The Fifth Season (24 page)

Fighting back tears, Lily had cut classes, returning home early, feigning illness when her surprised aunt noticed her enter their apartment. Even as she lay awake that night, her soaked pillow evidence of the torment which had ripped her heart, Lily felt little animosity, only extreme sadness towards her former friend, Hani. The explosive confrontation of just hours before continued to pervade her thoughts, preventing sleep and she cried, again, smothering her choking sobs with the pillow. Finally, in the early morning hours sheer exhaustion thankfully carried her away, her convo-luted dreams even more distressing than the reality of the day before.

She overslept and, when woken by her aunt who immediately became concerned with Lily's red, swollen eyes, Lily complained that she had been awake most of the night, suffering from stomach cramps. Her understanding aunt had placed her arms lovingly around her niece, and insisted that she remain home for the day. At first, Lily had protested, then finally acquiesced as flashes of the frightening confrontation came flooding back.

She clung to her aunt tightly, comforted by her presence. Secure in the knowledge that she was safe, she lay back in her bed and rested, oblivious to events unfolding as she slept, events, which would not only adversely affect Lily's future and those of her race, but would also dramatically change the course of Indonesia's history.

It was the Twelfth day in May.

Crouching low, he selected a position which would provide not only adequate cover, but also a clear view of the street and the buildings across the way, and waited.

The Special Forces
Kopassus
sharpshooter knew that the others from his team would be similarly situated along the roof tops, their weapons identical to the one which he now held, wrapped in gray cloth, the color of the Police uniform he now wore. Suparman removed the sacking and inspected the Steyr. It was not his first choice for the job at hand, but as his targets would be relatively close, he was satisfied that the weapon would do the job. He checked the 1.5x optic sights out of habit, then settled back to wait for the streets to fill with demonstrators, as he knew they would.

* * * *

At first, Hani Purwadira had resisted calls to join the student action group, fearing discovery by her father. She was aware that many of the other generals' children had been secretly encouraged to participate in the demonstrations by their fathers, and she was tired of the whispers, accepting that she would never really have any close friends unless she joined with the others in voicing their opinions.

Hani had required little persuasion to take a position against those considered responsible for corrupting the Indonesian leadership. Naïve to the core, she fell in behind her friends calling for an end to Chinese dominance of the Indonesian economy, accusing them of promoting corrupt practices which kept the Suhapto government in power. Hani was not ashamed to admit that she had always harbored such feelings towards the Chinese, recalling how, as a young child when her father was still quite junior in rank, the Purwadira family was poor, and depended on handouts from the local shopkeepers and traders, for their survival. As she had grown older, Hani had become resentful of their control, their wealth, and their academic achievements. It had taken little to unleash her suppressed, racial sentiments, pleased for the opportunity to demonstrate her true feelings.

Of course, she dared not reveal her new role as a student activist to her parents. Her mother would have been horrified, and the thought of her father's reaction, should someone tell, tempted her to reconsider. It had been Wanti's constant sniping which had finally won her over, and as it seemed harmless enough, she abandoned her former position of non-involvement, throwing herself energetically into campus political activities.

Hani had admitted privately that she was pleased with the changing political mood in her country, although her relatively immature mind had yet to consider the consequences of this. It had not entered Hani's head that her own family might also suffer from such drastic change, particularly in the event the nation's military leadership implemented reform.

Unaware that growing and divisive cracks within the armed forces had prompted many of the country's high-ranking officers to urge their own children to join their fellow students on the streets, students of Hani's ilk rushed in blindly, in some instances becoming even more aggressive than their peers.

That morning, Hani had eagerly joined the many thousands of students, gathered in preparation for their march to demonstrate against the Suhapto Government. The air was filled with an almost carnival atmosphere as the students laughed at each others' placards, exercising a freedom of speech hitherto unknown in the Republic.

‘Here, Hani,'
one of the third year students called, taking her by the arm,
‘you can help hold this banner.'
Happy to be now included as one of their number, Hani stood beside several other female students and took hold of one end of a banner painted with the slogan,
Who elected Suhapto?

Somebody pushed from behind, then giggled, causing Hani to turn.

‘Hello there!'
Wanti called, surprised to see her friend participating.

‘What will your father say?'
she teased. Hani merely laughed, the mood lifting her spirits even more than before. There was a sense of growing euphoria as they all started to chant, proudly holding their banners and placards high for the people lining the streets to see.

* * * *

At first, to her untrained foreign ears, the garbled cries made little sense.

‘Down with Suhapto! Down with KKN!'
Mary Jo heard them call, in unison.

‘Down with Nepotism, Collusion and Corruption!'
She heard them chant, learning from Anne, her assistant, what it all meant.

‘What are they saying?' she shouted, caught up in the excitement as banners and placards carried high above the student lines bravely declared their opposition to the government.

‘
KKN
means
Kolusi
,
Korupsi
and
Nepotisme
,' she heard Anne explain, forced to yell, her eyes misty as she made little effort to reflect her own opinion and support for the massive wave of humanity sweeping down the street.

‘Keep up, Anne!' she shouted, re-loading and passing the cartridge to her assistant. Anne did so, becoming the American journalist's shadow as she darted around, crossing through the student lines, crouching, then holding her camera high for angle opportunity as the waves of young men and women washed past, determined to be heard.

‘Over here!' Mary Jo urged, forcing her way through the spectators lining the streets as tens of thousands of students swarmed off the campus demanding the resignation of their President. She kept shooting, each frame recording the historical event, as students carried their message to the people. Mary Jo ignored the presence of other foreign media faces as they too dashed around with their cumbersome equipment, catching the historic scene for CNN and other leading television broadcasters. She reloaded, moving with the main body of demonstrators, conscious of the growing presence of uniforms along the way.

