Free Cut to the Chase by Ray Scott

for?’
    â€˜I work for myself,’ Wallace replied and briefly explained his work.
    â€˜Interesting,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t be Harry Wallace would you, by any chance?’
    â€˜Yes!’ Wallace replied and was on his guard at once. ‘Why?’
    â€˜Small world, I was going to attend the Indonesia-Australia Society meeting last night at the university, but I didn’t reach town in time, I was held up with a problem regarding one of our rigs. You were the guest speaker. Now that I have met you, I am very sorry that I missed it’
    â€˜How did you know it was on?’ Wallace asked, a little suspiciously since his address had hardly been the event of the year, except as a sleep inducer.
    â€˜My friend Mr Roeg telephoned me and told me what was on this month, he usually keeps me informed. I have been a member of the society for some years…look,’ He reached for his wallet and took out a small plastic card. Wallace gave it a cursory glance, sure enough it had the Indonesia – Australia Society emblazoned on it. ‘Never mind, what was your subject?’
    Wallace told him, he listened attentively. He asked one or two questions and answered one or two that Wallace asked him. They both sat until he had finished his breakfast and then they both rose to go.
    â€˜What did you say your name was?’ Wallace asked.
    â€˜I didn’t,’ he smiled. ‘But the name is Kalim, Julius Kalim.’
    â€˜Maybe we’ll meet again,’ Wallace said politely as they walked out of the breakfast room.
    â€˜Yes, I hope we do,’ Kalim replied and then they parted.
    After peering nervously around the main door, Wallace finally made his way down the front steps of the hotel. He was sick and tired of looking at himself in the mirror or watching television that he could not understand, though there was a channel that seemed to specialise in English speaking programmes that gloried in such items as Bonanza, Tarzan, Star Trek, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, and other items of soap box rubbish dating back several years together with the usual smattering of Hollywood police series.
    He looked from side to side in the same manner that mobsters do on Grade B Hollywood films, and then slowly made his way up the street. It was afternoon; further phone calls to Qantas had elicited the same information as before, no cancellations and therefore no seats.
    He resolved not to wander far as he wanted to keep the hotel within easy running distance. He made his way to a parapet that overlooked the street below and rested his elbows upon it. The traffic poured past in an endless mass, as did the pedestrians on the two pavements. That was one feature about Jakarta; wherever you looked there were people – people – people.
    â€˜Trying the afternoon air?’ Wallace nearly jumped out of his skin and his heart threatened to burst out of his ribs. He swung round and found Kalim regarding him with his usual smile, he was carrying a camera slung over his shoulder and he looked as though he had just taken a snapshot of Wallace.
    â€˜Ye-es!’ Wallace spluttered.
    â€˜I hope it comes out,’ Kalim said, eyeing the position of the sun. ‘I must have been nearly facing the sun when I took it…never mind…why don’t you stand over there?’
    In view of recent events Wallace was reluctant to have his photograph taken at all, but Kalim was already taking up his position and it was not easy to argue or find a reason why not. Kalim clicked the camera twice and smiled.
    â€˜I’ll have that developed before you leave,’ he said. ‘Do you fancy a walk?’
    â€˜Not just at the moment. It’s…er…too hot.’
    â€˜I wouldn’t argue with that. Have you seen the new shopping centre over the street yet?’
    Wallace wasn’t clear how as his instinctive inclination was to head back for the hotel, but he found himself