Three Degrees: Book 1, The Tempestas Series

by Jim Wurst

  Hesitating a bit, Sam answered, “Actually, that was going to be my first question…”

  Ignoring Sam, Theo was already in professorial mode. “First, remember that until a few decades ago this wasn’t desert. It was the Sahel, a vibrant ecosystem of plants and wildlife that kept the Sahara at bay. The desert finally won, but there is arable soil underneath all this sand.

  “In many parts of the world, we are planting genetically enhanced trees derived from native species that should be more adaptable to the changed environment absorbing more carbon, using less water, resisting insects and extreme heat, even providing timber and firewood, but that’s secondary here we need the trees alive more than dead. We’re having some luck in former rain forests. Despite the deforestation, vast areas of soil were never fully depleted or polluted. Here it’s different. While 70 years ago Katsina was savannah, the desert had been close for centuries and the land was never especially suited for a concentration of trees. The soil is poor and for a region never densely populated, an unusual amount of pollution. For decades, toxic wastes from industrial countries were secretly dumped here. We had a promising site near Galma, but it turns out nuclear waste had been dumped there decades ago. No one knew. What little soil and water we might have been able to exploit is permanently useless.”

  “So why even try?” Sam asked.

  “A desert can grow so a desert can shrink. There’s nothing special about this place in terms of agronomy, but there are other considerations.” And now he finally turned to his colored map. “The red spots are bio stations and agronomy centers. The irregular green shapes are trees, as you can see, they are not large. The yellow line is the Sahel water pipeline. You’ve seen the purification plants on the Morocco coast?” Sam nodded, but Theo didn’t care. “It’s been reasonably successful in desalinating and cleansing water and pumping it into the interior in limited quantities. However, it uses too much energy and the pumps and filters get constantly overloaded.

  “Then there are the political problems of running a pipeline through so many countries. Too many authorities, too many bribes. See that strip east of Bamako? It doesn’t connect to anything else, no water, no pumps, just pipes. They built that section of pipe was built as a bribe for something else I don’t want to know about. Someday it may connect to the end stations, but that time and money could have been better spent on the purification plants or contiguous piece of the pipeline.”

  “No water, no pipeline, so why are you here?”

  “Katsina has advantages: If we can grow a reasonable, healthy forest without the pipeline, then we have a chance of a mature ecosystem by the time the pipeline is ready. That will lead to an exponential growth of the ecosystem once water is at hand. Timbuktu and Niamey have the same potential.

  “We are tragically only recreating what we lost some 30 years ago. At the beginning of the century, when climate change was finally accepted, there were major reforestation projects undertaken all over the world. The programs in the Sahel a name that really doesn’t have any meaning anymore since the Sahara has taken it over, were among the most successful. On the one hand, they left the trees alone, farmers planted food crops among them and on the other, they planted millions of new trees. Gao, doum, baobab was planted across the region. It was a success story. But the Great Drought, followed by the changing patterns of Sahara winds, except for a few trees. A few trees were saved. Many of our trees are direct descendants of those unlucky trees.”

  “But why here? Don’t areas of more fertile soil allow for creating better carbon sinks?”

  “Yes, that’s what’s happening in the Amazon, the temporal forests of Canada and Russia, and where possible, Indonesia. These trees make inefficient carbon sinks, but that’s not the point the point is to improve the arability of the region, recreate the ecosystem, thus encouraging people to move back into the interior. The trees make it worth it to build the pipeline through here, the water in the pipeline helps the trees, both help the people. But it has to start with the trees.”

  “Seems to me it should start with water, meaning the pipeline.”

  “Logically, of course, I agree. But the pipeline is a piece of bureaucracy, trees are trees.”

  “And animals are animals. You said ecosystem that means more than trees. You need animals, birds, insects, burrowing mammals. What about those?”

  “Exactly.” He didn’t want to admit Sam’s insight impressed him. “We are carefully introducing indigenous insects and a few birds. It’s difficult to replicate nature’s balance, but we are having limited success. Of course, when the Galma trees died, so did the insects. The birds flew off. A few made it to here. But the rest…” And he gave his characteristic shrug.

  “I’d like to see some of Katsina itself.”

  “Suit yourself. Not much to see anymore except the Gobarau Mosque. That is fascinating, built of mud and palm with hardly any wood, no stone, and it’s the second sturdiest building in the city.”

  “And the first?”

  “My station, of course.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Zhidoi was as miserable a place as Mosel expected. Everything, even the people, was in place to service the industries of the city. Both because of pollution and neglect, there were few trees. Some people had a valiantly tried to maintain small kitchen gardens, but they produced more frustration than vegetables. As an American, she had to register at one of the better hotels something she would have done anyway, even if it was out of her own pocket.

  Her contact was through a classic dead drop. The drop followed a pre-arranged pattern. There were four benches in a park at roughly the four cardinal points. The hours overlaid the points but in reverse thus north was six, not 12, and so on. Following on from that, the message “NN” meant to pick up the data on the north bench at 6pm; “EW” meant the east bench at 3pm. They encrypted the data was on a fine wafer that was small enough to fit on a fingertip and not fall off. A plain plastic adhesive kept it attached to the bench. Since they introduced these chips into spy craft, the standard procedure if compromised was to swallow the wafer. It would eventually pass through, but the data likely would get eaten away in the digestive tract.

