Rage (4 page)
Authors: Wilbur Smith
When they left the men with the port and Hauptmanns and went through to the ladies' room, Molly pulled Tara aside, bubbling over with excitement.
âI've been dying to get you alone all evening,' she whispered. âYou'll never guess who is in the Cape at this very moment.'
âTell me.'
âThe Secretary of the African National Congress â that's who. Moses Gama, that's who.'
Tara went very still and pale and stared at her.
âHe's coming to our home to talk to a small group of us, Tara. I invited him, and he especially asked for you to be present. I didn't know you knew him.'
âI met him only onceâ' she corrected herself, âtwice.'
âCan you come?' Molly insisted. âIt'll be best if Shasa does not know about it, you understand.'
âWhen?'
âSaturday evening, eight o'clock.'
âShasa will be away and I'll be there,' Tara said. âI wouldn't miss it for the world.'
S
ean Courtney was the stalwart of the Western Province Preparatory School First XIV, or Wet Pups, as the school was known. Quick and strong, he ran in four tries against the Rondebosch juniors and converted them himself, while his father and two younger brothers stood on the touchline and yelled encouragement.
ean Courtney was the stalwart of the Western Province Preparatory School First XIV, or Wet Pups, as the school was known. Quick and strong, he ran in four tries against the Rondebosch juniors and converted them himself, while his father and two younger brothers stood on the touchline and yelled encouragement.
After the final whistle blew Shasa lingered just long enough to congratulate his son, with an effort restraining himself from hugging the sweaty grinning youngster with grass stains on his white shorts and a graze on one knee. A display like that in front of Sean's peers would have mortified him horribly. Instead they shook hands.
âWell played, sport. I'm proud of you,' he said. âSorry about this weekend, but I'll make it up to you.' And although the expression of regret was sincere, Shasa felt a buoyancy of his spirits as he drove out to the airfield at Youngsfield. Dicky, his erk, had the aircraft out of the hangar and ready for him on the hardstand.
Shasa climbed out of the Jaguar and stood with his hands in his pockets and the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, staring at the sleek machine with rapture.
It was a DH98 Mosquito fighter-bomber. Shasa had bought it at one of the RAF disposal sales at Biggin Hill and had it completely stripped and overhauled by De Havilland trained riggers. He had even had them re-glue the sandwich construction of the wooden bodywork with the new Araldite wonder glue. The original Rodux adhesives had proved unreliable under tropical conditions. Stripped of all armaments and military fittings, the Mosquito's already formidable performance had been considerably enhanced. Not even Courtney Mining could afford one of the new civilian jet-engined aircraft, but this was the next best thing.
The beautiful machine crouched on the hardstand like a falcon at bate, the twin Rolls-Royce Merlin engines ready
to roar into life and hurtle her into the blue. Blue was her colour, sky blue and silver; she shone in the bright Cape sunlight and on her fuselage where once the RAF roundel had been was now emblazoned the Courtney Company logo, a stylized silver diamond, its facets entwined with the Company's initials.
to roar into life and hurtle her into the blue. Blue was her colour, sky blue and silver; she shone in the bright Cape sunlight and on her fuselage where once the RAF roundel had been was now emblazoned the Courtney Company logo, a stylized silver diamond, its facets entwined with the Company's initials.
âHow is the port number two magneto?' Shasa demanded of Dicky as he sauntered across in his oily overalls. The little man bridled.
âTicking over like a sewing machine,' he answered. He loved the machine even more than Shasa did, and any imperfection, no matter how minor, wounded him deeply. When Shasa reported one, he took it very badly. He helped Shasa load his briefcase, overnight bag and guncase into the bomb bay, which had been converted into a luggage compartment.
âAll tanks are full,' he said, and stood aside looking superior as Shasa insisted on checking them visually, and then made a fuss of his walk-around inspection.
âShe'll do,' Shasa agreed at last and could not resist stroking the wing, as though it were the limb of a lovely woman.
Shasa switched to oxygen at eleven thousand feet and levelled out at Angels twenty, grinning into his oxygen mask at the old Air Force slang. He tuned her for cruise, carefully watching the exhaust gas temperatures and engine revs, and then settled back to enjoy it.
Enjoy was too mild a term for it. Flying was an exultation of spirit and a fever in his blood. The immense lion-tawny continent drifted by beneath him, washed by a million suns and burned by the hot herb-scented Karoo winds, its ancient hide riven and wrinkled and scarred with donga and canyon and dried riverbed. Only up here, high above it, did Shasa truly realize how much he was a part of it, how deep was his love for it. Yet it was a hard land and
cruel, and it bred hard men, black and white, and he knew that he was one of them. There is no place for weaklings here, he thought, only the strong can flourish.
cruel, and it bred hard men, black and white, and he knew that he was one of them. There is no place for weaklings here, he thought, only the strong can flourish.
