The CHANGI BULLET

Chapter 40 - Reaching Changi

Dickie McInally was thoroughly enjoying the meals provided at SEASA, not to mention the accommodation and the first-class medical care (who knew they would treat his bunions before a space flight?) Plus, he had the fascinating company of fellow travelers. He found so many people who loved all things space related, obviously, as they had signed up right away, that he chatted for almost half of each day while he waited around. They all ruminated on what the journey would be like, what they would find, how they would adapt to a different environment.

On the third morning, he was enjoying breakfast of German waffles and fruits of the forest in the canteen, while talking with a nice, married couple from Batavia. They were discussing the possible existence of worm holes in space, and whether they would ever be able to move from one planet to the next as easily as going from England to Peking, say.

At one stage, he noted the arrival of Leo Dovo, together with his secretarial team. He pointed the man out to his new friends, who were suitably star-struck.

'Is he coming with us, Dickie?' asked Mr Pertiwi.

'No, Muhammad, I think he'll be along a bit later. I assume that he feels the responsibility of guiding the Izzati program forward. He seems like a good man to me.'

'Yes, he does.'

Dickie McInally would never know that Leo Dovo had come to the canteen specifically to see this Royle Westwood man. Dovo had just received a touching letter from the family of Mr Westwood: in it they expressed their distress at his sudden disappearance, perhaps brought on by the stress of making such a momentous decision to take the journey. At such a very late stage, they wanted to wish SEASA all the best success, as they were big supporters of the project, and urged Mr Dovo to find a replacement for the dearest Father/Grandfather.

Dovo had put the matter in the hands of his personal secretary, Keira Chang.

'But, Mr Dovo,' stated a puzzled Keira. 'As soon as the special last flight arrives from Moscow, we will have our full complement of fifteen hundred passengers.'

'Is that so? Would you please, discreetly, find out the exact whereabouts of Mr Royle Westwood?'

'Yes, Mr Dovo.'

So, Dovo had come to the canteen with the intention of challenging Royle Westwood. But, on seeing the scarred, red-faced, resting lion of the man pointed out to him by Keira, he had thought better of it. Perhaps, after all, it had been a family misunderstanding. Anyway, no need for any more bad press. Better to leave the matter undisturbed. Yes, that was best for all concerned.

Leo Dovo always felt nervous going off site; both regarding the virus, and what had happened to his predecessor. So, going to the airport to meet Nicholas Sergeyev's plane, he was accompanied by a squad of Marines.

He was too busy to care much for the personal situation of these two young passengers, and how they had come to have the use of the Russian Space Minister's private jet, but he wanted to keep the Russians happy, so off he went.

Dovo's personal medical team had gone on ahead to test the "special ones". So, when they were given the all-clear, he was free to shake their hands and welcome them to England. He escorted them to his jeep. Their cuts and bruises startled him, and prompted him to engage with them, after all.

'What on earth has happened to you? Sorry, I'm Leo Dovo, SEASA Director.'

'Oleg-Paul Medvedev, sir.'

'Liza Gruffudd!'

On the ride to Changi, Dmitry explained about the crash, and the subsequent escort of the Polish-Russian police.