WRIT LARGE: Genting At Last

Chapter 21, in which Lucas arrives back in Genting after an eventful camping trip

Events of the past twenty-four hours seem to hit me as we walk into the hotel lobby at Resorts World Genting. My legs are trembling, and I force a smile to my face which I hope will keep me upright. I have never seen Olivia looking more dishevelled as she checks the messages and emails on her phone, her eyes flitting back and forth, her thoughts already forming a bullet point list of ‘things-to-do’. I am flooded with relief now that she has made contact with Bernard Arnault. Olivia will be alright.

Raising her phone to her ear, she gestures to me that she is heading outside to listen to her voicemail messages, and I tell her to go ahead.

Being back feels surreal. More surreal than sitting around a campfire on a deserted island and eating barbecued spear-caught fish; more surreal even than being on a sinking boat or building a makeshift shelter on a clifftop or using stones to make an SOS sign.

I smile to myself. The brain has an uncanny ability to take a situation and accept it as the new reality so that the body can flip easily into survival mode and do what is required of it. I feel slightly claustrophobic standing in the busy lobby surrounded by people and find myself longing to be back around the campfire, watching the sunset, and listening to the pleasant conversations taking place. I wonder briefly if our near-death experience is written on our faces, fresh lines etched into our foreheads maybe, or faint shadows beneath our eyes.

Olivia comes back into the lobby, smiling, and apart from her grubby clothes, grazed cheek, and sunburnt nose, she looks exactly as she always has—radiant and bubbling with energy.

I check in with the receptionist who retrieves a DHL package from beneath the counter addressed to me. Leann’s welcome pack. I smile and tell her that it’s a wonderful surprise. Holding the parcel feels like taking my first step back into reality, and the butterflies in my chest slow a little, allowing weariness to creep in.

“Your parcel made it too,” Olivia says.

I nod and ask if plans have been made for her return to work.

“I’m heading straight to the airport, apparently.” She shrugs. “I need to shower first and pack, but at least I still have a job.” I tell her that I never once doubted it. “Feels strange, doesn’t it? Like we don’t really belong here now, and we’ve only been gone a day.”

More has happened to us in one day, I say, than happens to many people in a lifetime. I suggest that she’ll board the private jet back to Paris hoping to catch up on some sleep, and her brain will play catch-up on everything that happened, playing it back like a movie preview.

She smiles. “No wonder we look a bit shell-shocked. I bet we’ll ache tomorrow too.”

I raise my hand and tell her that it’s still throbbing.

A small noisy crowd is gathering on the right side of the lobby, everyone trying to peer inside a glass-walled meeting room.

“What’s going on there?” Olivia asks.

The concierge overhears and says that a live podcast is taking place.

I’d forgotten all about Cathie Wood’s podcast with Leann and Beth Moses. I tell Olivia that my shower and a large pot of black coffee will have to wait as I promised Cathie that I would be back to listen in.

“I would stay,” Olivia says, “but I’ve probably pushed my luck as far as it will go with Bernard. I’ll pack as quickly as I can and try to catch the end of it.”

The room has been transformed into a mini sound studio. There are two laptops, a mini sound deck, and three microphones on the large meeting table around which Cathie is seated with Beth and Leann, earphones on, and a jug of water in front of them. Two large studio lamps stand at either end of the room casting spotlights on the speakers.

Tuah and Putera are there, and they gesture for me to join them. “How was your camping trip? Have you just arrived back?” Tuah asks.

I tell them that it was eventful and that the story will best be told once I’ve washed away the grime and refuelled with caffeine.

Putera eyes up my grubby, crumpled clothes but is too polite to mention them. “You haven’t missed too much. Cathie has spoken a little about ARKX which is her new space exploration ETF, and now Beth is talking about her first space flight.”

“I sat in seat 2R,” says Beth, speaking into the microphone.

“Now that isn’t something I ever imagined, seat numbers on spacecrafts,” says Cathie. “It certainly goes some way towards normalising space travel for the listeners. Can you describe that for us?”

Beth smiles. “Although there are rows, each individual seat is next to the window and the aisle. There’s also a window above your head, so considering I could also see out of the cockpit windows, I was literally surrounded by breath-taking views.”

“I guess if people are paying for a trip into space, space is what they expect to see,” says Cathie, “and not the back of someone’s head.”

“Well, I’m responsible for the cabin layout,” says Beth. “It isn’t like preparing for a commercial flight, say from LAX to Mexico where people want to watch a movie, maybe have a drink, and keep the kids occupied until they land and begin their holiday. The seating arrangements will be tailored to what passengers want to experience on their flight.”