  They advised operatives to consume as much citrus as possible to aid the destruction. Therefore, Mosel had a bottle of hard-to-get grapefruit juice in her room. She knew they were developing a biodegradable wafer that would vanish after less than an hour in the stomach. But this was not a priority case, thus the grapefruit juice.

  Once back at her hotel, the wafer fit into a traditional drive that the computer could read. Every day, there was nothing special to report. On the fourth day, there was nothing at the drop. Same on the fifth. On the sixth day, a twig with its bark scraped off stuck in the slats of the bench. The contact was finished. Mosel went back to her room, reported, deleted all her files, the wafers flushed immediately after downloading, and the delete folder “burned.”

  She was more curious than startled when someone knocked on her door. She put the computer in the desk drawer and went to the door. A Chinese state police captain and a civilian were standing there.

  “Ms. Erica Mosel?” said the captain.

  “Yes.”

  “This is for you,” he said as he held out an envelope. Mosel couldn’t remember the last time anyone had handed her a paper envelope.

  “There must be some mistake. I’m an attaché at the US consulate in Shanghai, you can’t arrest me.”

  Arrest? Oh no, this isn’t a warrant. It’s an invitation,” he said, exposing the most mirthless smile imaginable.

  “A what?”

  “An invitation to an official briefing at Site 755. Please be at the main gate at 1330 hours. Please do not bring any recording or communication devices. I understand you know the way to the facility.”

  Arriving at the appointed hour, Mosel wasn’t surprised to see her invitation was not exclusive. Official car
s from Japan, the EU, Russia, the United Nations and Brazil all arrived at the same time. Discreet small talk revealed that no one had any enlightening information.

  First thing when they entered the compound was to deposit all phones and other communication devices with the guards. This was a superfluous condition no one was fool enough to turn their equipment over to the PLA, everyone had left their phones with their drivers. Since she didn’t have a driver, Mosel asked the EU driver to hold on to her phone. It was a request for show. Mosel had left her real phone in Shanghai. She was carrying a new, cheap phone that contained only the number for the consulate. It was not even possible to tell it was Cheng who sent her. But she didn’t want to be the only one to give her phone to the army. Next was the optic scanner to ensure they were in fact the people invited. Finally, a body scan to detect hidden communication devices (like a chip in an artificial kneecap?).

  Under armed escort, they all walked at a pace designed to be uncomfortable until they reached a room marked “Conference Room 4.” Mosel wondered if the other delegates noticed that the nameplate was newer than those of the rooms they had passed. They entered a sterile conference room with room for 100 but with just enough chairs for the officials invited. There was a low-rise stage with a simple podium off to the side. A massive panel took up most of the wall behind the stage. They painted everything in an industrial anti-color. The only color was the Chinese flag on one side and the PLA flag on the other. After everyone sat down, the guards took positions at the main door and a small side door. Then a guard opened the side door, and a general hurried to the stage. They had placed the podium on the opposite side of the stage from the door, so the general got to walk the full length of the stage as if in a parade.

  “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen” he was able to say “ladies” because besides Mosel, the EU, typically, had sent a woman. “Thank you for arriving so promptly. My name is General Xi Xuan of the Scientific and Innovation Bureau of the People’s Liberation Army. I know you are all reasonably conversant in Chinese, but I have my reasons for speaking in English. I will ask you no questions, there is nothing you can tell me I don’t already know. I am here to answer questions.” And on cue, the panel lightened and became a window.

  On the other side of the window was a factory floor dominated by a long, sleek machine with a massive appendage jutting out from the top. It was the Chinese Device. The air was buzzing with mental notetaking for the inevitable future debriefing: the size, how many components, any way to tell what materials they used, what were the dimensions of the appendage was it stationary or mobile? It was larger than we estimated, Mosel thought, and wondered again if anyone else had as much information as did the US. The variant converter was also larger than expected, making the device at least ten times larger than estimated.

  “The machine you see behind me is the latest advance in Chinese technology. It is based on revolutionary principles of physics. I understand in the United States, this is referred to as the Chinese Device. While the name demonstrates a profound lack of understanding as to the nature of our invention, that name will suffice for this briefing.

  “The Chinese Device represents an exponential leap forward in essential technology. While the power source is a simple nuclear reactor and the superstructure is constructed of basic alloys, the technology within is unlike anything else produced anywhere in the world. Once construction is completed and the Device is operating at full capacity, we will demonstrate to the world the next magnificent contribution the Chinese civilization has created for the betterment of the human race.

  “Computer and laboratory tests have been underway for eight months. We fully expect to conduct an actual test by the new year the Chinese New Year, of course.

  You may report to your capitals now. Anyone remaining in Zhidoi after 1200 tomorrow will be deported as an undesirable alien. Thank you for your attention.”

