My breath was ragged, but I had no time to rest. After ensuring Siti and Anne Marie's boat vanished around the canal bend, I immediately slipped toward Batavia Station. The large clock on the platform showed four in the morning—the time when vegetable and fruit vendors from the outskirts began preparing to board the first train to Buitenzorg.
I looked for a familiar figure: Pak Kumis, a Nasi Bungkus vendor who had been selling in the economy carriages for decades. He was one of my best informants, a man who saw everything but never spoke to the soldiers.
"Pak, deliver one parcel to a friend at the final destination," I whispered, slipping him a silver coin far larger than the price of the rice.
I didn't give him a letter. I handed him a Lurik Handkerchief of mine that I had tied with a specific knot—a code I had learned from my late father. If Julian saw this handkerchief, he would know that Batavia was burning, and they must not return.
"Tell the blue-eyed youth, Pak. Say: 'The storm is raging in the north, do not return before the skies clear,'" I instructed softly.
Pak Kumis nodded without questioning. In our world, excessive curiosity can get you killed. He hid the handkerchief at the bottom of his rice basket, covered by fragrant banana leaves.
As I watched the steam train slowly leave the station, emitting black smoke that billowed into the dawn sky, I felt a heavy burden on my shoulders. I had to return to the palace before Friedrich noticed my absence. I had to put back on the mask of a submissive servant, while inside, I was counting down the time until the explosion.
If the message arrives, Julian and Adrian have time to hide on the slopes of Mount Salak. If not... then the history of the Van de Berg family will end in a silent mass execution under the lush banyan trees of Buitenzorg.
I turned, walking away from the station as the sun began to peek from the eastern horizon. Its reddish light today felt like blood spilled over the asphalt.
Culture & Language Notes
Nasi Bungkus: Rice wrapped in banana leaves, the most common meal for travelers and workers; used here as a clever hiding place for a secret message.
Saputangan Lurik: A handkerchief made of striped traditional fabric; a personal item used as a visual signal or "dead drop" in espionage.