than they actually were. As Stark got it, valves would allow the oil to flow into the huge earthen fire walls that surrounded each tank; in turn the floors of these were being mined with fire bombs connected to a central switch in the powerhouse.
“She’ll go like a goddamned torch,” Smith promised. As someone turned on a phonograph and a wailing song of Hindustan filled the room, Smith grimaced and talked louder.
Over his shoulder Stark saw Mike Hawker and Yoshi talking in a corner. The Japanese girl wore a simple, soft green dress and he thought she appeared quite sophisticated. She held her cocktail glass with just the right negligent air, appearing intent on what her burly companion was saying. Someone moved between them, then Hodges’ grating voice broke into his ear.
“I say we ought to blow this thing now and get out while we can. Hawker’s plumb crazy. He doesn’t know how close the Japs are.”
Stark switched his attention back to the assistant superintendent. The latter’s speech had become thick, slurred, and his small, piggish eyes danced curiously, as if out of focus. Swilled to the gills, he thought. Hawker was right; the man was a drunk. He wondered if Hawker was also right about Martha Hodges.
“Maybe the Japs can’t take the island,” Texas Smith cut in.
“Bushwah. What’s to stop ’em? A couple of Limey flak guns, a handful of Colonial troops and nothing else. They’ll breeze in.” Hodges eyed Stark belligerently. “What about it?”
“Hard to say,” he replied evasively.
“Let ’em come,” Texas Smith snorted. “We’ll make this the Alamo in reverse.”
Hodges snickered. “Listen to him. He thinks he’s Davy Crockett.” He gulped the last of his drink and yelled: “Boy, an Irish whiskey.”
A moment later Smith excused himself and Hodges turned belligerently to Stark, saying loudly, “I hear you’ve been making inquiries about Driscoll, the guy that got killed.”
Stark stared at the red face. “The company’s interested,” he replied.
“Hell, people are dying all the time,” Hodges retorted callously.
“But not by murder.” He coldly watched the other for reaction.
“There’s plenty of that, too. Most of these gooks would just as soon slip a knife between your ribs as look at you.”
“How about poisoned darts?” Stark demanded, his voice sharp and intent.
“That, too. It’s these damned Bataks,” Hodges growled.
“Much trouble?” he casually asked.
“Trouble?” Hodges’ eyes seemed to dance again. “Of course there’s trouble. If it ain’t one thing it’s another—these damned gooks will knock us all off before they’re through.”
“Still, there’d have to be a reason . . .”
“Reason, hell. Anything serves as a reason in this country. I could tell you plenty—” Whatever he started to say was broken by Selinda’s sudden appearance.
“The guest of honor . . . I’m afraid we’re neglecting you.” She made a mock bow at Hodges. “Mike promised we wouldn’t talk business tonight, remember?”
“We were just gossiping,” Stark commented.
“And neglecting the girls,” she finished.
“Not by choice. Besides—” he smiled—“the prettiest ones are married.”
“You, too, Mr. Stark,” she demurred severely. “I seem to have heard that line before.”
He laughed, at the same time seeing Hodges sneer.
“I have no doubt of that, Mrs. Hawker,” he gallantly declared.
“For heaven’s sake, call me Selinda.”
“And I’m Joe.”
Hodges turned abruptly away, and her eyes followed him musingly before turning back.
“All right, Joe.” She slipped her arm through his and swung him toward a corner where Tombuk was mixing drinks. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Chatting for a while over a couple of gin slings, he idly asked how long she’d lived in Palembang, noting her hesitancy before answering.
“A little over a year,” she confessed.
“Oh?” He arched his eyes. “Then you haven’t been married long.” He made it a statement.
“The same length of time,” she admitted. “I met Mike in Singapore. Well . . .” She shrugged.
“And he swept you off your feet,” he interjected.
“Something like that.” A distant look clouded her face. “I miss it sometimes.”
“Singapore?”
“Of course.”
“But you’re not sorry?” This time she looked gravely at him while he waited, sensing she was considering her answer.
“I don’t know,” she said finally. “At times I think Palembang’s at the end of the world.”
“It pratically is,” he conceded.
She swung toward him and touched his hand. “Anyway, I’m glad you came.”
“Why?” he asked, sensing he already knew the answer.
“Because of this.” She gestured toward the room. “It’s not often we have an excuse for a party, even a quiet one like this.”
“Quiet?” he politely asked. Hodges was talking with Pete Holden, one of the field supervisors, and his voice had risen above the sound of the phonograph. She laughed as she caught his meaning.
“You’ll have to forgive Jasper,” she explained. “Everyone out here has to have an escape. His is drink.”
“And his wife’s?”
She didn’t answer immediately. The suggestion of amusement touched her lips, slowly breaking into a mischievous smile.
“Why don’t you ask her?” she challenged.
“I’d rather ask you,” Stark told her deliberately.
“About Martha?” Mockery filled her face.
“About you,” he pursued. The look left her face.
“I escape, too,” she answered simply.
“That sounds interesting.”
“Mmmmm . . .” She looked deliciously at him and he was surprised to find himself faintly disturbed and a bit puzzled over the turn the conversation had taken.
He regarded her with new insight; she returned his stare, open-faced, her dark eyes curiously somnolent. When two late guests arrived, a shade of disappointment flicked across her countenance.
She said tonelessly, “The Vandervoorts . . . from the Plaju plant. I’ll introduce you.”
Stark found himself shaking hands with a portly, middle-aged man who spoke with a thick Dutch accent. The fat woman with him was his wife. Releasing Stark’s hand he began apologizing to Selinda for their tardiness, explaining it was due to the preparations for demolishing the plant.
“Poof, the same old excuse,” Selinda facetiously exclaimed.
When the Dutchman stopped laughing, Stark asked how the work was progressing. He began explaining that all the plants on the lower Plaju were being mined for simultaneous destruction, but in the middle of the conversation Hawker broke in and called for drinks.
Stark noticed Selinda had withdrawn to talk with Mrs. Vandervoort and Texas Smith at the other side of the