  The window turned into a wall again. Walking marching across the stage, General Xi left by the same door, not deigning to glance at his audience. Once he was off the stage, the guards wordlessly opened the doors.

  CHAPTER 38

  Ruth was in her quarters. It was a breezy room filled with as much non-scientific stuff as possible: art from Borneo, China, Kenya, India; the traditional family photos holographically projected from her clock; a much-ignored flute; and stuffed animals, mostly of primates. A toy orangutan coincidently the same size Rabu was at that moment propped up on her pillows. It was down time, a quiet moment. She was on the computer, talking to her mother who was half a world away.

  “Mom, are you sure you don’t want me to come home? I feel strange being here while you’re campaigning.”

  “I’m sure,” Lilly said, “Your work is too valuable...” She didn’t know about Rabu, the need for secrecy extended to opensource communications “... And we know what this is really about. Your reality needs to take precedence over my symbolism.”

  “Well, I still don’t think it’s symbolic. This is a real campaign with a serious chance of victory.”

  “I’ll leave that to Senator Cranston and his team. I know what I need to do and will just keep plugging away until Election Day. So, what’s new?”

  Don’t say it. “The couple I’ve been monitoring seem very happy, no signs of stress. What’s most interesting at the moment is that their range is expanding, meaning they’re feeling more secure. Very positive.”

  “She’s child-bearing age, isn’t she? Any sign of a new arrival?”

  “Not yet,” as she hurried on to the next subject, “The signing is advancing. I’m going to introduce more abstract words soon and see if they take hold.”

  “You see. Why would you walk away from all that?”

  CHAPTER 39

  They were waiting in a small conference room at the Academy.

  “… Maybe there’s a new assignment…”

  “I already told you I know nothing,” Peter said, “Stop speculating.”

  “But…”

  Peter stopped him. Holding up his phone, he waved it around the room. The room was likely bugged, so silence was best. Then, without warning or formalities, General Adams entered the room. The two captains snapped to attention.

  “As you were, gentlemen. Have a seat.” He motioned to the men to sit on either side of him. “Captain McClellan, you’ve opened the box from your father and viewed its contents?” Ike stayed silent. “Don’t worry. Rank has its privileges. All listening devices are turned off. This is a private conversation. If someone has taken it upon himself to ignore a direct order, I have this.” He took out a small device and laid it on the table. “If any communication device is on, this light will turn red.” He turned it on, and it immediately showed red. The captains stared at each other nervously. Adams was concerned. “Your phones are still on, I assume?” Embarrassed, the two turned off their phones. The red light went out.

  “Now then, Captain.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you needed Captain Reilly’s help to interpret the contents?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So, you both know. And what did you think?”

  Well, sir. It’s hard to absorb. It sounds as though my father… My father had a role in the Satellite War that… isn’t in the history books.”

  “A very subtle way of phrasing it. Fine. Why do you think he did what he did?”

  “He saw the signs. He saw China as the Beast rising out of the East. The floods, hurricanes, plagues, the End Times. He struck at China before it could strike us.”

  “Exactly. The Earthly authorities could not see it, but your father knew where true authority lies. And the Great Darkness, how else to describe the loss of so much communication that followed, and not only prevented the inevitable attack, but gave rise to more signs? And then the India-Pakistan nuclear war followed a year later. More Darkness, more plagues.”

  “Bu
t the End Times did not come,” Peter interjected.

  “’You shall not know the time and place,’ admonishes the Lord. The signs are still here, growing stronger even. How can you know the End Times are not here? Look at the Mars Mission, countries working together to reach into the heavens. How is this not a modern Tower of Babel, that God struck down as punishment for man’s vanity? And now we have Cranston, a traitor who wants to bring the Chinese right into the White House. A woman, a soulless scientist.”

  “But General Hayden will win. It’s inevitable,” Ike said.

  “Never say that,” he snapped, “The Devil is real and ready to take advantage of anyone who lets down his guard. That is a rule for the soldier and the Christian.”

  “What do you want of us?”

  “Before I answer that, one more thing. Ask, you know you want to ask.”

  “Were you with my father at the Pentagon on that day? There’s no sign of you on the computer files and your official biography is vague on that period.”

  “You will find the records vague on a number of people. I was your father’s second-in-command. I was at Cheyenne Mountain. What your father did, he could not have done alone. He needed someone who would walk with him and the Lord. That’s an important lesson. And now to your question, what do I want of you?”

  “Yes.”

  “To fulfill the will of both your fathers.” Turning to Peter he asked, “You’re a 360?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Interesting. A 360 and a Christian. A valuable combination. You’ll be on my staff. You’ll be my 360.”

  “Begging the General’s pardon, don’t you already have one?”

  “I do, but he’s about to get promoted and transferred.” Turning to Ike, “I can’t do the same for you we’re always under surveillance. If any of us pull together too many Christians onto our staffs, alarm bells go off and they preempt us. Adding a 360 who is a Christian is fine, but two, especially when one of them has your last name, that’s too obvious. It probably isn’t even necessary. What is required of you is already in you. No training necessary. But you,” looking at Peter, “You, I need you with me. God has a special task for you, and you are providentially suited for it.”