The Bound Eye- Part 1

[This piece and all other parts of this story are completely fictional. Any names or other resemblances to real life people or happenings are purely coincidence.]

               Dr. Harold Callerman sat in his darkened office staring at the image which the projector was throwing against the wall. The topographical map was blurry at best, but his trained eye was able to pick out the important parts of it. In the center of the image was a large red dot that radiated outward in gently changing colors; first becoming orange, then yellow, and so on, eventually turning the deep blue of its surroundings. Around this main dot were a host of smaller ones. These dots were green, or at most yellow, and formed a rough oval around the main dot. At the ends of this oval were two parallel, greenish-yellow lines that extended out for roughly ten meters, according to the scale at the bottom of the picture. Like a piercing red eye, the image stared back at Dr. Callerman as he looked over its details.

               Behind him in the office, Dr. Alyssa and Mr. Miguel Romero sat anxiously awaiting his response. They had finished giving their presentation on the image and its meaning about 10 minutes ago. The silence weighed heavily in the room, sitting like a ton of bricks on the chest. Dr. Romero reached over and grabbed her husband’s hand, giving him a slight, nervous smile in the low light of the projector. He returned the smile, but it did nothing for her nerves. She knew this was by far the most money they had asked for from the university. Dr. Callerman had always worked his hardest with the couple, finding every penny he could for them and helping to rearrange their plans when the funds weren’t available. But this request was big. The ship, the submersible, the crew, the equipment; with every new expense they had mentioned she had seen Dr. Callerman’s expression grow more and more grim. After they had proposed the final project budget of $1.4 million he asked to see the topographical map of the site again. There he still sat, some ten minutes later, staring silently at the technicolor picture with an unreadable furrow in his brow.

               After what felt like hours to the couple, Dr. Callerman shifted in his chair and turned back towards them. He cleared his throat and spoke in a soft monotone. “You two are 100% convinced this is not a fluke or odd natural phenomenon?”

               “Yes sir, we are. As we showed before, the overall shape and spacing of the smaller structures is far too regular to have occurred naturally,” Dr. Romero answered. “Even if there were natural magma or other deposition factors present the symmetry of the structures is nearly perfect, something that would not occur on its own.”

               “What about misinterpreted readings? You said that the satellite imaging equipment was new. Could it be giving back erroneous results?”

               “We don’t believe so sir,” she said, desperately trying to keep the nervous quiver out of her voice. “The image you see here is the one we decided was the clearest, but over the last six months of the satellite’s operation we have collected and analyzed over sixty readings that show the same structure in the same location. In conjunction with analysis of previously studied topographical structures these results show beyond a reasonable doubt that the new equipment is reliable.”

               “But you realize that it is impossible for them to have been built during the time period you estimated?”

               This time, it was Mr. Romero who spoke up. “It’s only impossible based on the current understanding of history and anthropology.” At this, Dr. Callerman gave a single sharp exhale as a kind of laugh. “In fact, that very assertion is why we are pushing to fund this expedition. If our hypotheses are correct, then the fossil and historical records as we know them will need to be completely rewritten. This would be the single greatest discovery in archaeology to date!”

               Dr. Callerman let out a few short chuckles from under his white mustache. The sound of laughter, even reserved laughter like this, relieved the tension in the air, and the Romero’s immediately felt more at ease. Dr. Callerman leaned forward in his chair and looked at them both with a smile. “Well, don’t say that to the other backers. Some of them are old farts in those fields and won’t like having their discoveries being attacked like that.” His tone was humorous, and both Dr. and Mr. Romero quickly adopted the smile that had spread across his face.

               “So you believe us then? You’ll help to get us the funding?” Dr. Romero asked eagerly.

               “I’ve believed you this whole presentation Alyssa, but for this much money I won’t be the only one you’ll have to convince. I agree, the evidence here is certainly strong and direct observation of this structure will be the only way to gather any more information about it. But if you need $1.4 million then I need to ask for $1.7 million, and the board of trustees will certainly need some extra convincing for that. The presentation you just gave me was good, but you’ll have to dumb it down a bit for those who aren’t in our field. I assume you’ve submitted the paper for review already?”

