by Razi Imam
His legs and feet reacted by going numb in the freezing cold water. He focused on the far wall, but didn’t see anything. Before he knew it, a wave lifted him off his feet and slammed him into the cavern wall, submerging him.
Underwater, the force of the current tossed him about. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of that strange light again, but he still wasn’t sure what he was seeing. The water spun him around and dragged him near the opening. He managed to cling to a wall, hanging on for dear life as the water rushed out. Able to breathe again, cold, his body in state of shock, he searched for the glimmering light. Like clockwork, the freezing water rushed in again. This time, Sebastian was ready. He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the wall. Submerged, he saw them—small, luminescent snails, stuck against the far wall.
The raging water rushed out again and as before, the luminescence was gone. He stood there in the dark, chilled to the bone, his muscles tense. He waited for the turbulent water to return. Taking a deep breath, he used the force of the current to maneuver in front of the snails and peeled them off the wall. He was able to secure five snails and put them in a specimen bottle before the receding water spun him around and pulled him away. He scrambled and grabbed another wall and waited out the water. Once clear, he ran to the wall, where Maria had lowered another rope attached to a pulley she had set up. Sebastian grabbed the rope and wrapped it around his pulley, creating a loop.
He began hoisting himself up, climbing as fast as his exhausted body would allow, the cavern once again erupted with violence and the water missed him by inches. He turned back to glance again at the luminescent wall when something else in the water caught his eye. A beautiful light, something moving in the water, swimming free. Squinting, he tried to focus, but as soon as he saw it, it disappeared into the vortex rushing out.
“C’mon!” Maria shouted. “We’re getting a flashflood in the crevice now!”
Sebastian pulled himself the last few yards to Maria, and they both crawled back to the outcropping.
“Whoa!” Sebastian exclaimed, looking up. The crevice had become a natural waterfall—rainwater cascaded down, making it almost impossible for them to climb out.
The noise of the waterfall was deafening. “We’re going to have to improvise,” Maria yelled. “It’s going to take everything we’ve got to place new hooks as we climb out.” Sebastian nodded.
Maria secured her first hook and ascended. While holding herself steady, she placed a second hook. They inched themselves up through the falling water.
After almost two hours, they pulled themselves out of the crevice and back onto the granite table. Drenched, and exhausted, they took a minute to rest as the rain continued to fall. They had the snails, but now it was a race against time to get back to the boat before it left without them.
During their rapid decent down the mountain, Sebastian kept feeling the flask in his backpack, making sure it was still there. Once at the base, Maria reset her stopwatch. Attaching new hooks had added an hour to their adventure. “Ready?” she asked, somehow smiling, “We have two hours to get out of the jungle, instead of three.”
Hands on his knees, Sebastian took a deep breath. He rose upright with a grin, and nodded. “Let’s do this!”
They moved through the thickets in a jungle jog—a combination of jumps and short bursts of speed—balancing on fallen trees and ducking stray branches, all with as much energy as they could muster.
BACK ON THE boat, the captain realized it was forty minutes past the twelve hours he’d allotted them. What’s more, the weather had taken a nasty turn—he’d been keeping a close eye on the steady rising waterline. Any longer and he risked drifting deeper into the jungle, only for the water to recede after the storm and leave him stranded. He fired up the engine and started to hoist the anchor, inching away from the bank.
SEBASTIAN AND MARIA broke out of the jungle, sprinting toward the boat as it pulled away. Maria reached it first with a hop, leap, and jump, followed close by Sebastian. They collapsed under the covered awning of the deck, exhausted, ignoring the captain’s grunt on their return.
Breathing heavily, Sebastian removed his backpack and took out the flask. He peered into it and his snails were doing fine. Closing the flask his childhood neural condition flared up and rapid images started flashing in his mind. He started seeing pictures of glittering sand, ethereal humanoids wearing cloaks, and something that looked like a huge sparkling Russian Faberge egg.
CHAPTER FIVE
Defining Moment
“Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes around in another form.”
~Rumi
SEBASTIAN AND MARIA were back outside the Ultimo Rufugio the next day. Sipping their beers, eyes on the ocean, they played out the adventure of the past twenty-four hours. Small bandages on Sebastian’s fingers made souvenirs of the day. Maria, on the other hand, wearing a yellow sundress and her hair falling across her bare shoulders, appeared to be unscathed.
