The Ultimate Aphrodisiac

by Robert G. Barrett

  ‘Righto,’ said Milne. ‘Number one. You got to keep away from Lan Laroi. Call off the invasion. And leave their island alone.’

  ‘Hey. No problem there, Ron. I’m sorry this all happened in the first place.’

  ‘Okay. Two. You got to legalise Indian hemp in America. Start using it for paper and stop cutting down so many rainforests.’

  ‘I can do that,’ said Clooney. ‘Should have done it years ago.’

  ‘Good,’ said Milne. ‘Three. You got to apologise to the British for them. About what happened to some building in London. It was a mistake and they’re sorry.’

  ‘Ron. I’ll ring the British ambassador as soon as I get off the phone,’ said CC.

  ‘Good. And four. You got to reimburse me for the upkeep of the prisoners.’

  ‘Not a problem, Ron,’ said Clooney. ‘How much will that be?’

  ‘Twenty-five million dollars, Cliff. Five million in cash. Ten million in the Lan Laroian government account in Konipeau. And ten million in the Lan Laroian government account in Nauru.’

  There was silence on the line for half a second. ‘I can do that.’

  ‘Excellent,’ beamed Milne. ‘I’ll have to hold on to the prisoners for another six months, according to local law. Apart from that, Cliff, everything’s apples.’

  ‘I only wish I was there to shake hands on the deal, Ron,’ replied the President.

  ‘No worries,’ said Milne. ‘Now all we have to do is sort out signing the armistice.’

  ‘Sure. How do you want to go about that?’ asked CC.

  ‘Okay. This is the Loo Noo’s instructions,’ said Milne. ‘You’ve got two ships near Johnston Island in the Pacific. The battleship Warren. And the missile carrier Hernandez. Is that right, Cliff?’

  ‘That’s … exactly right, Ron. Yes.’

  ‘Tell them to steam halfway between Konipeau and Lan Laroi, and wait there. I’ll come by seaplane and I’ll meet you on the deck of the Warren around midday Monday. You got that?’

  ‘Yep. I’ll be there.’

  ‘They also want you to bring an old battleship with you. Non-nuclear. And the French have got to send one, too. Then take the crews off and set them adrift. Can you do that?’

  ‘Yep. They’ll be there, too.’

  ‘You can bring any other ships you want with you. The Loo Noo don’t give a stuff. But one’ll be hovering over the Warren to keep an eye on things. Another will be hovering over? What’s that place again — Amatilla?’

  ‘Umatilla.’

  ‘Correct. Okay then, Cliff. I guess that’s it. I’ll see you on the Warren midday Monday and we’ll do the biz. And mate. Don’t forget the five million, will you?’

  ‘No problemskis, Ron,’ said Clooney. ‘I’ll see you then … mate.’

  Milne replaced the receiver. ‘What did the man say?’ he grinned, putting on a Liverpudlian accent. ‘Give peace a chance.’

  ‘You mean we’ve won?’ said Brian.

  ‘It’s all over bar the shouting, Yoko.’

  ‘And you’ve shoved it up him for twenty-five million?’

  ‘Sure have. One for me. One for you. One each for the chiefs. And twenty for the island.’

  Brian was goggle-eyed. ‘You mean I’ve got a million dollars?’

  ‘You will have on Monday,’ said Milne.

  ‘Lord have mercy.’ Brian reached over and pumped Milne’s hand. ‘Sawi. You are a genius.’

  ‘I have my moments,’ replied Milne modestly. ‘And if I held that back from you also, I’m sorry. But I wasn’t one hundred per cent sure.’

  ‘Hey. No worries,’ said Brian. ‘Shit! I can’t believe it.’

  ‘I have got one more job for you yet though, Takatau.’

  ‘Hey. Name it and it’s yours, Sawi. You want me to take out some more naval bases? Work in the fields? Wash and polish the Jackaroo? Whatever you want.’

  ‘No. I just want you to keep an eye on things on Monday. That’s all. I’ll tell you what to do later.’ Milne turned to the girls. ‘Well, what do you think, girls? Did I do well?’

  Both Keleu and Airu threw their arms around Milne. ‘You are our Sawi,’ said Keleu. ‘And we love you. And also the Loo Noo.’

  ‘Yes. We love you, Sawi,’ said Airu. ‘But what will you do with so much money?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Milne. ‘I reckon I’ll get a nice cruiser first, so we can all take trips around the islands. And a bigger seaplane. And a great big library to keep my future son-in-law Uiitik happy.’