               Miguel answered, “Of course. We’ve sent it to the anthropology departments at Harvard, Yale, Columbia, and Pennsylvania, as well as our personal friend Dr. Anita Singh at the Smithsonian.”

               “Good,” Harold said gruffly. “As soon as the reviews come back let me know and I’ll contact the board. Don’t submit it for publication just yet, though. We may be able to use a publication strategically to force the board’s hand. In the meantime, do your homework and try to gather a list of as many of the supplies as you can. Start with chartering a ship, since that’s gonna be the big money drain. If you need any help let me know, I’ll search for any of my contacts who may be able to help.” He got up from his chair, grabbed his cane, and made his way over to the couple. “Congratulations to the both of you on this discovery, but now the real hard work begins. Go home and rest up, we’ve got a long few months ahead of us.”

               The Romero’s shook his hand and quietly left the office. In the parking lot outside the cool November air whistled the approach of an early winter. Bundled in a grey, woolen waist coat and black scarf, Alyssa jumped into her husband’s arms in the street. They kissed passionately as Miguel spun her around in the air. “We did it!” she exclaimed as she put her feet back on solid ground. “Oh my god, we did it! This is amazing!”

               “I can hardly believe it either,” responded Miguel, his wide grin making his dimples deeper than they’d ever appeared before. He still held her close and wrapped his arms, bulging in their olive parka sleeves, tightly around her shoulders. He had always been sensitive to the cold, and despite his large earmuffs and black beanie his nose was still growing red above his smile. “How about we head back where it’s warm and talk more about it there?”
               Alyssa agreed, and they got into her truck to head back home. The whole ride they discussed plans about who to contact next, how the planning would look, and who would be in charge of which tasks. In her chest, Alyssa felt the ton of bricks rise away and become butterflies of elation. When she was told that she would be the team lead for data analysis collected by the new R418 satellite topographical imager (which her colleagues jokingly called the space AIDS) she never would have imagined the discovery she would make. For six months her team analyzed this undersea anomaly that the new equipment was powerful enough to see, despite its four-kilometer depth. The hypothesis that this anomaly had to have been purposefully erected rocked the lab. This segment of sea-floor where it sat had once been above water and connected to Australia, but cataclysmic shifts of the earth had sunk it more than 3 million years ago. To suggest that there existed a species at that time intelligent enough to purposefully place anything, much less build the forty-meter tall structure they had observed, was near heresy to all that was known about the Earth’s history. Yet that was what the evidence pointed to, and, with the help of her team and her husband, Dr. Romero had just received the green light to get a deep-sea expedition under way.

               When they arrived back home, Miguel went to the wine fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne they had been saving. They each had a glass before dinner, a large batch of ratatouille that was still sautéing. As they ate, they began discussing more about the project, but the conversation soon turned to more casual matters, and eventually to more risqué ones. After the meal and another glass of champagne they sat together on the sofa, kissing passionately while the television droned on without and audience. As they began to glide their hands across one another’s bodies, Alyssa stood up with a sly smile and went towards the bedroom, motioning for Miguel to stay where he was.

               In the adjoined master bathroom, Alyssa began to undress. She looked at herself in the mirror and gave a little smile. It may have been the wine talking, but she believed she looked great for a woman of thirty-eight. Her dirty blonde hair was still up in the ponytail she had put on for the presentation and she let it out to hang down around her breasts. She slipped into Miguel’s favorite piece of lingerie; a red negligee that lifted her chest just enough to combat the slight sag of age. The lace hung loosely around her figure and she was vaguely aware of some weight she had gained recently, but to enamored with the moment to care. She finally sprayed on a splash of rose petal perfume and looked herself over one last time. She gave her ass a little smack before heading back out into the living room.

