The Storm

They were not government representatives but businessmen, men with an interest in Ji

“By the grace of Allah we are together again,” Ji

“Please dispense with the religious pronouncements,” Mr. Xhou said. “And tell us of your progress. You have called us here to ask for more funding and we have yet to see the effects that you’ve already promised.”

Xhou’s bluntness rankled Ji

“As you know, General Aziz has been unable to release the assets he promised.”

“Perhaps wisely,” Xhou said. “So far, we’ve spent billions, with little to show for it. I now hold two million acres of worthless Mongolian desert. If your boasts do not come true soon, my patience will end.”

“I assure you,” Ji

He clicked a remote, and the little screens in front of each guest lit up. A larger screen on the wall showed the same diagram, a color representation of the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean. Red, orange and yellow sectors displayed temperature gradients. Circulating arrows showed the direction and speed of the currents.

“This is the standard current pattern of the Indian Ocean based on the averages of the last thirty years,” Ji

Ji

“As you know, the temperature and pressure gradients drive the winds. The winds drive the ocean currents, and together they produce either dry air or monsoon rains. In this case, pumping moisture over India and Southeast Asia, creating the monsoon rains that drench those lands, allowing them to feed their massive populations.”

New animation on the display showed clouds streaming over India and into Bangladesh, Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand.

“We know all this,” Mustafa of Pakistan said abruptly. “We have seen this demonstration before. While they have abundant crops, our lands remain dry. Your sands are parched. We have come here to see if you are succeeding in changing this for we have invested a fortune in your scheme.”

“Yes, that’s right,” another representative said.

“Would I have called you all together if I had no proof?”

“If you have it, show us,” Xhou demanded.

Ji

“Three years ago we began to seed the horde into the eastern quadrant of the Indian Ocean.”

On screen, a small, irregularly shaped triangle appeared near the equator.

“Each year—with your funds—we have seeded further sections. Each year, the horde, as promised, has grown on its own. Two years ago it covered ten percent of the target area.”

The irregular triangle elongated and stretched with the current. A second curving section stretched toward it from the west.

“A year ago it reached thirty percent saturation.”

Another click, another diagram. The two dark smears joined and were spreading across the southern loop of the Indian Ocean current.

“We already know that the rains have become less plentiful in India. Last year’s crop was the lightest in decades. This year they will be waiting on clouds that do not come.”

He clicked the remote one more time. The sparse black swaths had thi

“Water temperatures are dropping, but the air temperatures above the sea are increasing, becoming more like the fluctuations one feels over the land,” Ji

The group seemed impressed. All except Xhou.

“The starvation of India will do none of us any good,” he said. “Aside, perhaps, from Mustafa, who sees them as an old enemy. Our intent is to have grain to sell them when their silos are bare. Which ca

“Of course,” Ji

Xhou settled back with a harrumph and folded his arms. He did not appear satisfied.

“The science is simple,” Ji

Sheik Alhrama of Saudi Arabia spoke next. “How is it no one has spotted your horde? Surely something this large ca

“The swarm remains below the surface during the day. It keeps the heat from penetrating into the ocean’s lower levels by absorbing it. When night falls, the swarm surfaces and radiates the heat back into the sky. There is nothing to see. A normal satellite picture will show only ocean water. A thermal image will show odd radiation.”

“What about water samples?” Xhou asked.

“Unless it, the horde, is placed in its most aggressive setting, even a sample of water will appear to the naked eye as little more than cloudy, perhaps polluted, water. Unless they are viewed under an extremely powerful microscope, the microbots of the horde ca

“Not all of them.”

Ji

“What is he talking about?” Mustafa asked.

“A small research vessel took us by surprise,” Ji

Xhou shook his head. “The Americans you speak of come from an organization known as NUMA. The National Underwater and Marine Agency.”

A murmur went through the group, and Ji

“It could not be helped,” he said. “We had no reason to suspect a sailboat with a crew of three. They filed no permits, made no a

“What happened?” the Sheik asked.