  ‘Are they getting married?’ said Brian.

  ‘It looks that way,’ said Milne. ‘They’ve been doing enough tampering.’ Milne held up his empty glass. ‘Okay, Brian. Let’s have another one at the bar.’ He turned to the girls. ‘We’ll see you down there.’

  President Clooney stared round the Oval Office at his inner Cabinet. Unlike the others, CC almost looked pleased with himself. ‘Well. There it is boys. The war is over. Milne’s called off the dogs.’

  Attorney-General Joseph Arnold shook his angry head. ‘Twenty five million dollars, Mr President. That commie sonofabitch has blackmailed us. I’d give him a couple of ICBMs sir.’ From the looks around him it appeared most of the others agreed.

  Clooney fixed his eyes on the Attorney-General. ‘Joe. We sent fifty million dollars’ worth of fuckin missiles into that island yesterday. For nothing. We lost three B3 bombers. Another three hundred million dollars. We’re down five aircraft-carriers. I don’t know how many other ships and I don’t know how many planes and fuckin pilots. Plus Umatilla almost went up. And you want to quibble over twenty-five lousy million dollars. Joe. Go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut.’

  ‘What about this story about priests from Atlantis living in the moon?’ said Cutler Holdstock, Director of the CIA. ‘How are you going to explain that to the American people?’

  Clooney made a magnanimous gesture. ‘It’s beautiful. All those New Age freaks out there with their tarot cards and crystals and their dream catchers on the wall and their books by Eric Von Daniken. This makes them happy as clams. This is the answer those pointyheads have been waiting for all these years. Now I don’t have to worry about Area 51 and friggin CIA conspiracies. And Roswell and the rest of that UFO shit. Plus we’ll save billions closing down SETI.’ Clooney scoffed. ‘The search for extraterrestrial intelligence. They’d find more intelligence if they shoved one of their two hundred million dollar telescopes up my ass.’ Clooney turned to the Secretary for Defense. ‘In the meantime, you get orders to the Warren and the Hernandez. Organise my travel out to the Warren. Ring the French consulate and start looking around for two old battleships. And arrange all Milne’s money. Then when that’s done,’ Clooney smiled thinly round the Oval Office, ‘we’ll all meet back here and go through the records. I want to see exactly whose fuckin bright idea it was to invade Lan Laroi in the first place.’

  Brian and Milne returned to the bar, resumed their seats and poured fresh Jack Daniels. Brian raised his glass.

  ‘Well, Ron, here’s to you, mate. That was the sting of all time.’

  ‘Thank you. But I couldn’t have done it without you,’ said Milne.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Brian. ‘But shit, I’ve been well reimbursed.’

  ‘Yes. You’ll be able to write your book in comfort now.’ Milne stared into his drink. ‘You know. After all we did, it’s like an anticlimax.’

  Brian reflected into his drink also. ‘Yeah. I suppose you’re half right.’

  ‘So we’ll have a quiet one tonight. Tomorrow’s Sunday. Monday’s a public holiday. So we’ll have a giant party Monday night after I sign the armistice. I’ll cut Bebop Bazil loose and put on free piss. We might even go through till one o’clock.’

  ‘Goll-eee,’ said Brian. He sipped some bourbon. ‘So what do you want me to do on Monday, Reichsmarschall?’

  ‘Monday, I want you to drive out to the temple. Take a disc and fly straight to Umatilla and hover around long enough to make sure your presence is
well and truly felt. Then vanish, and head flat-out for the Pacific and catch up with me and Ohlo and Sohte in the seaplane, two hundred kilometres north of Lan Laroi. And you can escort us out to the Warren.’

  ‘No worries,’ said Brian. ‘Do Ohlo and Sohte know what’s been going on?’

  Milne shook his head. ‘No. They’ll see you and think you’re one of the Loo Noo.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Brian.

  ‘I’m allowing for the drive out to the temple, so you’ll find us okay. I won’t hang around on the Warren. Just long enough to piss in Clooney’s pocket then sign the papers and pick up the money. While I’m playing Douglas MacArthur on the Warren, you hover above and make sure they get a good look at you. Before I leave I’ll wave my hat. And you take out one of the empty battleships. Give me and the boys time to fly off. Then take out the other one. Do a victory roll and head for home. By the time you drive back from the temple, it’ll be time for the late. Dinner a la Lengi. Then massive festivities at the Key Bar.’ Milne smiled. ‘How’s that sound?’