Perhaps it was the pure oxygen he breathed, enhanced by the ecstasy of flight, but his mind seemed clearer up here. Issues that had been obscure became lucid, uncertainties resolved, and the hours sped away as swiftly as the lovely machine streaked across the blue so that when he landed at Johannesburg's civilian airport, he knew with certainty what had to be done. David Abrahams was waiting for him, lanky and skinny as ever, but he was balding a little and he had taken to wearing gold-rimmed spectacles which gave him a perpetually startled expression. Shasa jumped down off the wing of the Mosquito and they embraced happily. They were closer than brothers. Then David patted the aircraft's wing.
âWhen do I get to fly her again?' he asked wistfully. David had got a DFC in the Western Desert and a bar to it in Italy. He had been credited with nine kills and ended the war as a wing commander, while Shasa had been a mere squadron leader when he had lost his eye in Abyssinia and been invalided home.
âShe's too good for you,' Shasa told him and slung his luggage into the back seat of David's Cadillac.
As David drove out through the airfield gates they exchanged family news. David was married to Mathilda Janine, Tara Courtney's younger sister, so David and Shasa were brothers-in-law. Shasa boasted about Sean and Isabella without mentioning his other two sons and then they went on to the real objects of their meeting.
These, in order of importance, were, first, the decision whether or not to exercise the option on the new Silver River mining prospect in the Orange Free State. Then there was the trouble with the company's chemical factory on the Natal coast. A local pressure group was kicking up a rumpus about poisoning the sea bed and reefs in the area
where the factory was discharging effluent into the sea. And, finally, there was David's crazy fixation, from which Shasa was finding it difficult to dislodge him, that they should spend something over a quarter of a million pounds on one of those new elephantine electric calculators.
where the factory was discharging effluent into the sea. And, finally, there was David's crazy fixation, from which Shasa was finding it difficult to dislodge him, that they should spend something over a quarter of a million pounds on one of those new elephantine electric calculators.
âThe Yanks did all the calculations for the atomic bomb with one of them,' David argued. âAnd they call them computers, not calculators,' he corrected Shasa.
âCome on, Davie, what are we going to blow up?' Shasa protested. âI'm not designing an A-bomb.'
âAnglo-American have one. It's the wave of the future, Shasa. We'd better be on it.'
âIt's a quarter-million-pound wave, old son,' Shasa pointed out. âJust when we need every penny for Silver River.'
âIf we'd had one of these computers to analyse the geological drilling reports from Silver River, we'd have already saved ourselves almost the entire cost of the thing, and we'd be a lot more certain of our final decision than we are now.'
âHow can a machine be better than a human brain?'
âJust come and have a look at it,' David pleaded. âThe university has just installed an IBM 701. I have arranged a demonstration for you this afternoon.'
âOK, Davie,' Shasa capitulated. âI'll look, but that doesn't mean I'm buying.'
The IBM supervisor in the basement of the engineering faculty building was no more than twenty-six years of age.
âThey're all kids,' David explained. âIt's a young people's science.'
The supervisor shook hands with Shasa, and then removed her horn-rimmed spectacles. Suddenly Shasa's interest in electronic computers burgeoned. Her eyes were clear bright green and her hair was the colour of wild honey made from mimosa blossom. She wore a green sweater of tight-fitting angora wool, and a tartan skirt which left her
smooth tanned calves bare. It was immediately obvious that she was an expert, and she answered all Shasa's questions without hesitation in a tantalizing Southern drawl.
smooth tanned calves bare. It was immediately obvious that she was an expert, and she answered all Shasa's questions without hesitation in a tantalizing Southern drawl.
âMarylee has a Masters in electrical engineering from MIT,' David murmured, and Shasa's initial attraction was spiced with respect.
âIt's so damned big,' he protested. âIt fills the entire basement. The ruddy thing is the size of a four-bedroomed house.'
âCooling,' Marylee explained. âThe heat build-up is enormous. Most of the bulk is oil cooling baffles.'
âWhat are you processing at the moment?'
âProfessor Dart's archaeological material from the Sterk-fontein Caves. We are correlating about two hundred thousand observations of his against over a million from the sites in East Africa.'
âHow long will that take you?'
âWe started the run twenty minutes ago, we'll finish it before we shut down at five o'clock.'
