Rogue Element

The pay was good. And the conditions were great, because he could work from anywhere. Joe wasn’t an information anarchist, an idealist. It just started out as a way to make a buck, nothing more. But then his conscience had kicked in. He was taking something that didn’t belong to him, and that was wrong. So he stopped hacking and started authoring games, and providing critiques on others for various magazines. Most of the people who created computer games were maverick types like him, and he enjoyed their company. It was a more benevolent way to make a living, and one that didn’t keep him awake nights.

‘Yes, it’s theft. That’s why I don’t do it any more.’ Joe pushed a fern frond out of their way, careful to use his axe and not his hand or arm.

‘So why’d you hack into Suluang’s computer?’

‘That was different. I had the chance to strike back at those thugs… I should have thought about it a bit harder before I dived in.’

‘Hey, I’m not having a go at you. There aren’t many individuals who get the chance to strike back at a whole system. You’re lucky, you had a weapon. In Dili, I thought I had that too — a weapon — being a journalist, keen to write the truth. And then reality hit.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I landed with the first troops to secure Dili airport. There was a ute burned out behind a hangar. In the back were half a dozen blackened human skeletons. On the side of the ute, someone had painted, “Welcome to East Timor”. I wasn’t prepared for that.’ Suryei bit her lip and tasted blood as the brutal memory crashed into her mind.

‘The authorities didn’t regard the scene as a mass grave. That seemed ridiculous to me. I mean, how many murdered people have to be dumped in a confined space before it’s considered a mass grave?’

‘Sounds like a sick riddle,’ said Joe. He looked at Suryei and saw that the memory was still fresh and that it upset her.

‘Yeah… anyway, I didn’t have to wait long to find out the answer. There was a grave of over thirty bodies outside one village I visited. The people were so scared they didn’t tell anyone about it till months after we arrived. These stories, and many others like them, were embargoed,’ Suryei said bitterly.

‘We heard rumours of mass graves wherever we went. Mostly, they were just that — stories. But every now and then… The village well you mentioned was nothing special. In East Timor, it was the militia’s favourite dumping place for bodies because a rotting corpse or two also poisoned the water. And if it didn’t physically, it sure as hell poisoned the well in people’s minds. It’s hard to drink from a place that’s your family’s grave.’

The picture of the old lady and her dead grandson flashed into Joe’s head. ‘Did you end up hating the Indonesians?’ he asked quietly.

‘No. It’s not just the Indonesians, it’s humans. Us. All of us. We’re an incredibly brutal species.’

‘It must have been rough coping with what you saw and heard.’

‘I toughened up.’

Joe thought about Suryei’s determination, her will to survive. Yes, she’d toughened up. ‘Why East Timor? Why’d you go there?’

‘My fiancé… I haven’t told you.’ Suryei swallowed hard and Joe regretted the question.

‘You don’t have to tell me.’

‘It’s okay. I can talk about it now.’ Suryei took a deep breath, as if she was about to plunge into turbulent water. ‘My fiancé and I were in the car together, coming back from a weekend away — a skiing holiday. It was night and I was dozing, listening to music on the radio. Then I heard Ric, my fiancé, say, “What’s this guy doing?’’

‘I opened my eyes and a set of headlights was coming up over the crest, on the wrong side of the road. Everything slowed down. The approaching car was swerving about from his lane to ours. There was nowhere to go. A cliff face to the right, a big drop to a river on the left. In the last second, it was like our two cars were tied together, destined to crash.’

Suryei’s breathing was heavy, her body reacting visibly to the traumatic memory. ‘At the last instant, Ric turned in to the oncoming car. He saved my life. Instead of a head-on, the other car slammed into Ric’s door. The last thing I remember about it was the glare from the headlights sparkling through our shattered windscreen. I thought I was going to die.’

Suryei cleared her throat, snapping out of a trance. She flashed Joe a nervous smile to let him know that she was alright. ‘I spent a month in hospital — broke my pelvis. Then lots of physio. Missed Ric’s funeral. I had amnesia for a while and didn’t remember anyone or anything. My mother stayed with me in hospital. Had no idea who she was.’

‘What about the other driver?’

‘Eighteen months in prison. He was asleep at the wheel. The bastard was drunk. Anyway, you asked me about East Timor.’

Joe nodded.