Chapter 30

The non-stop was a real pleasure. I read some of Elliot Perlman's Seven Types of Ambiguity,

six hundred pages of paperback. I'd liked his Three Dollars a few years ago. This was different and gripping. I took a taxi to the Hyatt and had a quick bite before getting to bed, leaving an 8:00 wake-up call.

In the morning, I showered, shaved, dressed in my blue suit, a light blue shirt and a maroon tie, and went to have breakfast. Juice, toast, coffee. I was increasingly curious. I had glanced at the Canberra Times and just begun The Australian when a voice said: "I thought I'd find you here. I'm a bit early." It was Kevin.

"Hello. Coffee?"

"And some toast, please." I signalled the waiter. "I expect you're curious."

"That's a massive understatement."

"Apparently you've made some important friends."

"Maggie?"

Kevin laughed. "Well, she's important, but I meant well outside our purview. Specifically, your Commander Evans."

"Commander Evans?"

"He was very impressed with your identification of the beetles up in Monkey Mia and your spotting some bit of cloth and having him called in. And it looks as though Immigration needs a young hero. You're it."

"I think I'm missing something."

"Thank you," Kevin said to the waiter. "In a bit over an hour they awarding you a 'Public Service Medal.' You'll be able to add 'PSM' to your business cards." I must have looked as though I'd been clubbed. "Are you OK?"

"A medal? A PSM? For me? Wow!"

"As I understand it, you'll be the first from the CSIRO. Usually they go to people who risk their lives saving idiots from a flood or an avalanche or to retiring outback postmen or politicians. But don't get me wrong. This is wonderful. They're recognizing something significantly valuable to Australia: brains. There will be some press there, certainly a photographer or two. I imagine the Deputy Minister will make the presentation. Your MP from Perth will congratulate you. I may be called upon, but I doubt it. If they ask you to speak, make it short. Do you feel OK now?"

"Yes. They're going to give me a medal for knowing my job, keeping my eyes open, and calling the police when I realized that a crime had been committed. Is that it?"

"They may have put on a lunch. I don't know."

"Wait till I tell Weena. And my mom and dad."

"Evans apparently wanted them to award the CSM, but that's supposed to only go to defense personnel. He thinks defending against illegal immigration should count. So don't be surprized, no matter what happens."

The Public Service Medal recognises outstanding service by employees of the Australian Government and state, territory and local government employees.

The Conspicuous Service Medal (CSM) was introduced in1989 to recognise meritorious achievement or devotion to duty in non-warlike situations.

I signed the bill and we went outside. There was a government car and driver. We got in and 20 minutes later we were pulling up in front of a large building in Belconnen. "About an hour, George," Kevin said to the driver, who nodded.

We went inside. Kevin said something to a woman in uniform who immediately spoke into a microphone like the ones folks wear in spy movies. Kevin came back and a youngish man in a suit appeared and hurried over.

"How do you do? I'm O'Driscoll, the minister's private secretary. You're the Director of the CSIRO? And this is our hero?" He extended a very moist palm. "Come with me, they're all upstairs."

It was worse than I had expected. Commander Evans was there but I knew no one else. The Deputy Ministers of Immigration and Defense were both present, as were both "my" MP and the one for Monkey Mia, which was in the same district as Kalgoorlie. After that there were several blokes with cameras and several with little tape recorders. There were two men in uniform with several rows of badges, and at least a dozen about whom I knew nothing.

O'Discoll took me to a lectern where both Ministers, both MPs and the Generals [?] all smiled. I was introduced. A Minister said this was the award ceremony, but that the "announcement" would be made on the Queen's Birthday. I was told of the "invaluable service" I had performed for Her Majesty. Everyone had to say how proud they were. O'Driscoll produced a box. The Minister held up the medal and then pinned it to my breast pocket. He shook my hand. The other Minister shook my hand, saying "I expect you'll be collecting more tin." I said "Thank you, sir." Everyone drifted towards the drinks table.

I was left with Kevin and the Commander. I introduced them to one another. "I wanted this to be the CSM, not the PSM," said Evans. "But I've got a plan. Kevin, give me a card. Here's mine. Gordy, Willy said I should give you a kiss. But I'm not into that. Maybe you can collect one from her. I've never been so lucky." I was left alone with Kevin. But a reporter came over.