Cathie nods. “Can you elaborate on that for us, please, Beth?”

“Sure, you’ll be surprised at how people’s expectations of zero gravity differ. Some want to perform acrobatics around the craft because it’s not something they’ll likely ever experience again, and it’s not the same as turning somersaults on a trampoline. Some want to pretend they’re superman. Others simply want to enjoy the view.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever view private jet travel in quite the same way,” says Leann. “I’ll be waiting for the pilot to float in, upside down, before doing a triple somersault and landing on his feet.”

Everyone in the crowd laughs. The words ‘space travel’ and ‘commercial’ as a concept are still virtually impossible to comprehend, I think.

“So, it’s basically a holiday on a spacecraft,” says Cathie. “The journey becomes everything.”

“Absolutely,” says Beth. “It’s what people are paying for, and honestly, for me, there is nothing that will ever live up to it.”

“Did you somersault?” Leann asks. “Or were you quite restrained?”

Beth laughs. “That would be telling. In the movies, you see arms and legs floating upwards as soon as an astronaut unclips their belt, but in reality, the feeling of weightlessness is quite natural and extremely liberating. Like floating in water. I was there to carry out a cabin check for future passengers, so while I did float around the cabin, it was specifically to check motion and props to help passengers move about easily. I did celebrate with the pilots in the cabin though.”

“With champagne?” asks Leann.

“That would have been lovely, but no, we kinda hugged and toasted the planet with an imaginary glass.”

“So, take-off, Beth,” Cathie asks. “How fast is it, and what is the effect on the passenger?”

“It’s pretty much like a normal aircraft other than it’s a much steeper climb. I could even hear the pilots speaking with Mission Control and the pilots of the mothership VMS Eve, which is super-impressive. When the spacecraft leaves the carrier, it goes from zero to 60mph in one second which, considering these are supersonic speeds, actually feels quite smooth.”

“Can you describe apogee for us, Beth? For the listeners, apogee is,” – Cathie taps on the screen of her iPad – “the point in the orbit of the moon or a satellite at which it is furthest from the Earth.”

“It was quite literally the most magical moment of my life. The spaceship stopped. There I was floating behind the pilots, and although I was aware of the vastness of space, there was Earth, glowing in the distance.”

Cathie and Leann watch Beth, wide-eyed. I glance around at the people in the crowd and their expressions are all the same. It is like watching a child meet Santa. Space is something that we all know exists above the planet’s atmosphere, but I wonder how many of us could accurately describe what space is. So, to hear someone speaking about being in space, is a little like hearing someone tell you they’ve been inside the belly of a whale.

“We could see halfway up the U.S. and halfway down into Mexico. There was snow on the mountains lining the coast. Picture looking at a sparkling Christmas card that has somehow come to life just for you and knowing that no one else in the world can see what you’re looking at in that moment.”

“It almost sounds like an out-of-body experience,” says Cathie.

I realise that Cathie has expressed what I have been thinking. I cannot claim to have experienced anything like apogee in the last twenty-four hours, but I do almost feel as though the events of the camping trip happened to someone else and I’ve been watching them unfold from above. My hand throbs then, reminding me that it was real.

“I’m wondering,” says Leann, “if you felt as though time stood still while you were in space. You know how sometimes you can be flying to another country and, particularly on long-haul flights when you land and your brain is feeling fuzzy, you almost feel like a tiny figurine that has been picked up and moved into another room that it has never seen before. It is as though time has waited for you to step back onto land before resuming.”

“That is exactly what it feels like,” says Beth. “Time does quite literally stand still. In fact, I wasn’t even certain that we were still breathing.” She laughs. “Over a year later and I still struggle to describe it although if anyone asks, I can bore the pants off people for hours talking about it.”

“And why not?” says Cathie. “You’ve travelled into space. Gloat as much as you want. Do you feel like a different person now? That might sound like a strange question, but you’ve travelled on the first commercial space flight, you’ve experienced zero-gravity, you’ve seen snow-capped mountains from above the Earth’s atmosphere, how do you carry that around with you when you’re shopping for groceries?”

“Ha! That’s a good question,” says Beth. “I guess the answer is, yes, I do feel like a different person. When I tell people I’m an astronaut, once they get over the initial shock, they are so eager to know all about it, which makes me feel super-special. For example, on this trip alone, I’ve met so many incredibly talented and genuinely lovely people, yourself and Leann included, and you have all made me realise how utterly privileged I am to have experienced space travel. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense,” says Leann. “It is as though you have stepped from the pages of a newly-crafted book with a knowledge that exists for no one else.”

