we had to do was to keep them going. The atmosphere rapidly became stifling, but we had time to replace the ventilator fan now, and when that was set going, things improved. After a while, I momentarily switched off the fan blowing on to the armature to feel if the ropes round it were getting too hot, and was rewarded by the sight of a whiff of steam rising from the windings.
At about four o’clock there was another air raid, and Suparto went up to find out what was happening. To us, it sounded as if the planes had returned to the same target as before, and I was terrified lest they should succeed in cutting off the power supply to the fans; but this time the lights did not even flicker. Osman and Alwi said, gleefully, that it was because the enemy were such timid pilots, but I was not so sure. Isolated, easy to identify and, doubtless, undefended, the power station was a much simpler target than the Air House. If they had really been after the power station, I thought, even those pilots would have been able to hit it. When Suparto returned he was blandly uncommunicative; however, I was beginning to know him, and I thought I detected a hint of satisfaction in his manner. For him, at any rate, things might be going according to plan.
At five o’clock we turned off the fans and the blow lamps and began the task of reassembling. The windings felt dry outside, but that meant little. Even if there were nothing else wrong with them, there might still be enough damp inside to break down the insulation. I should have liked to cook them longer, but Suparto would not allow it. I tried to persuade him that it was better to have a generator that did work at seven rather than one that did not work at six; but he merely shrugged.
I could see why, too. From his point of view, it did not matter whether the generator worked or not; all that mattered was that the verbose, ridiculous but dangerous Sanusi should continue to trust him until it was too late to withdraw from the trap that had been so carefully set. Sanusi had ordered me to repair the generator by sundown. For my sake, Suparto hoped that I would succeed in doing so; but if I failed, he had no intention of sharing the blame with me. As a loyal servant of the Nasjah Government, a patriotic agent provocateur, his responsibility was to the other General, the one he had been with in the garden of the New Harmony Club, the General who was now on his way to close the jaws of the trap, and liquidate Sanusi and his National Freedom Party once and for all.
The reassembly went far too well for my liking. I wanted difficulties and delays; I wanted to postpone the moment when the whole thing would be started up and I should know for certain that I had failed. But Osman and Alwi worked with feverish efficiency. Every part fitted neatly into place first time; every nut went on to every bolt as if it had been machined by an instrument-maker; Osman even began to sing as he worked. When I told him to stop it, he giggled happily.
At a little after five thirty, we were ready to test. I held the no-volts circuit-breaker trip plate into position, closed the circuit and told Osman to start up.
The diesel fired within about ten seconds. When it was up to speed, I let the trip plate go. It dropped instantly, the breaker flew out with a bang and the diesel chuffed to a standstill.
There was a horrified silence. I thought that Osman was going to burst into tears. Suparto raised his eyebrows.
“Well, Mr. Fraser?”
I took no notice of him. I was not so worried now; I knew that there was power there, because I had seen the meters kick. There just had not been enough to hold the circuit-breaker in.
I nodded to Osman. “Start up again.”
When it started this time I kept my finger on the trip plate and watched the meters. The voltage was all over the place and I guessed that there was still a lot of damp in the windings; but the probability now was that the heat of the diesel and the heat generated in the windings themselves would gradually complete the drying-out process; either that, or the insulation would break down disastrously. I kept the trip plate up. After about twenty minutes’ running the voltage had steadied appreciably. I gave it another five minutes and then tried releasing the plate. It held.
Osman grinned.
“Is it all right?” Suparto asked.
“I think it may be. It’s not delivering anything like full power yet, but it’ll improve, I think.”
“The General will be pleased. I congratulate you, Mr. Fraser.”
“The rest of this water ought to be mopped up. The drier the air in here, the better.”
“That shall be attended to.” He glanced at Osman and Alwi. “One of you had better stay here to supervise the work. I will send men down.”
“I will stay,” said Osman. “Alwi should test the transmitter.”
I was covered in grease and filth from head to foot, my shoes were full of water, my muscles ached and my legs were trembling. Suddenly, I felt so tired that I had to go over to the stairs and sit down.
Suparto followed me. “Are you sick, Mr. Fraser?”
“No, just tired. I didn’t have much sleep last night, you may remember.”
“But not too tired to report to the General, I hope?”
“Can’t you report to him?”
“It will be better for you and for the woman if you speak to him yourself.”
“All right.”
Alwi had already gone ahead. Suparto and I mounted the stairs slowly. When we reached the guard on the stairs, Suparto told him to report back to his N.C.O. The man followed us up to the ground floor, where Suparto made arrangements for the sub-basement to be cleaned up. The lift was working again now. It was the kind you operated yourself. When we were inside and the gates were closed, I asked Suparto about the air raids we had heard below.
“Were they trying for the power station?”
“No. The road and rail bridges over the river east of the city.”
“Did they destroy them?”
“They damaged them badly enough.”
“Badly enough for what?”
“Enough to prevent a retreat to the hills before the city is completely surrounded.”
“Doesn’t he realise that?”
Suparto pressed the button for the fifth floor and the lift started up.
“The General and Colonel Roda place a more optimistic interpretation on the attacks. They see them as a move to delay the Government troops who have mutinied, and who are on their way to join us here in the city.”
“That interpretation having been suggested by you, I take it?” When he said nothing, I asked: “Have any Government troops, in fact, mutinied?”
“The loyalty of one infantry unit was considered doubtful. It was disarmed yesterday.”
The lift stopped and we got out.
The General was preparing to leave for the foreign press conference at the Presidential Palace, and I had to wait in the outer office. While I was there, a station monitor speaker in the corner began to emit a frying sound and then the xylophone signal came on. Alwi had got the transmitter working again.
When the General appeared at the door of his office, I saw why I had been kept waiting. He had changed into a clean uniform and was wearing a tie. Roda and Suparto followed him out.
I stood up and the General came over to me. He nodded graciously; his thoughts were already in the Presidential Palace.
“Major Suparto has told me of your hard work,” he said. He glanced at the monitor speaker. “We can hear for ourselves that it has been successful, eh, Colonel?”
“As we expected, the tuan was too modest about his qualifications.” Roda grinned.
I ignored him. “I am glad to have been of service, General.”
“Sunda has need of good engineers,” he replied; “especially those of proved loyalty. It is my intention to set up intensive technical training schemes for the youth of our country. For a man like you, Mr. Fraser, there might be exceptional opportunities for advancement here.”
“You are very kind.”
“Those who serve us well will be well rewarded. Do not forget that, Mr. Fraser.”
“I have every reason to remember it, General.”
“Ah yes. We made a bargain. It shall be kept.”