âThat's in fifteen minutes,' Shasa chuckled. âYou're having me on!'
âI wouldn't mind,' she murmured speculatively, and when she smiled her mouth was wide and moist and kissable.
âYou say you shut down at five?' he asked. âWhen do you start up again?'
âEight tomorrow morning.'
âAnd the machine stands idle overnight?'
Marylee glanced down the length of the basement. David was at the other end watching the print-out and the hum of the computer covered their voices.
âThat's right. It will stand idle all tonight. Just like me.' Clearly she was a lady who knew exactly what she wanted, and how to get it. She looked at him directly, challengingly.
âWe can't have that.' Shasa shook his head seriously.
âOne thing my mummy taught me was “Waste not, want not”. I know a place called the Stardust. The band is far beyond belief. I will wager a pound to a weekend in Paris that I can dance you until you plead for mercy.'
âOne thing my mummy taught me was “Waste not, want not”. I know a place called the Stardust. The band is far beyond belief. I will wager a pound to a weekend in Paris that I can dance you until you plead for mercy.'
âIt's a bet,' she agreed as seriously. âBut do you cheat?'
âOf course,' he answered. David was coming back and Shasa went on smoothly and professionally. âWhat about running costs?'
âAll in, including insurance and depreciation, a little under four thousand pounds a month,' she told him with a matching businesslike expression.
As they said goodbye and shook hands, she slipped a card into Shasa's palm. âMy address,' she murmured.
âEight o'clock?' he asked.
âI'll be there,' she agreed.
In the Cadillac, Shasa lit a cigarette and blew a perfect smoke ring that exploded silently against the windscreen.
âOK, Davie, contact the Dean of Engineering first thing tomorrow. Offer to hire that monster all its down time from five o'clock in the evening until eight the next morning, and weekends also. Offer him four thousand a month and point out that he'll get the use of it for free. We'll be paying all his costs.'
David turned to him with a startled expression and almost drove up onto the pavement, then corrected with a wild swing of the wheel.
âWhy didn't I think of that?' he wondered when he had the Cadillac under control.
âYou have to get up earlier.' Shasa grinned and then went on, âOnce we know how much time we will need on the thing, we'll sublet the surplus time to a couple of other non-competitor companies who must be thinking about buying a computer themselves. That way we'll get our own usage free, and when IBM have improved the design and made the damned thing smaller, then we will buy our own.'
âSon of a gun.' David shook his head in awe. âSon of a gun.' Then with sudden inspiration, âI'll get young Marylee on our payrollâ'
âNo,' said Shasa sharply. âGet someone else.'
David glanced at him again and his excitement faded. He knew his brother-in-law too well.
âYou won't be taking up Matty's invitation to dinner this evening, will you?' he asked morosely.
âNot this evening,' Shasa agreed. âGive her my love and apologies.'
âJust be careful. It's a small town and you are a marked man,' David warned as he dropped Shasa off at the Carlton Hotel, where the company kept a permanent suite. âDo you think you will be fit for work tomorrow?'
âEight o'clock,' Shasa told him. âSharp!'
By mutual agreement the dance competition at the Stardust was declared a draw, and Shasa and Marylee got back to his Carlton suite a little after midnight.
Her body was young and smooth and hard and just before she drifted off to sleep with her thick honey-coloured hair spread on his bare chest, she whispered drowsily, âWell, I guess that's about the only thing my IBM 701 can't do for me.'
Shasa was in the Courtney mining offices fifteen minutes before David the next morning. He liked to keep everybody on their toes. Their offices occupied the entire third floor of the Standard Bank building in Commissioner Street. Although Shasa owned a prime piece of real estate on the corner of Diagonal Street opposite the stock exchange and within yelling distance of Anglo-American Corporation's head office, he hadn't yet got around to building on it; any spare money in the company always seemed to be ear-marked for mining options or extensions or other income-producing enterprises.
The young blood on the Courtney executive board was
judicially leavened with a few grey heads. Dr Twentyman-Jones was still there, in an old-fashioned black alpaca jacket and string tie, hiding his affection for Shasa behind a mournful expression. He had run the very first prospect on the H'ani diamond mine for Centaine back in the early twenties and was one of the three most experienced and gifted mining consultants in southern Africa, which meant the world.
judicially leavened with a few grey heads. Dr Twentyman-Jones was still there, in an old-fashioned black alpaca jacket and string tie, hiding his affection for Shasa behind a mournful expression. He had run the very first prospect on the H'ani diamond mine for Centaine back in the early twenties and was one of the three most experienced and gifted mining consultants in southern Africa, which meant the world.
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