Blood Is a Stranger by Roland Perry

couldn’t believe that he would try anything. After all, she thought, I could destroy his reputation.
    The bedroom was vast. Its walls were covered in green and gold silk. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling above a canopied king bed draped in lace.
    â€˜Well?’ Utun said.
    â€˜I think all Australians would love the colour combination,’ she said. She had not moved into the room. The two guards were close behind her.
    Utun beckoned her in.
    â€˜I would like to finish the interview,’ she said.
    The guards took her by each arm and pushed her into the room. Her briefcase fell on the floor. Utun picked it up.
    â€˜We can continue just as well in here,’ he said.
    The guards retreated, pulling the doors behind them. Rhonda heard a click as they were locked in. Utun cameclose.
    â€˜I want you,’ he mumbled.
    Rhonda went to speak, but her mouth went dry, and she stopped in mid-sentence, scared that she might provoke him further.
    Utun lunged at the ropes of her tunic, and she struggled with him, making it fall open, exposing her breasts. Utun pinned her against a wall and ran a hand over the crutch of her pants. He was snorting with excitement. He grabbed at her hair, and the clips holding it in place were wrenched away. She slapped him hard across the face. He sucked in his breath.
    Rhonda ran to the door and tried to get out.
    Utun called for the guards. The two men burst in. They dragged Rhonda to the bed and held her down. Utun shed his jacket, tie and shirt. The guards tightened their grip on Rhonda as Utun fell over her, his trousers unzipped. He ordered the guards out and began to rub himself all over her. He was having trouble getting an erection.
    â€˜You must fight me!’ he said shrilly. ‘Resist me!’
    â€˜I really don’t see the point,’ Rhonda mumbled.
    Utun punched her on the shoulder. She struggled with him. He hit her again. She slapped him. He rolled on to his back, holding his face. He grabbed her round the neck. Rhonda tried to knee him in the groin but caught his stomach. She broke free and slipped off the bed. Utun sat up. He looked ready to stalk her, but fell back on the pillows, his chest heaving.
    â€˜Guards!’ Utun screamed, ‘Guards!’
    They charged in again. Rhonda was pulling on her pants. They hesitated.
    Utun was blubbering. He waved his hands and squeaked, ‘Let her go’.

4
    Cahill’s Crossing on the East
Alligator River was a serene place where bottle-green water chuckled over a concrete causeway in harmony with weeping willows. But when Burra and Cardinal arrived at one, it resembled a battleground. About two hundred Aborigines armed with clubs, spears, sticks, rocks and rifles were grouped on the reserve behind a barricade of logs. Burra signalled for the barrier to be removed. A cheer went up as the ute and caravan were driven across the causeway and into a clearing under the willows. Cardinal began to wonder what he had let himself in for as he was introduced to members of the Bididgee tribe, including Burra’s rival, Tom Beena. Beena did not like Cardinal’s presence and took Burra aside to tell him.
    â€˜No whites should be involved,’ he said, just as they were all distracted by a disturbance at the Crossing. A red roadtrain had rolled onto the causeway and had stoppedhard against the log barrier.
    â€˜Mad Mick Malone!’ Burra said, as Cardinal came over to him. Several Aborigines were waving the truckie back, but his vehicle’s front grill was shoving at the logs. They budged a few centimetres. Burra strode to the causeway.
    â€˜Drivers like him live by the boast that they always get their load to a destination,’ Burra said to Cardinal. ‘They go through everything, come rain, hail or shine, literally.’
    They watched as Malone climbed from the cabin to hoist and roll a log in Burra’s direction. It thudded to the concrete a few metres from him. Cardinal took