Prologue

 “What was once a populated city is now underwater.” Karla reported. “You can see behind me, the water line has been rising all day.”

In the van, Ryder had two feeds. One screen showed Karla in front of the raging floodwaters. The other showed the Anchor Desk at the studio, where Gordon was reporting to the audience. Ryder tapped his headset. “Karla, tell them where we’re reporting from.”

“Gordon, I’m currently standing on the top floor of a five story parking garage.” Karla turned to gesture at landmarks. “This is the middle of town; and it’s completely flooded out. Thousands of people a day go through this street, but now it’s a river.”

On the newsfeed, the studio was giving the public updates of where to call, or how to track missing loved ones, displaced by the flood. “Wrap it up, Ace; we gotta get out of here before the waters rise any higher.”

Karla dropped her ‘professional’ manner and scampered, grabbing the camera and tripod. He opened the van doors for her, and she hurried out of the rain. “I don’t know why we have to be on the scene for any of this. We can give the same facts from the studio.”

“A thousand eyes change the channel every second we’re not relevant.” Ryder said patiently. “I mean, you’re right; but someone with a phone and a twitter account can have ‘live’ footage of floodwaters. Even the biggest media companies are trying to keep up with amateurs now.”

While he squared away the camera, Karla climbed into the passenger seat, and Ryder hurried to take the wheel. The Parking structure was closed, as the floodwaters rose. While they’d been filming, the water kept rising, so as they made their way to street level, the water started coming in at their feet.

“We can handle that, right?” Karla asked automatically.

“Yeah. Engine has a snorkel.” Ryder worked the gears. “This thing has covered floods, volcanoes, and riots. We’ll get to higher ground. The real question is how much of our expensive electronic gear is going to stay dry.” He peered out at the flooded roads. Several cars had already tried it, or had remained parked in the flood zone, and were being carried away, some of them floating into their path. “You went to college around here. Which streets go downhill? I can’t really see the ground right now.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna wanna head to the right.” She agreed, when her phone rang. “Well, at least the cell towers are on top of buildings.” She answered. “Talk fast!” She listened, and her eyes flicked to Ryder. “Yeah, we’re on our way to the crisis center now for the 1 o’clock update. We’ll get you some good B-Roll of the crowds…” Her eyes flicked to her driver. “Can’t right now. We’re kind of in the middle of something. The water rose faster than we thought.”

The water was up to their seats as Ryder delicately drove his way around debris, heading for the underwater paths that would take them to safety.

“I’ll tell him once we’re clear.” She promised. “For now, I kinda feel like I should be paying attention.”

“What was that about?” Ryder asked as she disconnected.

“And you should definitely be paying attention.” She waved him off. “In case you haven’t noticed, the waters are still rising.”

~~/*\~~

It was slow and careful going, but they eventually drove out of the floodwaters without being washed away. “Here’s hoping nobody was watching that and decided they could do it too.” Ryder sighed in relief as the water drained out past their feet.

“Amen.” Karla agreed. “Pull it over.”

“The van is fine-”

“Get off the road.” She told him firmly. When he did so, she turned to face him. “You gotta go home.”

“I admit being soaked with mud isn't flattering, but you’re the one on camera. Don’t worry, I’ll shoot you from the waist up for the next spot.”

“No, Ryder...” She sighed hard. “I give the world bad news for a living, you’d think it’d be easier.” She muttered under her breath, before she reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “That call from the office? It was for you. You have to go home. Your mom died.”

Ryder was caught off guard. “...what?”

~~/*\~~ Leahe ~~/*\~~

The world can change so fast. Leahe prayed. Father Jehovah, I have been a slave my whole life. Nothing in Egypt changes, ever. Our orders never change. Our work never changes. The way we’re treated, the prayers to numerous false gods. In Egypt, everything is ritualized and traditional to the point of mindlessness. Even the weather is unchanging. And then one day you sent Moses here, and the mighty Nile River turned to Blood for a week.

“Leahe, come and eat before the foremen start calling us out.” Her father called.

But our workload is still doubled, and the Nile means more work still. Leahe prayed quickly. I don’t know exactly what You’re planning to do next, but I know things won’t ever be the same.

~~/*\~~

The Nile had finally run clear that morning, and Egypt was scrambling. During the wet season, there was still no rain, but the Nile flooded its banks, leaving behind a thick layer of fertile topsoil in the delta when the waters withdrew. That topsoil was their cropland for the next season, and a great deal of the water remained in the dams and marshes to irrigate the crop until harvest. Moses had brought a Plague that turned the Nile and those repositories into blood for a full week.

While the Nile had flowed clear at last, the banks were still stained with blood, and the croplands had been wrecked. The water in the marshes was water again, but the delta never flowed like a river, and everything was polluted.

The crops all had to be replanted, and the ruined land dug out. The marshes and reservoirs that would irrigate the new crops had to be refilled with clean water, though the Nile had finished its ‘heavy’ season.

Leahe was more used to hard labor than any of the men cracking a whip over her, but by the end of the first day, she was exhausted. “I’ve been carrying water since I was old enough to walk.” She complained to her father. “Now they expect us to replace the Nile.”

“It’s the King’s countermove.” Tzioni said sagely. “He never countermanded the order to double our workload. If that work should happen to include cleaning up the mess left by the Plague upon the Nile, then maybe that discourages Moses from doing it again.”

“Will he do it again?” Leahe asked, almost hopeful.

“Watercarriers!” A familiar voice called from outside. “All watercarriers, come to the sound of my voice! We have work to do!”

Leahe wanted to scream. “It’s the middle of the night!” She was trying not to cry. “They had us hauling all day!”

The foreman didn’t hear her, but he wasn’t stopping. “All watercarriers, right now! Or the guards will start making examples!”

Leahe groaned and fought her way upright. Outside, the foremen were calling together several of the women by torchlight. “We have an order to haul jars of water for transport. Get moving.”

“We’ve been hauling water all day!” One of the women complained. The lash cracked across her cheek before she had finished speaking. In a long-engrained reaction, all the women ducked, already resigned to it.

As Leahe often did when carrying the load, she used the time of mindless labor to pray, her words to Jehovah in time with her footsteps. Wherever Moses is going to go next, I pray he gets there soon.

~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~

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