Lahsokra Zreltian was by all accounts a rather conservative politician. His main claim of success in what was a long if unspectacular public service career was a rather staid statement on maintenance of Arrhazonan social stability.

Zreltian was away from the capital, visiting the equatorial islands area of the eastern hemisphere. He was there mostly for pomp and circumstance, a mission to shore up support amongst the island folk, a notoriously independent lot.

The trip was scheduled to last a week. His entourage would journey through 8 major cities, as well as drive through the outlying villages. The local village folk liked that someone would take the time to pass their way, even take time to chat for a few minutes before again moving onward.

On day three, the entourage began in E’trahel, a city of 2 million on the east coast of the island which carried the name of the city. There would be a breakfast with local dignitaries, followed by a drive up the coast to the spectacular region of 100 waterfalls. The falls represented the near-end point for the Jhrede River, which fed well off the equatorial rains that fell on the volcanoes that dominated the central part of the island. As the predictable rains were squeezed out of the sky against the high volcano peaks, the water ran down to collect into what quickly became the Jhrede.

The region east was elevated through tectonic activity over millions of years. As the river crossed this plateau, it flowed lazily along – until a scant mile from the sea. There the river split into a bit over 100 separate streams, cutting into the plateau as the water sought out a place in rightful equilibrium within the sea. Each waterfall sent water downward 150 metres, producing a spectacular chain of falling water and foamy mist.

Zreltian and his minions arrived right on schedule, with media there to record the CoG’s expression of wonder at the humbling site; the better to ingratiate and be accepted by those in the islands region.

Lost in his own thoughts as an agent opened the door to the vehicle, Zreltian stepped out awkwardly, regaining a connection to the gravity that tethered him to planet beneath his feet. Walking along, thoughts of the capitol, of how it was graduation time at various schools including N’rellia, played on through his mind. The graduations inevitably brought in countless numbers of people into the city, there to witness the graduation of their particular loved one. Things tended to get a bit hectic, and traffic became bogged down.

N’rellia was on his mind as word had reached him of the valedictorian’s speech the day before. “What did the future hold for Arrhazon, what with women openly clamouring for equality?” Zreltian wondered.

His mind-wandering was brought to an end by the voice of his chief of staff, Xlirhan Hrhabre. “Please stand right over by the glass wall, sir” the chief of staff directed.

The wall was of metal glass, as strong as diamond, yet perfectly transparent. The wall ran waist high the length of the viewing area. Behind the wall was a spectacular side view of several waterfalls, marking where the land was indented from the sea, as if some sea giant had taken a bite from the land.

In the picture would be the island’s governor; the mayor of E’trahel, as well as the representatives from the region. This group of dignitaries flared out to either side of Zreltian.

The sky sported nary a cloud on this day; typical island weather. The island did have its dangerous side, from volcanism, plate tectonics, and occasionally from weather. Most days were reprises of the previous day of cloudless skies, soft breezes, and warm temperatures. Occasionally downdrafts would be triggered from cold air cascading down the volcano peaks. These drafts could run from mild to severe, and a scale had been created for the express purpose of warning residents and visitors of the danger approaching.

The scale ran from D1 through D10, D10 being most severe. Special shelters existed for this purpose.

Arrhazon technology was now toying with weather modification. Zreltian himself had signed into law a programme to develop weather modification techniques, the better to assist places with extreme weather conditions, particularly arid regions, or regions prone to severe storms.

On this day, the technology was about to make a spectacular debut. A stealth aerial craft was west of their location, approaching the designated spot for equipment activation. On the precise mark, the equipment self adjusted various devices requiring a focal point, and for precisely 12.3 seconds made use of an incredible amount of energy. Yet nothing came out of the equipment; no spray, no powder, no light, no sound. The burst completed, the craft banked sharp left and headed for home. Although its work was done, the purpose of the task remained unknown to the pilot and crew.

As the plane vacated the test area, a block of air began to agitate, cooling as the air molecules were rapidly stripped of much of their energy. As this batch of air cooled, it fell fast towards the volcano slope below, gradually bending and following the contour of the land, moving seaward. In turn displacing other air at a rapid pace, a mini-jet stream was created as the air moved toward the sea.

None of the sensors in place for this purpose detected this air burst, for they had been conveniently disabled the day before. And so it was for all those standing with Zreltian for the photo op, not one – Zreltian or any other – could possibly ever learn in 10 seconds what sent them over the glass wall, into the open jaws of the hungry sea below.