               Miguel was already awaiting her back on the sofa. He had taken off his clothes as well and reclined with just a pillow covering his crotch. Alyssa eyed him over and licked her lips. Despite being two years older Miguel had a baby face that always seemed to look in its twenties. He had kept in good shape, though his love of beer and cheese had taken their toll on his waist line. Others had always complimented him on his clear olive skin, thick eyebrows, and generally young appearance, but Alyssa kept in step by jokingly lording her doctorate over him. But right now, she was deeply grateful for his looks.

               Alyssa sauntered over to the sofa and lied down with her husband. Their lips locked together again, and she playfully bit his lower lip. They wrapped one another in their arms and cuddled close. Miguel shut off the lights and whispered, “We’ve started the best part of our lives.”

               The next four months were the most difficult times they had ever endured together. By the end of November the reviews of the initial paper had come back. Though some were more optimistic than others they all agreed that the findings were odd enough to warrant a physical expedition. The Romeros had found a vessel to charter from the Australian Institute of Marine Sciences and confidently approached the board of trustees meeting. However, the board members were far more skeptical about the work and how the money was to be used. They grilled the couple about accounting for every dollar, questioned about alternative means, and pushed for increasingly restrictive measures. In the end, they agreed to fund an expedition, but only granted $1 million.  Dr. Callerman advised that they publish the paper then and use its notoriety to request grants from private companies or sponsors, but they were all doubtful that the extra $400,000 could be raised, much less any additional money as a safety net.

               With the budget severely reduced new accommodations were made. They called the Institute to find a new vessel that was within their new means. The Institute had another ship, but it was smaller, with less advanced onboard equipment, and it would not be ready to sail until mid-April at the earliest. It still had a submersible capable of reaching the depth of the structure, but it was an older model than the one they had first booked and was currently having its robotic arm repaired. The Romeros debated for a few days whether this would be acceptable, but with grant money slow to come in the expenses decided for them.

               The money problems did not stop with the equipment, however. The smaller ship and limited funds also meant that the size of the research team had to be reduced. Originally, they had planned to have five other members of the research team, but now they could only take three. The couple began to argue over who they would invite to come on the expedition. Alyssa wanted to have her Ph. D. students who had helped to analyze the original pictures make up the team. Miguel, on the other hand, believed it would be better to have team members who already had their doctorates and had some field experience to make the expedition run smoother. They fought several times about the issue, and Alyssa began to suspect that Miguel was trying to exclude other doctoral candidates in order to boost his own dissertation on the findings of the expedition. When she confronted him about this Miguel became enraged.

               “How could you accuse me of that? Of course I’m not boosting my own work. I want this expedition to be successful for everyone involved, but the best way to do that is to have field experience!”

               “So you don’t think my students can handle this?”

               “I’m just saying that work in the lab and work on the ship will be very different. You know that. Familiarity with a field environment is going to be a necessity.”

               “And what about familiarity with the work thus far? My students worked just as hard on that paper as we did; they deserve the right to see that work through.”

               “But they may not be ready for what a month or longer voyage at sea entails. The doctors I’m suggesting are more prepared for that.”

               “And what about you? Not having doctorate-level field experience isn’t going to affect you?” As soon as the words passed her lips Alyssa regretted saying them. She saw the fire in Miguel’s eyes change to a deep pain. His mouth hung slightly open as if he was grasping for a retort, but nothing came out. In silence, he pushed his way past her and out onto the house’s patio. Alyssa tried to call after him, but he was already gone.

               She let an hour go by before going outside to talk with Miguel. She found him leaning over the porch railing taking a long drag from a cigarette. She went and stood next to him, lightly placing her hand on his forearm. They remained silent for a time, looking out at the pink and red evening sky above the neighborhood and listening to the not-so-distant sounds of downtown. Taking a deep breath, Alyssa spoke softly. “I’m sorry about what I said before. I was a little flustered and shouldn’t have taken that out on you. I love you and I know you only want what’s best for the expedition.”

