Then
Malaysia
“Don’t get up,” said Stephen, as he rose from the dining table. He picked up the mug Ma had given him, with her old firm’s name emblazoned on the side: KHALID AND BALASUbrAMANIAM . The mug was empty now, a brown ring of Milo at the base. “Eat your dinner.”
Ket Siong nodded, his mouth full of rice. He had that pale overstretched look again. They wouldn’t be getting anything more than monosyllables out of him this evening. It wasn’t the late nights he found taxing so much as the long days of social interaction teaching involved.
Siong’s reluctance to pass on any opportunity was understandable. It wasn’t easy, trying to make a living as a classical musician in Malaysia. But Ket Hau wondered if it was time for another little chat about taking it easier.
Maybe he should force another family holiday on the three of them. If he said it was for Ma’s sake, Ket Siong would make the time.
Ma came in, bearing a bowl of soup for Ket Siong.
“Don’t wash!” she said, when she saw the mug in Stephen’s hand. “Leave it there.”
Ket Hau took the mug from Stephen and put it on the table, giving him a pointed look. Eleven years since Ket Hau had first introduced Stephen to the family and he was still trying to impress.
“Thank you, auntie,” said Stephen. “Good night.”
“No, no, thanks to you,” said Ma. “Safe journey home, yeah? I’ll see you when?”
“Maybe at the weekend,” said Ket Hau. “Stephen wants to go to IKEA, so he might come along on Saturday.”
He followed Stephen through their small living room to the door, unlocking the grille for him. Outside was what they called the porch, though this was somewhat overselling it—it was just a narrow tiled area beneath the eaves, where they kept the shoe rack and an assortment of umbrellas.
Stephen’s Myvi was parked in the drive, next to the small front garden Ma had crowded with ferns, herbs, bougainvilleas, and birds-of-paradise.
Ket Hau leaned against the wall as Stephen bent down, pulling on his one decent pair of black shoes. They’d come straight from work earlier.
The air was finally cool now it was nighttime. A faint smoky scent lingered, harsh on the throat, though it had rained in the afternoon—a relief, after days of haze. Pleasanter smells exhaled from the garden, of moist earth and green growing things, underlaid by the stink of the drain on the other side of the fence.
Ket Hau observed all of these familiar things without noticing he noticed them. He was preoccupied with the back of Stephen’s head.
“Thanks for coming over,” said Ket Hau. “That was definitely a two-man job.”
Stephen didn’t answer. He’d been a little off all day.
It was a strange time, of course. Stephen had dodged the question when Ket Hau asked, but he was pretty sure Stephen was still being followed. That was enough to make anyone jumpy, given the magnitude of the secret Stephen was sitting on.
He’d only started looking into Freshview Industries’ links to the Sarawak state government in hope of finding ammunition for the Ensengei campaign. He’d tapped his networks for information and eventually struck gold with a guy he’d hooked up with a couple of times at uni, now the disgruntled employee of a government-linked company. But Stephen hadn’t been prepared for the scale of what his contact had revealed.
Corruption was nothing new in Malaysia. Everyone expected politicians to skim a moderate amount off the public purse. But there was nothing moderate about the scandal Stephen had stumbled upon. It was theft on a dizzying scale, implicating not only the Sarawak state premier, but people even more powerful, up to the highest levels of government.
“This stuff is red hot,” Stephen had said, as they strolled around the dilapidated playground in a neighbourhood park. The park happened to be near a North Indian restaurant where they’d had a nice meal three years ago. They’d chosen it because it had no connections to their daily routine, or to where they lived and worked. “Regime-changing. If you could get it in the right hands.”
“What are you going to do?”
Stephen shrugged. He was frightened, Ket Hau could tell. So was Ket Hau. They hadn’t talked about it, each of them trying to put a brave face on for the other.
“I was thinking, right,” said Stephen. “All I wanted was to save some plants. That’s it. I just want them to leave a bunch of trees alone.” He shook his head, blowing out a puff of air. “Crazy, man.”
“Everything all right?” Ket Hau said now.
Stephen made a noncommittal noise. Once he’d got his shoes on, he said, “I might not come to IKEA. Better keep my head down.”
Ket Hau glanced back at the house. He could hear the distant clatter of cutlery from the kitchen, the gush of a tap, the screech of chair legs scraping the floor as Ket Siong got up from the table.
He lowered his voice. “Has something happened?”
Stephen hesitated. “Johan’s worried. I don’t know who’s said what to him, but he’s scared they’re going to out him to his family.” Stephen’s source was a married Malay-Muslim householder with four kids. Johan was less svelte now than he’d been at uni, but no less closeted. “He’s not suited to a life of corporate espionage. Got too much to hide.”
Ket Hau swallowed, his mouth dry. He hadn’t been too happy when Stephen first reached out to Johan, for more than one reason, but he’d already said his piece on that. “So how? You going to be OK?”
“Yeah. But that’s why I came over. Wasn’t just because I love handling your large appliances.” Stephen gave him a crooked smile. “Will you hang onto this for me?”
Ket Hau took the USB drive from him. “What’s this?”
“That’s got a copy of everything Johan gave me,” said Stephen. “I’m going to give him back the hard drive he passed to me. Maybe that will calm him down. And I thought, your mom has some opposition contacts, right? You think they could do something with this stuff?”
Ket Hau turned the USB drive over in his hand, frowning. “I’d want to ask Ma what she thinks. You never know with politicians. It’s rival one day, ally the next.”
“Don’t tell her yet,” said Stephen quickly. “Not that I don’t trust her, but… let’s wait first. See how things play out.”
“Of course.”
Stephen still looked worried. “Is it OK?” He nodded at the USB drive. “I don’t want to drag you into this, but I wasn’t sure who else to ask.”
“I’m in it already.” Ket Hau took hold of Stephen’s shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. “It’s fine.”
He slipped the USB drive into the pocket of his shorts. It wasn’t heavy, but he could feel its rounded edges against his thigh, through the thin fabric.
“You want to stay over?” he said. Ma wouldn’t ask any questions. She was used to putting out a mattress on Ket Hau’s bedroom floor for Stephen.
But Stephen said, “Not tonight. Lady from the Star ’s coming to the office tomorrow morning. I’ve got to prep for the interview.”
He got into his car. Ket Hau opened the gate at the end of the drive, as the Myvi stuttered reluctantly to life.
“You need to get a new car,” said Ket Hau.
“It’s OK,” said Stephen, as he did every time they had this conversation. “It’s going now. See? Told you. Only takes three Hail Marys to start.”
He backed out into the road and paused, rolling down a window. “You take care of yourself, Hau. And your gang.”
He jerked his head at the house. Right now, it contained nearly everyone Ket Hau loved most in the world.
Not quite everyone.
“You too,” said Ket Hau. “Good night.”
He locked the gate and stood there watching as Stephen drove off, till the car rounded a corner and was lost to sight.