  ‘Too easy,’ said Brian. He turned around to see Keleu and Airu walk in.

  They sat down next to Brian and Milne. They were both tired and looked it. Keleu put her head on Brian’s shoulder.

  ‘I am still tired,’ she said. ‘I have to go to bed.’ She put her arm around Brian. ‘I’m sorry, Brian. But I would be no good to you tonight.’

  Brian laughed and kissed her on top of her head. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he said. ‘You get a good night’s sleep. I’m tired myself.’

  ‘Mmmmhh.’

  ‘How about we go for a bike ride tomorrow? If you feel like it.’

  ‘I would enjoy that.’

  Keleu kissed Brian goodnight, Airu did the same to Ron, then the girls walked round to the house. Brian sipped his drink, looked at Milne and yawned.

  ‘Crikey. I think I’m catching this sleeping sickness myself,’ he said.

  Milne pointed to Brian’s necklace. ‘It’s your mutami. The air’s full of magnetism from the shield and we’re picking it up too.’

  ‘How long are you going to keep the shield up?’ asked Brian.

  ‘For a little while yet,’ answered Milne. ‘You never know. Some whacko general out there might let a lazy one loose at us.’

  ‘That’s a thought,’ said Brian.

  ‘It’s a big might,’ said Milne. ‘We’re a long way away and I’m sure Clooney will keep an eye on things. I doubt if he and his military want another boot up the blurter. I know they won’t after they get a glimpse of AMI on Monday, up close and personal.’

  ‘I will do my best to put on a spectacular display, boss,’ said Brian.

  ‘I’m sure you will.’ Milne smiled into his drink. ‘Remember at Silverdale, when we hit both those submarines at once? What about that for an explosion.’

  Brian shook his head in wonder. ‘Did you see those torpedos getting blown everywhere like paddle pop sticks? I got some photos you know.’

  They sat and talked a little while longer then called it a night. Milne said he’d see Brian in the kitchen at seven for breakfast. They’d take the runabout over to the rights and Brian could get some more photos. After that they’d have a very lazy day. Milne added that all their immune systems should kick in by tomorrow. So everybody would be pretty much back to normal. Brian said goodnight and went to his room.

  After cleaning his teeth, Brian got down to his jox and walked out on the balcony. It was a beautiful night with a sky full of stars. Brian stared up at them for a while and yawned. Despite all they had done, Brian felt indifferent. Milne was right. It was a bit of an anticlimax. It would sink in, though. Especially when he got all his photos developed. Brian went inside, turned off the light and got into bed. His last thoughts were about the million dollars he was going to pick up. Brian smiled and pulled the pillows under his head. He didn’t mind Milne keeping that one back from him. Very soon Brian was snoring peacefully.

  Brian was up at six-thirty the next morning, and outside it was a perfect day. He got straight into his board shorts which were drying in the bathroom and last night’s T-shirt and walked down to the kitchen. Lengi was at the stove, Milne was seated drinking guava and orange juice mixed. Brian said hello, poured himself a juice from the jug on the table and sat down opposite Milne.

  ‘So what’s doing, Sawi?’ asked Brian. ‘We off for the early? It’s a grouse day.’

  ‘We sure are,’ replied Milne. ‘Bring your camera and get a few photos of Sawi El Magnifico on the rights. I’ll get some of you.’

  ‘Actually, I’m starting to run a bit low on film,’ said Brian.

  ‘I’ll get some from the PX on the Warren when I see Clooney.’

  ‘Get twenty rolls of ASA 200. Take it out of my million.’

  ‘Bugger that,’ said Milne. ‘Clooney can shout.’

  Lengi served up fresh muesli and fruit, then eggs Benedict with smoked salmon, coffee and toast. When they had finished, Brian got his camera gear then met Milne at the board rack. They took the two smaller mals and walked down to the marina. There was no one around, the sun was sparkling on the water and the seabirds were calling to each other as they dived and whirled above the harbour. They placed the boards in the runabout, Milne kicked the engine over and they proceeded across to the channel.

  Windmills was just over a metre and getting better as the tide dropped. Milne took the runabout through the break and put it up on the beach. Brian got out and set his tripod and camera up on the beach. Milne was waxing up as Brian was focussing on the line up. Brian pointed to Tiger Island.