Leann catches sight of me then outside the glass room and smiles at me, her gaze taking in my dishevelled appearance.

“On a personal level,” Beth continues, “I find trivial things bother me less. They’re so inconsequential compared to the perfection that is our planet.”

“Is that what commercial travellers can expect to gain from space travel, Beth?” Cathie asks. “Do you think it will make people appreciate the planet more?”

“A hundred percent. And if they don’t, do they even exist on the same planet as the rest of us? For me, it isn’t about space travel being the next big thing. It isn’t about outshining the neighbour who’s travelled on the world’s largest cruise ship or the friend who has stayed in the tallest hotel in the world. This is about experiencing space travel. It’s about seeing the planet from a different perspective and realising that you know what, we’ve got to do everything we can to save it.”

“Okay,” Cathie nods. “Now I guess we need to state here that realistically, commercial space travel is going to be out of reach of most people. So, from an ARKX investors’ point of view I guess, what are your thoughts on this?”

Beth ponders this for a moment. “I would say, look at pictures of motor vehicles from a hundred years ago. Technology has come so far and is developing at a rate that few of us can comprehend. Don’t write it off completely.”

Cathie nods and turns to Leann. “You’re quite a traveller, Leann. For the listeners, Leann has just travelled back into Malaysia from Singapore where she flew by private jet to a remote island to celebrate a friend’s hen party. Would you consider space travel?”

“If you’d asked me a week ago, I’d have said no without hesitation. Having listened to Beth’s experiences now, I might be tempted to reconsider although I have to say I would still be filled with fear that the spacecraft might not find its way back to Earth and I would be eternally floating around in space. Is that fear irrational, Beth? Or do many people say the same thing? I cannot even tell if this is a childhood fear carried over into adulthood, or something that has been instilled in me from Hollywood movies.”

“I’d say it comes from Hollywood movies.” Beth smiles. “You’d be surprised how many people say the same thing. I can only answer from experience and tell you that it is as safe as travelling by private jet to a remote island for a hen party.”

Leann laughs. “Maybe I will suggest it for the next hen party I am planning.”

Olivia appears beside us looking refreshed and pristine in white trousers and a pink floral top. I am pleased to see that she hasn’t tried to cover up the sunburn on her nose or the freckles that are sprinkled across her cheeks. “How’s it going?”

“It’s been entertaining.” Putera takes in her clothes and the carryon at her feet. “Are you leaving us?”

“I’m flying back to Paris.” A look passes between them and I think that we will all miss Olivia, but maybe Putera will miss her the most. “I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to do a day’s work. It’ll take me a month to recover.”

“To recover?” Tuah asks. “What happened on this camping trip? Did you get lost in a rainforest?”

Olivia laughs out loud. “That would’ve been an absolute doddle compared to what did happen.” At their raised eyebrows, she adds, “There was a storm. We got rescued by a boat that hit rocks and started to sink, and then we ended up on a clifftop on an uninhabited island. But apart from that, it was great.”

I tell her that I will miss her company and her infectious smile, and that I hope she considers coming to work for me in Sydney; I’ll make sure there’s a desk ready and waiting.

“I haven’t given you a definite no. Australian summer, Parisian winter.” She holds her hands out palms up as if they are balancing scales. “As long as you promise no camping trips.”

I assure her that I will not be camping myself for a while, but that I will need someone to help rethink my future writers’ retreats. From the corner of my eye, I notice what appears to be a film crew outside the hotel lobby.

Olivia follows my gaze. “Oh my God,” she says. “I wonder what they’re filming.”

“It is The Ghost Bride,” says Putera. “The Netflix series. My brother is part of the film crew.”

“Are you kidding me?” Olivia links her arm through Putera’s and leads him towards the hotel entrance. Over her shoulder, she says, “Paris might just have to wait a little longer. Film crew introductions are way more important.”

Cathie, Beth, and Leann are wrapping up the podcast now, so Tuah and I wait for them.

“Hi,” Leann hugs me when she leaves the temporary studio. “How was the camping trip?” She holds my hand and stands back appraising my appearance. “Tiring?”

I smile and tell her that might be the understatement of the century.

“When Cathie and Beth said you’d been invited along by a mysterious celebrity, I assumed you would be staying in a rather glamorous tent with inbuilt shower, electric lighting, and a world class caterer providing the food. Something tells me I was wrong.”

I tell her that she wasn’t a million miles from the truth, but an unexpected storm changed our plans and we ended up sheltering under the trees on the top of a cliff while it ran its course.