She broke the silence. “Sebastian, when you were pulling yourself up from the cavern, you stopped, as if you saw something.”
Sebastian was surprised Maria had caught his momentary pause in the cavern.
“I think I saw a fish—the water was rough and it was hard to see. I may have been imagining things.” He paused, debating if he should share the next bit of information. “I suffer from a condition called Pareidolia. In moments of severe physical or mental intensity, I get flashes of images that most often don’t mean anything.” His voice trailed off, unsure if he should continue.
Maria nodded. “Well, whatever the case, I hope your snails are the missing evolutionary link. How hard will it be for you to find that out?”
“The work isn’t technically difficult, it’s just time consuming and tedious,” Sebastian replied. “It could take over three hundred attempts to isolate the DNA and confirm my findings.”
The conversation drifted. Maria was going on an extended expedition that would take her all over the world—this was perhaps the last time Sebastian would see her in Panama. He wasn’t sure why he felt sad that she was leaving. He lifted his beer.
“Well, here’s to climbing mountains, crossing jungles, and finding new adventures. May our paths cross again.”
Maria leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodbye,” she said with a smile.
Sebastian watched her head out of the restaurant through one of the open walls and down the path, toward a jet ski tied to the restaurant’s pier. She stopped, placed her backpack on a nearby table, tucked her thumb underneath her spaghetti strap and removed her sundress, revealing a bronze bikini underneath. She tucked her dress into her bag and swung it onto her shoulders. Without glancing back, she shouted, “Sebastian, stop looking at me!” She hopped on the jet ski and took off. Sebastian smiled—he had indeed been staring.
He got up and paid the bartender for their lunch. A man with a paintbrush worked on the same large mural Sebastian had admired earlier. He had an assistant, a girl wearing a white painter’s dungaree. She had paint on her clothes, her hands, and the side of her face. The painter stopped, picked up a rag and wiped the paint from her cheek. The girl turned around, as if she knew someone was staring. Catching Sebastian’s eye, she smiled at him. He smiled back, making his way out of the restaurant.
As he was leaving, the two restaurant owners approached the painter about his mural. “Charles, this is incredible,” one of them said. “You wouldn’t believe how many customers have commented on your masterpiece. We wish you’d stay and paint one for our home, too. Please, please.”
“You know I would love to,” the painter responded. “But we’re headed to New Zealand, where I’ve accepted a new commission.” Resigned, the owners shook hands and went back to doting over their guests.
***
AT THE BOCAS del Toro Marine Research Center, Sebastian sat in front of his boss, Director Keira Morales. The conversation wasn’t going well. Sebastian paused for the third time since their m
eeting started to let her finish texting. Dr. Morales was a thin, almost gaunt woman with dark, frizzy hair and piercing eyes that never sat still.
She listened to all the details of his adventure with seeming great difficulty, then pointed out that he might have found the well-known species Hinea brasiliana, which had already been studied by several institutions. In between texting and glancing at her computer screen, she went on to explain that Bocas del Toro didn’t have the funding to research this any further.
“Hand these snails over to Doctor Cebrián Alveraz’s group,” she said without meeting his eyes. “They’re already doing some research with luminescent marine life. I need you to support the group that’s trying to figure out why Lake Erie has repeated occurrence of a foul-smelling algae bloom every summer.”
Sebastian couldn’t believe it. “Keira, are you kidding me? You want me to work on an algae bloom? Why did you even fund my expedition if you weren’t going to give me the opportunity to prove my hypothesis?”
“I was sure you’d fail,” she said. “I thought you’d come back empty-handed, which would have shut this whole affair down once and for all. We had already booked Maria for another expedition, and it was cancelled. And since we’d already spent the money…”
Her response was as frustrating as her personality. But Sebastian wasn’t ready to give in.
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll meet with Doctor Alveraz and see where that conversation takes us. But how about this—what if I work nights on my project while doing the center’s main research during the day?”
For the first time, Keira stopped shifting her eyes. They dropped to her table as she sighed. “Okay, fine,” she conceded. “Whatever. Work on your pet project in the evenings only. No compromise on that.” She turned back to her phone with deep interest. He had been dismissed.
