Juggernaut

I sipped some whisky. Times change. Because of the political stability, quite a lot of investment money came in, and then with the oil strikes there was still more. After a while the moderates were squeezed out and the Nationalists took over at the next elections. They are a lot more industry orientated. And of course by now Nyala had become self-financing and there were a lot of pickings to be had. And that's the nub -had by whom?'

'We know a lot of pockets have been lined, Neil. That's fairly common. Damn it, we've done it ourselves.'

'As common as breathing. But I think too much of it has gone into the wrong pockets – or wrong from one point of view anyway.'

'Whose point of view?'

'Major General Abram Kigonde.'

Geddes pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. 'What's he got to do with all this?'

'Everything. He's having trouble keeping the army in line. When he handed over power to the civil authority there were grumbles from some of his officers. A few senior types thought the army should hang on; they'd had a taste of power and liked it. But then nothing much happened, because there wasn't much power, or much loot, to divide. Then came industrialization and finally, to top it all, the oil strikes. Now there's a hell of a lot of loot and the army is split down the middle. They know the Government lads are creaming it off the top and some of those senior officers are licking their lips. Of course what they're saying is that the country which they saved from the evils of Maro Ofanwe is now being sold down the river by other equally evil politicians, but that's just for public consumption.'

'Yes, it sounds highly likely. Who's the main troublemaker?'

'A Colonel Sagundisi is at the bottom of it, the word says. He hasn't put a foot wrong, his popularity with the younger officers is increasing, and he's preaching redemption. If Kigonde lets him he'll go right out on a limb and call for army reforms again. '

'With what results?'

'Could be a coup d'etat.' 'Urn,' said Geddes. 'And the timetable? The likelihood?'.

'That's hard to guess, naturally. It depends partly on the Air Force.'

Geddes nodded tiredly. 'The usual complications. They're playing both ends against the middle, right?'

'Right now the army is split in two; half for Kigonde and the status quo, half for Sagundisi and the quick takeover. Word is that they're level pegging with Sagundisi making points and Kigonde losing them. The influence of their so-called Navy is negligible. But the Air Force is different. If it comes to open conflict then the side that has air power is going to win.'

'A poker game.'

'You're so damned right. The Air Force Commander is a wily old fox called Semangala and he's playing it cool, letting each side of the army raise the ante alternately. The Government is also bidding for support in all this, naturally, tending to Kigonde's angle but I wouldn't be surprised if they jumped whichever way would get them into the cream pot.'

'It seems to come down to Semangala, the way you see it. When he makes his mind up you expect a crack down one way or the other.'

There are other factors, of course. Student unrest is on the increase. The pro-Reds are looking for a chance to put their oar in; and in the north – where the oil is – the country is largely Moslem and tends to look towards the Arab states for support and example. Oh yes, and when all else fails there's always the old tribal game: all of the lesser tribes are ready to gang up on the too successful Kinguru, including their cousins the Wabi, who make up the army backbone. Take your pick.'

Geddes picked up his glass and seemed surprised to find that he'd drained it. 'All right, Neil. When do you think it will blow open?'

'The rains will come in nearly two months if they're on schedule which they may not be. They've been erratic the last few years. But if they do come they will effectively put a damper on any attempted coup – Geddes smiled without mirth at my unintended pun.

'Anyway, no army commander will take that chance. I'd say that if it happens, it will be within the month or not for another six months.'

'And if you had to bet?'

I tapped the table with my forefinger. 'Now.'

'And us with a three year contract,' mused Geddes wryly. 'What the hell's happened to Shelford and his department? He should know about all this?'

'How could he when he doesn't take the trouble to go and find out? I'd kick him out on his ass if I had my way.'

'We don't do things that way,' said Geddes stiffly.

I grinned. No, Geddes would shaft Shelford in the well-bred British fashion. There'd be a report in the Financial Times that Mr Shelford was going from strength to strength in the hierarchy of British Electric and his picture would smile toothily from the page. But from then on he'd be the walking dead, with his desk getting emptier and his phone more silent, and eventually he'd get the message and quit to grow roses. And wonder what the hell had hit him. A stiletto under the third rib would be more merciful.