  ‘I suppose you’ll go and pay your mate Lee Britt a visit today. Rub it in a bit more,’ he said.

  Milne shook his head. ‘Not today. I want to get a photo of me and Clooney on the Warren first.’

  ‘What are you eventually going to do with the prisoners?’ asked Brian.

  ‘Annoy shit out of Lee Britt for the next six months. Then execute them,’ replied Milne.

  ‘Fair dinkum?’ said Brian.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind handing them back,’ said Milne. ‘Imagine the reception they’d get back in America. This was all his fault. But it’s up to the three chiefs.’

  ‘Do the chiefs always have the last word?’ said Brian.

  ‘Always,’ said Milne. ‘I do have a certain presidential decree. But the three chiefs together can overrule me.’

  Brian finished focussing. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Get out there, young fellah, and show me what you got.’

  ‘Young fellah,’ laughed Milne. ‘I like that.’

  Milne paddled out on the Gordon and Smith and started ripping. Milne was pretty good on his feet and Brian got some great photos. Then it was Brian’s turn. Milne also managed some great photos. Especially one of Brian hanging five through a filthy little barrel surrounded by dolphins. It was an absolute classic.

  As Milne said it would, the day went very lazy. They surfed till it felt like their arms were coming off, then drove back to the PP. After putting the boards away, they found some sandwiches Lengi had left for them in the kitchen. Brian made some coffee and they took their sandwiches down to the Key Bar, set up a table outside and ate ‘al fresco’. Brian suggested Milne should get an espresso coffee machine and introduce cafe society to the Lan Laroians. They could turn Key Street into another Campbell Parade, Bondi. Milne said that was a commendable idea and he would make it a priority when he started spending the twenty million.

  Brian told Milne he’d see him later and called round to the house to go bike riding with Keleu. Keleu was up and about, wearing her black bikini under a green cutaway jumpsuit and keen to go. She got her cap and sunglasses and her mountain bike from the side of the house. Brian got half-a-dozen beers and a small esky from the kitchen, tied it to the trailer on the back off his bike, along with two large towels, then they took off in the same direction Brian went on Thursday. They pedalled further than Brian had, then stopped, spread their towels on the sand beneath some coco
nut trees, got down to their swim gear and had a cool one. The first beer went down very easy, so Brian opened two more. They were standing on the sand when Keleu put her beer down and told Brian to do the same.

  ‘Would you like to see a trick Sawi taught us?’ said Keleu.

  ‘I’d absolutely love to see a trick Sawi taught you,’ replied Brian.

  ‘Put your hands on my shoulders,’ said Keleu.

  ‘Okay,’ answered Brian.

  He faced Keleu and placed his hands on her shoulders. Quick as a rabbit, little Keleu ducked under Brian, pushed his left arm up, put her right arm around his waist then got her bum behind Brian, bent over, and dropped Brian on his back in a fairly effective hip toss. Brian landed on the beach towel, screwed up his face and started writhing around moaning with pain.

  ‘Ohh shit! My back,’ he grimaced.

  ‘Brian, what is it?’ asked a concerned Keleu.

  ‘It’s my back. I think you pulled a disc. Shit!’

  ‘Oh dear. I am so sorry, Brian, I only meant it for fun.’ Keleu knelt down beside Brian. ‘Where does it hurt?’ she asked.

  ‘Right about here.’ Brian grabbed Keleu by one arm, pulled her down then pushed his hand onto her mwanga and started rubbing it like it was a firm, juicy plum, while he lovingly kissed the softness of her neck.

  Keleu lay on the towel lapping it up then put her hand down the front of Brian’s board shorts. ‘Brian,’ she said. ‘You are in a lot of pain, aren’t you.’

  Brian had his board shorts off and lying on the sand next to Keleu’s bikini in a trice. Keleu lay on her back, opened her legs and Brian made love to her in the sun. Keleu kicked and yelled for more; she let anybody around that part of the harbour know she wanted more. Brian went for a while then shuddered to a mind-blowing stop. They had a dip then got out and had another beer. Brian eased Keleu back onto the blanket and shoved his face into her mwanga as far as he could get it. Keleu polished Brian’s knob till it shone like the Hope Diamond. They made more love, drank more beer, and swam about in the nude. Brian backstroked around with Keleu holding his feet and as he spurted jets of water up in the air, convinced himself this was about as good as it gets.