The Prince Of Kuching 4 A Father's Question To His Son

Rickie stifled a yawn as he read the news at the dining room table, waiting for breakfast. For some reason, he was unable to sleep last night. The brief interaction with the pair by the pool seemed to be pushed to the forefront of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard the haunting notes of a flute juxtaposed with the high-pitched cries of bats, and saw a pair of chocolate eyes.

'Eh,' he thought, 'it's not like I'll ever see them again.' They were many kilometres away; he was now at the family villa outside the city of Kuching. If he walked to the dining room windows, there would be a view of nothing but the bright blues of the South China Sea, not the cool green darkness and teeming wildlife of Gunung Mulu.

As his father was wheeled into the room, Rickie stood and walked to his father's side. The stroke that had robbed him of his mobility was evidenced by the noticeable thinness of his left limbs; nevertheless his blue eyes, pa.s.sed down to his son, still brimmed with intelligence.

"Selamat pagi, Father. How are you?" Rickie said as he leaned down to hug the older man.

[A/N: "Good morning."]

"I'm not quite ready for squash, son, but soon", he smiled his lopsided grin. It never failed to give Rickie a pang when he saw his once-active father reduced to this existence, but the fact that his father maintained a positive att.i.tude and was still on this earth was a source of wonder as well.

As his father's a.s.sistant JoAnne placed a napkin on the senior Ahmad's lap and adjusted his plate, Rickie walked back to his place, and sat down. Immediately, the staff brought his typical breakfast of nasi lemak, with its fragrant rice, spicy sambal, and eggs. He looked at his father and his much simpler fare: scrambled eggs. Rickie thanked the staff as they placed a basket of piping hot puri bread and a carafe of western-style coffee between them.

"I can't see what's wrong with having a little kick in my food", grumbled his dad as JoAnne poured cups for all three of them and sat down next to him. After a short period of eating, he looked up at his son.

"How are things at the office?"
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"Current output of our primary fields is at 85% of maximum. We should have no problems fulfilling our current orders. On the distribution side, several of our roads were damaged in the storms last March, and repairs should take another month or so to complete." Rickie took a sip of his coffee, already feeling more awake and ready to face the world.

"Ever since PETRONAS gave us the FLNG contract, I've realized that our interests may be coming under international scrutiny," the elder Ahmad said, "so we need to make sure that the completion of Compliant Tower # 3 offsh.o.r.e is completed with a minimum of errors." He wiped his mouth on a snowy damask napkin, and fixed his eyes on his son.

[A/N: PETRONAS is a Malaysian oil and gas company; FLNG "Floating Liquified Natural Gas" is an extraction process used underwater]

"Now for more important information. How was the party last night? Meet any potential fiancées?" Rickie focused on his father, a protest forming on his lips. At twenty-nine, he hardly felt like settling down; In fact, he had hoped to return back to his agent position until it became clear that his father would never fully recover from his stroke.

He prepared his denial, but surprised himself by saying, "I met someone interesting by the pool".