The chanting grew in intensity, fueled by the appearance of the military. Mary Jo's concern that a confrontation was inevitable caused her to move away from the advancing column. As she searched for a more advantageous position to continue filming, it became increasingly difficult to maintain her footing as spectators crowded the footpaths to view the spectacle. Their calls of encouragement added to the cacophonous assembly, their combined chants becoming a roar.

‘Down with corruption! Down with manipulators!'
they cried out in unison, the demonstrators' numbers swelling to uncontrollable proportions as the spectators joined the column of students. Towards the center, Hani's group held their banner high, chanting as they marched, reveling in the mass excitement.

‘Bring back justice! Bring back our rights!'
their voices called, rising to an incredible level as they left the university's perimeter and entered the busy street. There they were confronted by the police, and for a moment the demonstration faltered. Mary Jo, her height an added advantage, captured the moment as she held her camera over the heads of those blocking her path. A student leader called out loudly, and immediately the chanting recommenced.

‘Down with corruption! Bring back our rights!'
they screamed, surging forward to push their way though the barricade of intimidating anti-riot troops.

‘Go back to your campus!'
the officer ordered, standing in the middle of the street, directly in the demonstrators' path. Behind and to both sides, rows of anti-riot police stood ready, their see-through shields held in anticipation of the inevitable hail of rocks they knew the students carried, and would throw without the slightest encouragement. Tear gas canisters appeared, and Mary Jo knew then that the police were determined to end the demonstration right there.

‘Turn back!'
the police captain screamed again, his voice drowned amidst the chorus of anti-government voices descending upon him and his baton-carrying troops. The wave of protesters threatened to engulf the officer, and he panicked.

‘Fire!'
he screamed, pointing with his pistol. The squad directly to his left raised their weapons and fired, aiming low so that their rubber bullets would hit the students below the waist. The first volley shattered the air, the shock stunning the students in their tracks.

* * * *

Above, and hidden behind the concrete wall overlooking the sudden confusion, the
Kopassus
Special Forces sniper selected a target and gently squeezed the trigger, releasing his deadly missile at a speed of some eight hundred meters per second. He hadn't even required the scope; he could see the student's head clearly, even without the sights. Somewhere down amongst the terrified demonstrators a young second year student turned, his face covered in grotesque surprise as the air around suddenly exploded with a distinctive pop, and he spun, then collapsed to the ground.

* * * *

‘My god, they're shooting!'
someone cried out loudly.

‘They're shooting! They're shooting!'
others joined in as the students attempted to disperse, their escape blocked by the sheer mass of their own numbers.

‘I'm hit!'
one student screamed, the impact throwing him to the ground where others tripped over his body, attempting to flee.

‘They're using real bullets!'
one of the third year students cried, dragging a wounded boy out of harm's way. He too, fell, struck viciously in the head by an over-zealous, baton-waving policeman. Panic swept through their columns as the students realized that their comrades were not falling just to rubber bullets. Within a few, brief moments, the street exploded into a battle-ground as the more militant students hurled missiles in response to the attack. Five policemen fell under the first hail of rocks, only to be replaced by others who advanced, shooting blindly at the sea of white shirts before them. The air filled with screams as gunfire continued to cut through the young bodies, struggling to escape the deadly bullets.

‘Help me! Help me!'
Hani cried out, terrified as she scrambled back to her feet after being knocked viciously to the street. As she rose, a soldier swung at the girl next to her, bludgeoning the young student repeatedly with his baton.

‘Stop it! Please stop it!'
she cried, horrified as the attack continued, even as the bloodied girl lay unconscious on the ground. Someone pushed, and Hani fell heavily, her knees hitting the tarred ground as she reached out to protect herself from the fall.

‘Hani! Hani!'
she heard someone cry, and before she could scramble back to her feet, she was hit cruelly from behind, and collapsed in pain.

As she lay there, stunned, the dust rising from the dirty street choking her nostrils, she stared, horrified, at the almost surreal picture before her. From her angled perspective, thousands of legs scurried through her blurred line of vision, their owners' panicked screams a thunderous roll as they pounded the ground in their endeavors to escape the savage onslaught. She thought she could hear more gunfire but, at that moment, Hani lost consciousness as she was brutally kicked by one of the advancing troops.

* * * *

Corporal Suparman aimed again, this time deep into the University grounds. The 5.65 mm round ball found its target, tumbling as designed, tearing the soft tissue as it ripped through the student's body, the wound at the point of exit the size of a man's fist. Satisfied with the result, the sniper then covered his weapon and retreated back down the concrete stairwell to the ground floor. As he exited from the rear of the building, screaming spectators fleeing in terror provided sufficient distraction for the soldier to escape, unnoticed, arriving at the prearranged point where he regrouped with the others in his team.

* * * *

Back on the street, the real police continued to fire rubber bullets into the student rally, while others advanced swinging their truncheons indiscriminately.

Mary Jo had sensibly retreated a short distance from the bloody scene, continuing to film as the fighting continued. Across the road, two young women had taken refuge in a roadside telephone booth. Their screams were ignored as two soldiers smashed their way through the glass door, viciously clubbing their victims until they fell amongst the broken glass, unconscious. As Mary Jo turned her attention to a number of police gathered around one of their victims, repeatedly kicking the man's head, another volley of shots rang out, and she ducked, instinctively.