The Ballad of Malacca - Book III (ongoing)

A continued saga , part 3.
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He spoke fluent Bahasa with the coolies, his tone clipped, official. Then he switched to English for the British clerk beside him, instructing him to jot something down. The change was so smooth it unsettled even those accustomed to hearing two tongues at once.

The dockworkers answered his questions, but their voices carried the careful neutrality of men who knew too much was dangerous. They kept their eyes down-until Kai appeared.

It began quietly. A spine straightening here, a head lifting there. Then it spread. Men who had slouched under questioning now stood taller. Dockhands turned their faces toward Van Der Berg instead of away. Even sailors from neighboring wharves drifted closer, silent, watchful. No one spoke, but the current had shifted.

Van Der Berg felt it immediately. The air seemed to press differently against his collar. He looked up, and there was Kai Sung-pale eyes steady, still as stone, watching. The Dutchman had never met him, yet recognition was instant. Not European, not local, but unmistakably the man who commanded this wharf.