               “Apology accepted. I love you too Alyssa, but sometimes I think this whole thing is a mistake.” She looked over at him with a mix of curiosity and shock. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited about what we’ve done and what further work could mean for us and for the world. But all these plans seemed to be cursed. All the budget issues and this research team issue, it’s all putting so much stress on me, and on us. I want this to be our greatest success, but I’ve had dreams that it may become our greatest failure.”

               With that sentence, Alyssa knew her husband was having serious doubts. Miguel was not a superstitious man, but he was one of strong faith, and he believed that dreams were a way that God spoke to man. She herself was never one for religion, but if he said his dreams were worrisome then she accepted that he was truly doubtful. She laid her head on his shoulder and stood in silence for another moment. “Baby, I know you’re scared about this, but that it also means so very much to you. Maybe these dreams are God’s way of telling you that we just need to be careful about this project. This isn’t going to be easy, either in planning or in execution. And maybe the best way to avoid any unnecessary risks is to have a research team with some field experience.”

               Miguel looked at her with a tired but satisfied expression. “Thank you for agreeing to that. But you’re also right; some of your students do deserve to see this project done as well. How about we have two of field experienced members and one of the students comprise the team?”

               “That sounds wonderful darling. Let’s go back inside and I’ll make us some empanadas.”

               “You go on ahead,” Miguel said. “I think I’m going to stay out here a little while longer and have another cigarette.”

               The small smile left Alyssa’s face, but she respected his need for space. “Alright, they’ll be ready when you come back inside.” They kissed gently, and she went back into the house.

               As the planning of the trip continued more small issues arose, but many were quickly fixed. Alyssa’s anticipation grew as every day brought them closer to the expedition departure, scheduled for April 23^rd. However, she noticed that Miguel matched her excitement with his own feelings of anxiousness. He said his dreams were becoming more frequent, and so he sought spiritual guidance from their local church. He began going to the mass every Sunday evening, leaving Alyssa to work on the plans alone for those couple of hours. He would often stay after the service as well to have private discussions with Father Kingsley, the local priest who had helped Miguel adjust when they first moved here. The priest, in conjunction with a cigarette, helped to calm his nerves and encouraged cooperative planning and preparation with his wife. But then, one night, Miguel came home with a very different message from Father Kingsley.

               It was a cold evening at the end of March and a light rain had started to fall. Alyssa sat in the living room detailing how the research team would systematically investigate the structure with the submersible. The evening news hummed along in the background, talking about the storm what was coming that night, but she was not really paying much attention. A splash of light arched slowly across the wall and she looked up to see Miguel’s car pulling in to the driveway. Alyssa got up, stretched her back, and went to greet her husband.

               Miguel came in a little damp from the rain with a very queer expression. His pallor and drooping cheeks made it look as if he were nauseous, but his dark eyes showed an expression more of fear. Alyssa went up to him and asked what the matter was. He looked at her with the most solemn expression she had ever seen him make. She felt her own stomach drop as he started to speak. “Father Kingsley pulled me aside after the service today and talked to me about something. He said he had a vision last night. It was an angel he said, and it came to him and said, ‘A journey made to open eyes can only be left with them further shut; faith alone brings sight.’ He said that when he woke up, he immediately thought of our expedition. He said that this and my dreams may be a sign. Honey, I just don’t know abo- “

               “Don’t you say it! Don’t you dare say that!” Tears had begun to well up in Alyssa’s eyes. Tears of anger, tears of frustration, tears of sadness; she had no idea which they were. “We have put almost a year of our lives into this. We are so close to changing the world. How can you say you think we should stop now?”

               “I don’t know what I’m saying right now!” Miguel looked tired and his eyes too appeared to have the soft shimmer of gathering tears. “My mind and wife say one thing and my faith says another. But with the Father’s vision how can I believe this is a good idea? Perhaps we need to take some more time and consider other possibilities.”

