by M A Moore
Chapter 37
The Boers, the early Dutch settlers of South Africa, moved inland from the coast to farm and practice their religion as they saw fit in the early part of the nineteenth century. They found British rule oppressive. However the Zulus did not take kindly to having their territory overrun by intruders and they fought back savagely. It was the troops of the British Empire that finally subdued them, but a severe labor shortage was the result. The British brought in a hundred and fifty thousand indentured Indians from the subcontinent to meet their needs and founded the city of Durban.
The Indians of Durban were loyal to the traditions of their original homeland, but decades of separation meant change. The caste system of India was an organization of social classification abolished by law today, but traditions millennia old were not so easily discarded by legal decree. Caste was determined by birth, and its lines were difficult, sometimes impossible to cross. The highest class, the Brahmin, is the priestly caste. It was divided into two sects. One studied philosophy, the other specialized in weaponry. Warriors, merchants and artisans are designations that signified not only other castes, but also allowable occupations. The Untouchables are in a classification so low born that the way out of it was only deemed possible by rebirth.
Karma is the force held responsible for punishment and reward in this life. This force is influenced by the extent that individuals followed their dharma, the duties one has in his or her life. Karma reflects the actions of the individual according to his or her dharma. Through proper execution of one’s duties, one could hope to be reborn in the next to a higher caste.
Until the era of the Raj, the British occupation of India as a protectorate, caste mobility was not an impossibility. Many historians conjecture that British economic demands limited the economic mobility of India’s lower castes through traditional avenues of education and entrepreneurship. As Amy traveled the streets of Durban, she realized that the original Indian émigrés would not have come from the higher castes. But Hindus looked to the longer term, to the welfare of their progeny, and perhaps their reincarnated selves.
Today Durban is a major port city for all of Africa. Its location makes it ideal as a repair haven for container ships traveling the treacherous waters across the southern tip of the Dark Continent. Its climate is tropical and the beaches are a major draw to tourists, but the culture was alien to Amy. She needed help making connections here -someone who understood the lay of the land and the people. Ganesha, the Indian god represented with an elephant’s head and a man’s body, was the remover of obstacles. Mike had been a remover of obstacles when she was last here in Africa. Amy missed him. In a real sense she needed him now, but she had had no contact with him since they parted at the airport. She reminded herself that he was better off without her. She had overcome many obstacles to get as far as she had, but she often wished she did not have to deal with them alone.
Now she was at a loss as to whom to trust. She thought Ed Brown might be her best hope, but he might also be her nemesis. The information gleaned from Stephen’s message hinted at a schism in the upper echelons of the organization. Amy had no clue as to which side of the power struggle Ed Brown belonged.
Chapter 38
He met her on the tea room’s terrace in late afternoon. When he arrived a woman in a blue and orange sari brought them a steaming pot of Darjeeling tea and a plate of coconut sweetmeats to accompany it. His demeanor was very different than it had been in Cape Town.
“Namaste.” Ed Brown greeted her, palms together, folded in front of his chest. He dressed in white linen garments much like Stephen wore in her visions of him. The Sanskrit translation was literally “I bow to you.” It was a respectful Hindu salutation and one of five traditional greetings mentioned in the Vedas. Some thought it to have the spiritual significance of reducing, and sometimes even negating one’s ego when meeting another. Amy nodded her head in return.
“I have taken the liberty of ordering refreshments for us,” he said simply.
He took a seat across from her. “I do hope you enjoy Darjeeling, Dr. Mohr. I consider it the champagne of teas. I admit I am a bit of a snob when it comes to this beverage. Although it is not forbidden, many Hindus do not imbibe alcohol.” A fruity and floral scent wafted from the steaming pot.
“We must let it steep for a few more minutes before it reaches its full potential.”
“Darjeeling grows only in the West Bengali region of India, and each tea estate produces a leaf with its own distinct flavor and aroma. I have taken the liberty of sharing my personal favorite with you. It comes from lands that Dr. Campbell, a civil surgeon with the Indian Medical Service, planted in the middle of the nineteenth century with seeds he stole from China.”
Amy could no longer think of this man as Ed Brown. Here in Durban he was Girish Kakkar, his Indian appellation. He sat back in his chair and took a few minutes to admire the pink bougainvillea hanging over the wall of the terrace. He then turned his full attention to Amy.
“You have decided to take on the assignment,” Kakkar stated simply as they sat engulfed in the scent of jasmine. She nodded in agreement. He poured tea for both of them, and put a heaping teaspoon of sugar into his own cup. He stirred it in a thoughtful manner as Amy nibbled on a sweetmeat. He took a sip of tea swishing it in his mouth as a wine connoisseur might sample a new vintage, thoroughly tasting and savoring the flavor. He set his cup down, and finally spoke.
“Stephen was a friend, a trusted adviser and agent. His absence leaves a hole.”
Amy sat patiently, but she needed information. “What can you tell me?” she whispered.
“Things are much as they were when I saw you in Stellenbosch. Who supplied the arms to Robert Widdon is still a mystery. We know more about Stephen’s untimely death, but how you managed to escape is still not clear to some of us.”
