Black wind

per city would wreak deadly havoc, if that’s in fact what they were. Hiram, you said the ordnance was referred to as Maka^e. St. Julien Perlmutter found mention of the same term. Any information on what they were?”
    “I was curious about that myself,” Yaeger replied. “I found that the ‘iferal translation was ‘evil wind’ or ‘black wind.” But there was no additional information in the official naval records.”
    Yaeger paused and sat back in his chair with a knowing, look.
    “Well, did you find anything else?” Gunn finally goaded.
    “It was Max, actually,” Yaeger replied proudly. “After exhausting the National Archives data, I had her search the public databases in the U.S. and Japan. In a Japanese genealogy database, she hit pay dirt, locating an obscure diary from a sailor who served aboard the I-403 during the war.” Holding a printout up to his face, he continued. “Mechanic First Class Hiroshi Sakora, Imperial Navy Air Corps, was a lucky devil. He came down with appendicitis while the sub was crossing the Pacific on its fateful voyage in December of 1944 and was transferred off the boat and onto the refueling ship in the Aleutian Islands. All his shipmates, of course, went on to perish when the sub was sunk off Washington State.”
    “And he made mention of the I-403’s mission?” Dirk asked.
    “In vivid detail. It turns out that the young Mr. Sakora, in addition to his aircraft mechanic duties, was also in charge of aerial ordnance
    for the submarine’s airplanes. He wrote that before they left port on their final voyage, an Army officer named Tanaka brought aboard an unusual type of aerial bomb that was to be used on the mission. The shipboard morale became very high, he added, when the crew learned they were to make an attack on the United States. But there was much mystery and speculation about the unknown weapon.”
    “Did he identify what it was?” Gunn pressed.
    “He tried to, but working with the fellow Tanaka was difficult. “A
    gloomy, overbearing, obstinate taskmaster,” he wrote about the officer.

Typical Army-Navy rivalry, I suppose, plus the submariners didn’t like his being a last-minute addition to the sailing crew. At any rate, he pressed Tanaka for information, but to no avail. Finally, just before he fell ill and was transferred off the sub in the Aleutians, he wriggled the information out of one of the pilots. The pilot, so the story goes,
    shared some sake with Tanaka and was able to pry the secret payload out of him. It was smallpox.”
    “Good God, so it’s true!” Gunn exclaimed.
    “Apparently so. He wrote that the payload was a freeze-dried virus, which was to be detonated and dispersed at altitude above the most concentrated population points of each city. Within two weeks, an outbreak of smallpox was expected all along the West Coast. With a thirty percent mortality rate, the deaths would have been staggering. The Japanese figured the resulting panic would allow them to negotiate a peace settlement on their terms.”
    “The threat of more smallpox bombs on our home soil might very well have changed the resolve of many people to finish the war, Gunn speculated.
    An uneasiness crept over the room as the three considered how history may have played out differently had the I-403 successfully completed its mission. Their thoughts then turned to the possibility of a more current threat.
    “You mentioned that the virus was freeze-dried. So they must have had the ability to store the virus for long periods and then rejuvenate it,” Dirk commented.
    “Necessary for a long sea voyage,” Yaeger added. “According to Max the Japanese had difficulty in keeping the viruses alive in their munitions for any length of time. They ultimately perfected a way of freeze-drying the virus, for easier handling and longer storage, until the need for activation when deployed. Insert a little H2O and you’re in business.”
    “So the virus could still be a viable danger, even after sixty years at the bottom of the sea,” Gunn remarked. “I guess that answers Jost’s question.”
    “There’s no reason the smallpox wouldn’t survive in freeze-dried form if the canisters hadn’t cracked during sinking. Since they’re made of porcelain, the canisters could survive intact for centuries underwater,” Dirk said. “Might also explain the various interior segments to the bomb. A compartment with water was needed to rejuvenate the virus.”
    “Perhaps it was