               “There is no more time and there are no other possibilities! We have worked too hard on this! I have worked too hard on this and I’m not going to stop now. I’m sorry, but this is too important to me!” With that, Alyssa stomped off into the closet and grabbed out her rain coat. Walking and spending some time away from Miguel always helped her to calm down. Miguel protested a bit, saying something about how concerning this should be for her, but she wasn’t paying any attention. She marched out into the rain and walked down towards the city. She knew Miguel wouldn’t follow her; he knew these walks were the only thing that would get her to talk to him again.

               Along the city sidewalk Alyssa strut, feeling a turbulent mix of anger, guilt, disgust, and depression. How could he even suggest they throw all this work away, even if it was for some religious vision? Was he really that superstitious? Had she been too harsh not to hear him out? What kind of husband doesn’t support his wife’s work, or his own work for that matter? All of these thoughts raced around inside her head like the busy street next to her. And, as if to match her tumultuous mindset, the rain became heavier and stronger with each passing minute. Soon, Alyssa was bracing her jacket collar against the wind and rain.

               Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something moving towards her from an alley. She turned herself towards the opening just as a ragged vagabond grabbed her by the shoulders. She screamed, but even she had a hard time hearing herself over the rain and cars, and there was no one else on the streets in a storm like this. The man who held her had a matted and disgusting salt-and-pepper beard beneath a well-worn grey skullcap. He wore torn denim jeans and a faded jacket that was soaked from the rain. One of his eyes was lame and stared off to Alyssa’s left, while the other fixed squarely on her face and seemed to be severely dilated. Alyssa tried to wriggle free, but even with his emaciated frame the man’s grip still held like a vice.

               When he began to speak his words poured out like a stream. His breath reeked of booze and fish and it took all of Alyssa’s strength not to gag. “The sleeper in the depth must remain, the eye is sealed, but still the seeker seeks, in places not meant to be, the ages left abandoned, do not let the bound awake, keep it locked, keep it away. End the search!” With this bout of madness, the rouge switched his hold on Alyssa into a full out bear hug. She screamed again, praying for anyone to hear. The man’s grasp was far too tight, and he lifted her feet off of the ground with a deranged strength someone as thin as him should not have had. Then, with Alyssa still in his arms, he leaned over and fell directly into the path of the oncoming cars.

***

               The funeral was held in the first week of April. The sun shone brightly over the mourners as the casket was lowered into the earth. Father Kingsley read a beautiful eulogy and asked if anyone had anything more to say. Miguel stood and tried to give the speech he had prepared, but only made it halfway through before breaking down into a storm of tears and sobs. He came down from the podium and stood off to the side of the group, Alyssa’s sister Mary gently patting his back and consoling him. How could he go on like this, he thought, tired from the vigil last night and the long day. Eventually, the tears began to stop, and he pulled out and lit a cigarette.

               By the end of the service half of the pack was gone and it felt like his eyes would be too dry and raw to ever cry again. Everyone had given their condolences, which he accepted with a kind “Thank you.” Inside, though, he knew that was all meaningless. Condolences wouldn’t bring Alyssa back. He puffed on his cigarette and stood leaning against an oak tree in the cemetery. Dr. Callerman came shuffling over to him with his cane and stood under the shade of the tree. His expression was grim but understanding, and for the first time that whole day Miguel felt like he was truly with a friend.

               “You’re right to be sad. There’s no shame in what’s going on inside you and if you need to let it out then just let it out. You’re a strong man, and these things don’t make you any weaker. I’m always here for you when you need help.”

               “Thanks Harold. I admit it’s not going to be easy, and I will definitely be calling on you when I get back.”

               Dr. Callerman raised one eyebrow from behind his glasses. “When you get back from where?”

               “When I come back from this expedition,” Miguel replied. “Alyssa put the last or her days and her heart into this trip. It would dishonor her memory for me not to see it through. We were partners in life, and there is nothing more God can take from me to make this journey any worse.”

Click here for Part 2