Pike's Pyramid. Michael Tatlow

Чтение книги онлайн.

      He gave the assemblage a stirring account of the launch in the republic, peppered with some personal colour and photographs. ‘We’ve recruited Stanley’s first foreign legion!’ he announced.

      He felt his lack of detail about the republic would be attributed to his modesty. It was a rendition De Groote would be proud of. He saw that Alex also felt guilty. It was like writing a news story with a slant. There was no point now in unsettling them, he figured.

      He was asked when the professor was going to Prague to further the Pikes’ gains. ‘Pretty soon,’ he said. ‘Richard told me last night how thrilled he is.’

      That, at least, was not a lie. Argo’s heavies said the sort of propaganda he was sprouting was not lying. It was simply a recitation of successes, presented in advance.

      ‘A fruitful mission, a holiday with Alex’s family in a glorious old country, and all tax deductible,’ he summarised expansively. ‘The seeds have been planted, ready for cultivation.’ A pathetic little patch, and no damned cultivator.

      The Pikes, the achievers, stood hand in hand as their team sang For they are jolly good fellows. Dicky Allcock led the hip hip hoorays. Magda and Josef Dvorak were near bursting with pride.

      To her husband’s astonishment, Alex announced that she would soon get tickets for an exciting Argo seminar at Burnie, four Sundays away. Everyone had to go. National leader Jerry Bell himself was coming from Sydney.

      De Groote had been on the phone to her, Pike guessed. The event was unavoidable. ‘Take lots of people with you. All your new recruits,’ he contributed. ‘It will be a great team-building experience and you’ll hear more about the Czech Republic.’

      ‘It’ll cost only thirty dollars a ticket,’ Alex added. She and Blarney knew De Groote and Bell would pocket most of the proceeds. Some would flow to Harbek.

      Pike took their six front-line couples aside, one at a time, for reports on their progress while the others enjoyed the unusually windless sunshine.

      The operators of the big Stanley Cabin and Tourist Park down the hill at the bottom beach oozed confidence. Pike managed to cover his amusement at a particular cruelty of Stanley’s nick-naming mania. It was bad enough that Maurice White’s young wife, a sultry little Filipino he had met and married in Manila, was named Lily. Maurice was a large Maori with ebony hair that curled to his shoulders. It was probably inevitable that, soon after he’d arrived from New Zealand two years back, the locals had named him Snow. He seemed to like it, however.

      ‘We got four new ones while yous was away,’ Snow White reported proudly. His big right hand covered a can of beer. ‘They was all customers at the park. They’s gone back to the mainland now. Lily got three of ’em.’

      The system provided for people who joined Argo while away on holidays to be contacted back home by an agent in their patch. The agent who collared the new networkers shared the loot, usually half and half.

      ‘That makes our downline twenty-six people!’ Lily chimed in. ‘But we missed two families, probably because we’re shitty presenters of the pitch. You help us next time, Hells?’

      Pike told them it was a terrific result. ‘Let me know when you’ve got another one lined up,’ he said, ‘and we’ll do a double act.’