Island - Aldous Huxley [20]
“I most certainly have,” said Murugan. On his mobile face the triumphant urchin made way for the statesman, grave but condescendingly affable, at a press conference. “Top priority: get this place modernized. Look at what Rendang has been able to do because of its oil royalties.”
“But doesn’t Pala get any oil royalties?” Will questioned with that innocent air of total ignorance which he had found by long experience to be the best way of eliciting information from the simpleminded and the self-important.
“Not a penny,” said Murugan. “And yet the southern end of the island is fairly oozing with the stuff. But except for a few measly little wells for home consumption, the old fogeys won’t do anything about it. And what’s more, they won’t allow anyone else to do anything about it.” The statesman was growing angry; there were hints now in his voice and expression of the Tough Guy. “All sorts of people have made offers—Southeast Asia Petroleum, Shell, Royal Dutch, Standard of California. But the bloody old fools won’t listen.”
“Can’t you persuade them to listen?”
“I’ll damn well make them listen,” said the Tough Guy.
“That’s the spirit!” Then, casually, “Which of the offers do you think of accepting?” he asked.
“Colonel Dipa’s working with Standard of California, and he thinks it might be best if we did the same.”
“I wouldn’t do that without at least getting a few competing bids.”
“That’s what I think too. So does my mother.”
“Very wise.”
“My mother’s all for Southeast Asia Petroleum. She knows the Chairman of the Board, Lord Aldehyde.”
“She knows Lord Aldehyde? But how extraordinary!” The tone of delighted astonishment was thoroughly convincing. “Joe Aldehyde is a friend of mine. I write for his papers. I even serve as his private ambassador. Confidentially,” he added, “that’s why we took that trip to the copper mines. Copper is one of Joe’s sidelines. But of course his real love is oil.”
Murugan tried to look shrewd. “What would he be prepared to offer?”
Will picked up the cue and answered, in the best movie-tycoon style, “Whatever Standard offers plus a little more.”
“Fair enough,” said Murugan out of the same script, and nodded sagely. There was a long silence. When he spoke again, it was as the statesman granting an interview to representatives of the press.
“The oil royalties,” he said, “will be used in the following manner: twenty-five percent of all moneys received will go to World Reconstruction.”
“May I ask,” Will enquired deferentially, “precisely how you propose to reconstruct the world?”
“Through the Crusade of the Spirit. Do you know about the Crusade of the Spirit?”
“Of course. Who doesn’t?”
“It’s a great world movement,” said the statesman gravely. “Like Early Christianity. Founded by my mother.”
Will registered awe and astonishment.
“Yes, founded by my mother,” Murugan repeated, and he added impressively, “I believe it’s man’s only hope.”
“Quite,” said Will Farnaby, “quite.”
“Well, that’s how the first twenty-five percent of the royalties will be used,” the statesman continued. “The remainder will go into an intensive program of industrialization.” The tone changed again. “These old idiots here only want to industrialize in spots and leave all the rest as it was a thousand years ago.”
“Whereas you’d like to go the whole hog. Industrialization for industrialization’s sake.”
“No, industrialization for the country’s sake. Industrialization to make Pala strong. To make other people respect us. Look at Rendang. Within five years they’ll be manufacturing all the rifles and mortars and ammunition they need. It’ll be quite a long time before they can make tanks. But meanwhile they can buy them from Skoda with their oil money.”
“How soon will they graduate to H-bombs?” Will asked ironically.
“They won’t even try,” Murugan answered. “But after all,” he added, “H-bombs aren’t the only absolute weapons.” He pronounced the phrase with relish. It was evident that he found the taste of “absolute weapons” positively delicious. “Chemical and biological weapons—Colonel Dipa calls them the poor man