Amy could not tell if he was friend or foe. He paused to look at her and seemed to be struggling with a decision.
”A third party, whose goals are in direct opposition to our own, sabotaged the mission. We were not sure to whom you owed allegiance. Your indoctrination was solely in Stephen's control and untested. How you evaded death in Cartagena remains a mystery. Your loyalties were in question.”
“Are they still?” Amy asked without rancor as she sipped her tea.
“To some,” he replied. “The last few months were a trial -a test of your tenacity and ability in the face of adversity.”
Amy was not mollified by his words. She endeavored to keep the tone of her voice unemotional. “This journey is one of discovery. What is the mission of your organization?”
“Our goal is neither esoteric nor spiritual, although many of us think of ourselves as spiritual beings fulfilling our karmic duties. Our purpose is simple Dr. Mohr. We wish to feed India.”
Amy sat stunned and confused. She looked at him waiting for something more. After sipping his tea once again, he continued.
“India sits on a knife edge. Our population has grown to the point that, if the monsoons do not come, crops will fail and people will starve. A hungry man is dangerous not only to himself. He is much more susceptible to those who advocate violence and war to survive. India, for the most part, has not stepped into that quagmire as yet, but we have been truly fortunate. The rains have not failed recently. But they will. Weather patterns are changing. Our goal is to soften the blow when it comes. Southern Africa could be the breadbasket of the world. Peace must be maintained.”
The hint of a smile passed momentarily across his lips.
“Our goal is simple: Feed India to keep the peace. We believe our best hope is if we can save Africa from self-destruction.”
Amy dared a question that she feared might have dire consequences if asked of the wrong person, but the time for action had arrived.
“Exactly where do the loyalties of the Indians of Durban lie?”
“What do you mean?” Girish Kakkar feigned lack of understanding.
“The Indians o
f Durban have been here almost two hundred years. The yoke of their servitude ended long ago. Here in Africa they are not burdened by the boundaries of the caste system as they would be in India. Why should they care whether or not India starves?”
He looked at Amy as if reevaluating his previous assessment of her. “My great, great, great grandfather came here to Africa in the first labor migration. Life was hard, but no more difficult than conditions in our ancestral village in southern India. He married and plied his natural skills as an astute business man. I am an African Indian. War here would be devastating to the people of Durban as well as to all the other civilized individuals of Africa.”
“I see,” Amy replied without further comment.
Girish Kakkar looked at her dubiously. “What did you learn from Stephen’s papers?”
Amy set down her empty tea cup. “I learned that Stephen is a master at creating infuriating puzzles. I assume you have seen copies of the documents passed on to me.”
“I have.”
“Did you make any sense out of them?”
Kakkar shook his head. “We hoped you would see something we could not. You did study with him for several years.”
“That is true. But if he was leaving me a message, I do not know what it is. I hope to find a key here in Durban.” Amy waited a few heart beats then looked up at him.
“I need to talk to Nathan Reynolds. Do you know how I can contact him?”
“He and his team are still in Kruger. Why Nathan Reynolds?”
“I have traveled a long way on what has been, so far, a fruitless journey. I want to see if he has had any better luck tracking arms dealers.”
Amy took a plane the next morning from Durban to Nelspruit, and rented a car from there to get to Kruger. Ed Brown gave her Reynolds’ cell phone number. She waited until she had checked into the Sabie River Lodge before calling him. She needed to talk about Ed Brown, and it might be that Reynolds was the only unbiased ear available.
He agreed to meet her in the lobby later the next day. The rainy season was very wet, and all varieties of life had rejuvenated. Baby animals ran everywhere. The rains that began in November were at their mid-summer peak. Much of the wildlife had dispersed back up into the northern regions of Kruger Park now that the rains had returned. Although the water courses beneath the raised deck of the lodge were full, there was no threat of flooding this year.
Amy spent the day reading and shifting locations when sporadic downpours seeped through the thatched roof. Workman did their best to dispatch buckets to catch streams of water, but the task was endless. The contrast between now and her last visit during the dry winter season was beyond description. But the weather fit her mood.
Amy smiled when Reynolds made his appearance. He looked no worse for wear, just a little wetter. He seemed indifferent to the rain. Amy found them a dry spot in the small dining room and brought him a cup of coffee.
“How’re Mavis and the team doing?” she asked casually before going onto more serious business.
Reynolds set his dripping brimmed hat on the floor next to him. “Weather is too wet to get much done in the field. Only good thing about the rain is that it slows down the poachers too.” He sipped his coffee appreciatively. “Jeffrey’s fine. Paul has been in and out of the hospital for the last few weeks. Jeffrey’s been spending time with him there in Johannesburg.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Something with his lungs. Doctors aren’t saying much.”
“I’m sorry,” said Amy sincerely. “So you’ve been on your own lately.”
“No. I’ve taken on a new team member -at least for the rainy season. “So what’s up, blondie? What brings you back to South Africa?” Reynolds expression was unreadable.
“I have a question about the munitions trade in the park.”
