Contract with God aka The Moses Expedition

83

CAIRO, EGYPT

Thursday, 20 July 2006. 9:56 a.m.

It wasn’t even ten in the morning and the junior meteorologist’s shirt was already soaked through. He had been on the phone the whole morning doing someone else’s job. It was the height of the summer season and everyone who was anyone had left and was on the shore of Sharm El Sheikh, pretending to be an expert diver.

But this was one task that could not be postponed. The beast that was approaching was too dangerous.

For what seemed like the thousandth time since he had confirmed the readings on his instruments, the official picked up the phone and called another of the areas due to be affected by the forecast.

‘Port of Aqaba.’

‘Salaam aleikum, this is Jawar Ibn Dawud, from the Al-Qahira Meteorological Institute.’

‘Aleikum salaam, Jawar, this is Najjar.’ Even though the two men had never met they had spoken on the phone a dozen times. ‘Can you call me back in a few minutes? I’m really busy this morning.’

‘Listen to me, this is important. Early this morning we spotted a huge air mass. It’s extremely hot and it’s headed your way.’

‘A simoon? Coming this way? Shit, I’ll have to call my wife and tell her to bring in the laundry.’

‘You’d better stop joking. This is one of the biggest I’ve ever seen. It’s off the charts. Extremely dangerous.’

The meteorologist in Cairo could almost hear the harbourmaster swallowing hard on the other end of the line. Like all Jordanians, he had learned to respect and fear the simoon, a sandstorm that moved in a circular motion like a tornado, with speeds of up to 100 miles per hour and temperatures of 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Anyone unlucky enough to witness a simoon in full force out in the open died instantly of cardiac arrest due to the intense heat, and the body was robbed of all moisture, leaving an empty, dried-out carcass where only minutes before there had been a human being. Luckily, modern weather forecasts gave civilians sufficient time to take precautions.

‘I understand. Do you have a vector?’ said the harbourmaster, now clearly worried.

‘It left the Sinai desert a few hours ago. I think it’s just going to graze Aqaba, but it will feed on the currents there and explode over your central desert. You’ll have to call everyone so they can relay the message.’

‘I know how the network works, Jawar. Thank you.’

‘Just make sure that nobody sails before tonight, OK? If not, you’ll be collecting mummies in the morning.’