Leann notices the bandage on my hand. “How were you injured? Do you need some medical aid?”

I shake my head and tell her that I will survive but right now, I could do with some hot coffee and an even hotter shower.

“I’ll arrange the coffee,” says Beth, “if you tell us who you were with.”

I ask if she has spent the last twenty-four hours trying to work it out.

“No need,” says Cathie, juggling a laptop and an iPad. “Lim’s rather inebriated sons told us last night.”

I glance from one to the other as Leann squeezes my arm. “Don’t fall for it. They are taking advantage of your sleep deprivation.”

“What did you think of the podcast?” Cathie asks.

I tell her that it was thought-provoking and that I’ll listen to it again when I am less exhausted. We join Olivia and Putera outside, where Leann immediately spots an actor that she knows.

“Why am I not surprised you know someone here?” Olivia shakes her head and hugs Leann.

“I am starting to think I should have taken you with me to my friend’s hen party.” Leann touches Olivia’s bruised cheek lightly then smiles at me. “I thought I could trust you to take care of her.”

“Oh, he did!” Olivia says. “He stopped me from falling out of the dinghy when our boat sank. I’m thinking of selling our story to Netflix myself.”

“You must tell me all about it,” says Leann. “Bernard was quite concerned about you.”

“He was?” Olivia grimaces. “I have some explaining to do when I get back to Paris.” She turns to Beth. “I’m afraid your hiking shoes got a bit wet when the boat started leaking.”

“Don’t sweat it,” says Beth. “They’re just a pair of shoes.”

“They gave me blisters,” says Olivia, “but they did help me win a cheesecake.”

“It wasn’t all bad then. And you’re both here now.”

“With another story to tell,” adds Leann.

Olivia glances at her phone as the concierge comes over to announce that the taxi has arrived to take her to the airport. “Thank you.” She smiles at him, but I almost think I can see tears welling in her eyes.

I hug her and tell her that she must let us all know when she arrives in Paris. She adds my mobile number to her phone along with Leann’s.

“I want an invite to the next hen party,” Olivia says, sniffing.

“Oh, I will be sure to consult you before I plan anything,” says Leann.

Putera and Olivia also swap numbers. “I am travelling to Europe in a couple of months. I will plan a visit to the Eiffel Tower, and we can do some sightseeing.”

“I’d like that,” says Olivia.

She hugs us all again and I remind her that Bernard’s diary will have suffered enough without her.

Putera escorts her outside to the waiting taxi and I glance away as they embrace before Olivia climbs into the car. She waves at him through the window.

“What’s in the parcel?” Leann asks, as we make our way back to the penthouse apartment.

I say that I can’t tell her as it’s a surprise.

“So many secrets. Should I be worried about the writer’s retreat?”

“Only if he’s taking you camping,” says Beth.

When we reach the apartment, I quickly shower while Tuah makes coffee, and Putera opens a bottle of champagne to toast the successful podcast.

We sit by the pool. It is quiet without Olivia’s steady stream of conversation and Bernard’s grandsons splashing in the water. I ask Tuah and Putera what is next for them. Leann and I will be heading to Langkawi in the morning, while Cathie and Beth will be flying back to the States.

“Business as usual,” says Tuah. “Lim has much in the pipeline, and Loui has big plans for the cruise line.”

“And my brother is speaking to Netflix about Bernard Arnault’s biopic,” Putera adds. “He thinks they will want to adapt both biographies.”

I confess that I never took the suggestion seriously when Olivia first mentioned it at Universal Studios, Singapore.

“Maybe you should have,” says Leann, sipping her champagne. “No pressure whatsoever.”

“Perhaps they’ll make it a triple-whammy and adapt my story too,” says Cathie.

Putera takes out his phone. “I will sell it to my brother now.”

We all laugh, and I tease Leann about throwing her in at the deep end with her first Syndicate assignment.

Leann shrugs. “All in a day’s work and still it is nothing compared to our astronaut.”

Beth raises her glass.

I sip my coffee, feeling the first flush of caffeine, and ask if she has astronaut wings or whether that is an excitable little-boy question to ask.

“I do indeed.” She scrolls through her phone and shows us all a picture of her official badge. “I kept them on my bedside table for a whole year,” she says, “to remind myself that they were real. They’re locked up somewhere safe now. I still wear them when I’m attending a public event or delivering a talk though.”

I tell her that’s one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen.

“Worth a celebrity name?” she asks.

I laugh. Maybe not that incredible, I say.