike, if we don’t finish them off first. We’ve all got to stick together or we’ll all be wiped out. Look, this is the Fine Arts library. Perhaps we can talk a bit more about this later. Over tea in the canteen, perhaps? My classes finish at five.”

Rachael hesitated. “I have a bit of a problem with the food offered at the canteen. It’s not kosher, you see. But I suppose tea will be all right. See you there at six?”

Sir Humphrey Appleday drained his glass, but it was no good. He had come over from London as part of a delegation with the British Purchasing Commission and had consulted with Phillip Stuyvesant on the matter of small craft for the Royal Navy. This evening was his first opportunity since the catastrophic news from London to talk over more pressing matters. There was the mystery of Winston Churchill, for example. The man appeared to have dropped off the face of the earth; no mean achievement for such a rabid publicity-hound. Unfortunately, Appleday had run into Michael Collins first and the two had exchanged ill-tempered words after a little finely-judged provocation from Nell.

Igrat had intercepted him with a full glass and her most seductive smile. She might have a morally flexible outlook on life, even by the standards of New York, but she was an excellent hostess. Appleday sighed gently, his anger leaving him. It was simply impossible for a man to remain angry when Igrat was plying him with drink; although in most cases, her victim would have been wiser to remain angry, alert and sober. They had usually paid for their mistake with their wallets and, on one recent occasion, all their clothes. In that case, her victim had been an aspiring New York politician with strongly pro-Nazi views. One call to a newspaper had followed another to his wife and the scandal had ruined him. Appleday returned her smile with a rueful grin, “I really walked into that little dispute, didn’t I?”