Kenner said, “I must say, it was an excellent choice. Hapalochlaena fasciata, the most deadly of the three species of blue-ringed octopus. So named because when it is threatened it changes color and produces bright blue rings on its skin. It’s found everywhere in the coastal waters of Australia. The animal is very tiny, the bite is small and almost undetectable, and envenomation is often deadly. There is no antivenom. And a bite’s not likely to be quickly recognized at a hospital in Los Angeles. Really, a masterful choice.” ^*

Evans, who was lying in the emergency room at UCLA with a respirator on his face, just stared. He was still unable to speak. But he was no longer so frightened. Janis had gone home in a huff, mentioning something about teaching an early class. Sarah was sitting by his bed, rubbing his hand gently and looking beautiful. “Where would they have gotten one?”

“I imagine they have several,” Kenner said. “They’re delicate, and don’t live very long anyway. But they are captured in fairly large numbers because the Aussies are trying to make an antivenin. You probably know the Australians lead the world in deadly poisonous animals. The most poisonous snake, the most poisonous mollusk, the most poisonous fish—all from Australia or found there.”

Evans thought, Great.

“But now of course UCLA has seen three cases. They’re on it.”

“Yes, we are,” an intern said, coming into the room. He checked Evans’s IV and his respirator. He said, “We have your preliminary blood work. It’s a tetrodotoxin, like the others. You should be up and around in about three more hours. Lucky guy.” He smiled winningly at Sarah, then walked out again.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re all right,” Kenner said. “It would have been embarrassing to lose you.”

Evans thought, What is he talking about? He was increasingly able to use his eye muscles, and he glanced over at Sarah. But she just smiled.

“Oh yes,” Kenner said. “I need you alive, Peter. At least for a while.”

Sitting in a corner of the room on his cell phone, Sanjong said, “Okay, we have some action.”

Kenner said, “Is it where we thought?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“We just got the receipt notice. They rented an aircraft last month. A C-57 transport.”

“Whew,” Kenner said.

“What does that mean?” Sarah said.

“Big aircraft. They probably need it to spray.”

She looked puzzled. “Spray?”

Sanjong said, “It’s pretty clear they’re going to disseminate AOB, ammonia-oxidizing bacteria, in large quantities. And perhaps some hydrophilic nanoparticles as well.”

“To do what?”

“Control the path of a storm,” Kenner said. “There’s some evidence that disseminated AOB at altitude can shift a hurricane or cyclone track. Hydrophilic nanoparticles potentiate the effect. At least in theory. I don’t know if it’s been tried on a large system.”

“They’re going to control a hurricane?”

“They’re going to try.”

“Maybe not,” Sanjong said. “Tokyo says some recent cellular and Internet traffic suggests that the project may be canceled.”

“Then they don’t have the initial conditions?”

“Looks like they don’t, no.”

Evans coughed. “Oh good,” Kenner said. “You’re coming around.” He patted his arm. “Just rest now, Peter. Try and sleep if you can. Because, as you know, today is the big day.”

“The big day?” Sarah said.

“The conference begins in about five and a half hours,” Kenner said. He stood to go, then turned back to Evans. “I’m going to have Sanjong stay with you the rest of the night,” he said. “I think you’ll be all right here, but they’ve already made one attempt on your life, and I don’t want them to try another.”

Sanjong smiled and sat on the chair beside the bed, a stack of magazines beside him. He opened the latest issue of Time magazine. The cover story was “Climate Change Doomsday Ahead.” He also had Newsweek: “Abrupt Climate Change—A New Scandal for the Administration?” And The Economist: “Climate Change Rears Its Ugly Head.” And Paris-Match: “Climat: Le Nouveau Péril Américain.”

Sanjong smiled cheerfully. “Just rest now,” he said.

Evans closed his eyes.