My name is Enala Mahwah. I am an elder of the Serpent Clan, near to what the whitefella calls Cuncudgerie. I have lived all of my many years in those lands, and have seen much in my travels, and have always known there are strange beings that live amongst us, for I have met them and spoken with them. Yet, I have never seen such strange and dark things as those this group of people have shown me. Even at my age, it seems, there are still lessons I must learn, and knowledge I must bring back to my people. My very faith has been shaken and I am not sure how much more this old body can take, but I will not have taken this trip in vain, even if such things cause my death, for I know where it is I shall return. My people never die, merely transition, and travel to Alcheringa to await those who seek our knowledge.
I had never been in an airplane, as McCloud called it, before, though I had seen them flying over my tribe's lands before, like great metal birds. When it landed, it was a rough one - the beast bounced over the ground like a fledgling before finally coming to a halt. There was some commotion in the back as I awoke, but it resolved quickly, and we soon found ourselves in a strange new land. McCloud calls this land Africa, and this city Mombasa, and tells me it lies far over the sea from my homeland. It is filled with people darker-skinned even than my people, all of them in long robes and many of the women with their faces and hair covered. He tells me this is because of their faith, and I do not question it - it is not my place to determine how another finds spiritual peace, after all.
McCloud also says that his friend, the Birdman, has information we must seek in a city further north of Mombasa, but that there is also a lead here, one Ahja Singh, who owns a shipping company. We were given the location of this place, and told to look into it. While Muuzaji dealt with the cargo we were carrying, the rest of us began making arrangements somewhere to sleep. McCloud tells me that such places are known as hotels in the whitefella world, a sort of temporary village for fellow travelers to rest in. Ludwig, the doctor, arranged the rooms - McCloud also tells me there is a separation between the whitefella and blackfella here too, and that it is somewhat more aggressive, but it seems the two whitefellas was able to convince the owners of the hotel to allow both myself and Muuzaji inside.
This arranged, we met back up with Muuzaji and traveled to the location which the Birdman spoke of. However, halfway there, she turned to us, getting our attention.
"There is a Sikh man following us," she murmured, and McCloud casually glanced back to look. "He is wearing a turban, and has dark eyes. I saw him before, too, outside of the hotel. I do not know his purpose in following us, but he has been doing so since we arrived here..."
Now it was my turn to glance back, and I too saw the man - swarthy and wearing a turban - and clearly tracking us, but trying to be cautious about it. Something about him set me on edge, perhaps the cold look in his eyes, and I shuddered.
"We should move quickly, into the crowds," I murmured, and the group followed suit, zig-zagging as we melted into the sea of people surrounding us. Soon, we found ourselves away from the man and at our destination. When we knocked at the door of the warehouse's office, however, we nearly thought we had seen double, for the man who answered proved to look just like the man who had been following us!
"Did we... meet earlier?" Ludwig asked, a bushy eyebrow raised in suspicion.
"I wouldn't suppose so," the man replied, confusion marring his dark features. "I have been here in my office all day, doing paperwork!"
"He thought we might have seen you, that's all," McCloud clarified, stepping forward. "Sorry about that, we've been a bit tired from the trip over. A friend of ours wanted us to speak to a Mr. Singh, I suppose that's you?"
"The very same," was the jovial response. "Please, come inside, it is much cooler in here than out there!"
Ahja Singh proved to be a kindly man when we met him, and even offered us a flavorful mint tea in his office as we asked what questions we had. No, he was not aware of any sort of cult shipping materials to his warehouse, though he apparently knew a bit about the Bloody Tongue cult in these regions, which had attacked his warehouse on occasion. When we explained we were to travel to Nairobi, he became nervous, and warned us against crossing the cult - they were dangerous, he said, and bloodthirsty, especially towards foreign travelers.
He also offered an explanation, when I asked, for the turban and the knife at his hip - they were markers of his faith. "I am a somewhat pious man, though my current career does not suggest it," he said. "I am a Sikh, from India."
"I have not been many places," was my admission, "But I am interested in learning of the world. Are there many followers of your faith?"
"Admittedly, we are dwindling in number at the current," replied Singh, "Hinduism is much more common in India. We are certainly not the dominant religion, but we are strong, faithful people. At the least, I would like to believe so."
I of course found this fascinating, but of greater interest to the others than the man's religious beliefs was his shipping operation in general. Apparently, the man dealt in the same sort of dealings as Muuzaji and her companion, but otherwise seemed to be above board. Aside from that material and tea from abroad, he did not ship anything suspicious - McCloud was even allowed to look at Singh's shipping manifests to be certain, and told us there was nothing otherwise strange about them.
"About the only people I ever receive or ship to would be a few... clients overseas, and to my brother, Tandoor, in Nairobi," said Singh, sipping at his tea thoughtfully. "He runs a tea shop there. I would be quite careful if you intend to speak with him, however; he is rather... well, somewhat dangerous when crossed. It's possible you saw him earlier and mistook him for me - we're identical twins, you see - though what he'd be doing in Mombasa I can't really say. Now, friends, if there is anything else I can help you with?"
The next stretch of time was spent in pleasant conversation, but nothing else of interest came up. With our questions mostly answered, we eventually took our leave, this time with Muuzaji leading the group and keeping close watch for anyone following us. She saw nothing as we made our way to the hotel. We rested while the others made preparations for later travel, though Muuzaji has not relaxed for a moment since leaving the plane.
"Enala," she confided, glancing at the door, "Are you aware of what happened on the plane while you slept?"
I admitted that I was not, and so she told me the entire story, of the two cultists whom had crept aboard and the horrible thing one of them had done, and how somehow they had been subdued and left without trouble. It was, however, what she told me that they had confided in herself and McCloud that had me worried.
"Both mentioned the same man," Muuzaji murmured, her dark eyes grave with concern. "An Indian man that sells tea. I am concerned they may have been referring to the man that was following us. He certainly looked Indian."
"Are you certain you can trust such men not to lie, my child?" I asked, taking the concern seriously. I had seen what the Sand-Bat and His followers could do, and I did not trust them either. "Perhaps they are misleading you..."
"Maybe, but combined with what Ahja has said about his brother, I am not so sure. He did say not to cross the man, and that his brother sold tea... That makes three people who have warned us about the same man now."
"You are certain of this?" My eyes met hers.
"The two cultists attempted to murder each other, I highly doubt that they are working together to mislead us."
I could not convince her otherwise, for she is a stubborn but strong woman, and she would not speak of it more. For the rest of the night, she vows to keep watch. At least I have gotten her aid in writing down this much of our journey, and giving me somewhat of a voice within the group.
It is late now, and I am tired. We are to travel to Nairobi early in the morning tomorrow, just before the sun rises. The others tell me travel will be by train. At last, something that I am familiar with in these strange lands and stranger times!
-- Enala Mahwa, Resting for the Journey (September 2nd, 1928)