Reynolds sipped on his coffee and nodded for her to continue.
“Did it stop when Robert Widdon died?”
Reynolds put down his coffee cup and shook his head. “It slowed for a while, but it didn’t stop. When the rainy season started, it slowed down a lot more, but that’s because ammo and water don't mix well.”
“Any idea where the weapons are coming from?”
“I think my new partner might know a bit more about that.”
Amy gave him a questioning look. Reynolds peered up over and past Amy’s head. She turned around to see Mike Stone dripping water, standing in a puddle, six feet behind her.
Mike took off his sodden jacket and draped it over a nearby chair. He removed his baseball cap and sat down. He looked her straight in the eye.
“Hello, Amy,” he said coolly.
Amy was at a loss for words. Her mind spun in a myriad of directions. He was the last person she expected to see.
Reynolds picked up his hat from the floor and stood up. “I’ll just leave you two alone. There are a few things you need to talk about.” Reynolds swaggered out of the dining room laughing to himself.
Chapter 39
The summer rains arrive from November onwards, peak in January and February and end around April. The Kruger is transformed into a beautiful, thriving green landscape and it makes for superb photography. During the "Green Season", game viewing is still good - with many young summer-born animals around it's a predator's paradise - and it's also the best time to visit the Kruger for bird watching as well as safari-and-beach holiday combinations.-www.go2africa.com
Mike didn’t try to hide his resentment.
“I went looking for you. You ignored emails. Your phone disconnected. I even had someone check your house in the States. It was as if you fell off the edge of the Earth.”
“In a very real way, I did,” she replied sensing his hurt and his anger at being hurt. She waited several seconds before continuing.
“I needed not to be an influence between you and Francoise -and your daughter.”
Mike pinched his eyes closed as if in some sort of pain, and when he opened them he looked down at her with less hostility. Francoise wasn’t the subject he wanted to talk about at the moment.
“Why did you return, Amy?” he asked sullenly.
“They hired me to find out who supplied the arms that my cousin sold to Bonner. The path led me back here.”
“No other reason?”
Amy said nothing and could not even look him in the eye.
“I told you about my last mission with my mentor Stephen. He died while we were attempting to free a political prisoner.” Amy glanced up.
Mike nodded.
“That was the story at least. It was a ruse to set up Stephen's assassination.”
“Why?”
“Stephen got too close to finding out who supplied arms to various regions in Africa. Widdon’s job was to distribute them and foment unrest and instability, but he needed a supplier. Stephen had enough evidence to implicate certain individuals. They wanted him dead so he couldn’t reveal this information.”
“So what have you found?”
“Not much. I have hints, but definitive proof is elsewhere.” Amy turned to Mike.
“Stephen left a cryptic message with a friend of his in California. It wasn’t meant for just anyone to decipher. I’m the only one who could have done it. I know what it means, but it points fingers to another location. I haven't figured that part out yet. The message is almost as cryptic as those ancient texts he had me study.”
Amy folded her hands on her lap.
“The organization Stephen belonged to is experiencing a schism of sorts. There is a group, based and financed in India that wishes to keep the peace in Africa. They want Africa to become the subcontinent’s bread basket when India can no longer produce enough food to feed itself. That time is approaching sooner than most would like to believe. The birthrate is too high, and there’s better medical care. People are living longer. They grow genetically modified rice with a higher nutrient content that has lowered the death rate even further. India is barely able to feed its population right now, a
nd if the monsoons fail people will starve. “
Mike stared at her. He didn’t know where she was headed with this.
“A second group also wants peace in Africa, not for any reason other than Africa's their home, and they believe war is not good for anyone. But there is a third faction that is promoting civil unrest and political upheaval in Africa. They want Africa to bleed. They plan to disrupt the situation enough so that both the agricultural and mineral wealth of the continent can be theirs to control. They don’t believe there is any hope that Africa will be able to fix its problems before chaos sets in. They want the leftovers and they are not beyond pushing it over the edge.”
“Pretty diabolical.” Mike sounded a bit dubious.
“It is diabolical -evil even,” Amy looked away. “I never penetrated into the inner sanctum of the organization as Stephen had. My death would mean nothing to them. But Stephen left me the clues, because he trusted that even without him, there would be someone who could carry on from where he left off.”
They sat quietly next to each other for a few moments. “What are you doing here, Mike?”
Mike looked down at his feet before answering. “I needed work. The tourist business is slow. People don’t take safaris in the rains and the political unrest in the unplanned settlements is scaring potential visitors away too. SAI asked me to follow through with Reynolds to see if we could find out who was running the guns into the country. It seemed a good match.”
“So we are really after the same thing?” Amy asked.
“Sounds like it.”
“Do you think we can work together on this?” She finally met his eyes.
“We had better learn how. I don’t know anything except what you’ve told me about the existence of this Indian organization. We’ve made some progress in tracing the munitions to low level middlemen, but we haven’t gotten close to finding out who controls events yet. Your cousin was merely a petty go-between. Of that we’re certain. We suspected an Indian connection, but they aren’t the only ones trying to destabilize Africa. Tell me what you know.”