***
SEBASTIAN MET DR. Cebrián Alveraz at his office the next day, and he found the doctor to be quite friendly. Cebrián was the senior scientist at the institute, and his lab boasted the institute’s biggest research budget, with over twenty scientists on his team. He was credited with over a dozen major discoveries in marine biology, ecology, and oceanography. This also made Cebrián the center’s main source of revenue.
Alveraz was fit and in his mid-fifties. He wore a trim goatee that accentuated his dark, golden-brown complexion and matched his light gray, wavy hair. He was authoritative, yet personable and wore a diver’s watch on his right wrist and a blue activity tracker on his left. He had a charm about him that put Sebastian at ease.
He told Cebrián about his passion for discovering new species that would validate Step Evolution, and a quick summary of the adventure to acquire the snails.
“Sebastian,” Cebrián said in sincere tone, “I love your story and want to help. Instead of giving my team the snails, use my lab in the evenings and find out if they are indeed the missing link,” he said, to Sebastian’s delight.
***
THE NEXT DAY, after working his full eight hours on the Lake Erie project, Sebastian grabbed the aquarium with his snails and headed to Cebrián’s wing. As he got closer, the quality of furniture improved—even the paint on the walls was nicer.
Upon entering the main lab, he stopped in surprise. It was better equipped than any of the labs at Scripps. Each station had its own gear—everything from test tubes and beakers to microscopes and centrifuges. These were just the stations—on the other side of the lab there were incubators, aquariums, a NanoDrop 2000 spectrophotometer for measuring DNA concentration, and even a DNA sequencer. If his specimens were the big breakthrough he thought they were, this lab for sure had the equipment to confirm it.
Sebastian chose the workstation closest to the wall with all the major equipment, and placed the aquarium on the table next to it. He pulled his laptop out of his backpack and connected it. The network asked him to set up a new password. He thought for a second, then with a smile typed #LaraCroft.
He spent the next five hours developing the broad strokes of his research protocol, from identifying physical features to DNA sampling. His experiments were going to require long nights in the lab—he’d have to bring his sleeping bag from home.
At one in the morning, he shouldered his bag and left. On his way out, he noted that Cebrián’s office light was on. He paused to peek in and saw Cebrián in his office, working.
Cebrián sensing a presence lifted his head. “Are you all settled in?” he asked. “Do you like the lab?” Sebastian gave him a thumbs-up. Alveraz paused, his expression turning thoughtful. “Sebastian, did you like your time at Scripps?”
Sebastian hesitated, surprised by the question. “It’s a great place for marine research. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious,” Cebrián replied, going back to the papers sprawled across his desk.
Sebastian stepped out of the research center into the warm night and crossed the parking lot toward his sole indulgence, a red Multistrada 1200S Ducati. He pushed down the black button to activate the dash and then pressed the red button all the way to start the bike. The roar of the engine was magnificent. As he made his way out of the center, he nudged the accelerator and felt the bike leap forward, the front wheel lifting off the ground.
While riding home, several thoughts drifted through his mind—Maria, the snails, Cebrián’s lab—but one thought took control for the rest of his ride: What was it he had seen in the water, just as he escaped the cavern?
***
THE NEXT MORNING, Sebastian was back at the center at eight o’clock sharp. People rushed down the corridors, and a few groups in the main hall stood whispering.
He stopped to get coffee and found one of the scientists struggling with the coffee machine. “What’s all the commotion about?” Sebastian asked, offering to help with the coffee machine.
“You haven’t heard?” replied the bewildered scientist, stepping aside.
“Heard what?” Sebastian said.
“Doctor Cebrián Alveraz has accepted the position of director at the Scripps Oceanography Institute. He’s leaving us.”
So Cebrián’s question from the night before wasn’t so innocuous! Sebastian thought. The scientist grabbed the half-filled, steaming coffee cup, not waiting for the pour to complete, and scurried away.
At around five o’clock, Sebastian picked up his backpack and was making his way to Cebrián’s lab when he heard someone calling his name. He turned to find Cebrián, Keira, and a man wearing a bright, light-blue suit with large vertical stripes standing next to them. The man wouldn’t have looked out of place in a mariachi band. He had a full mustache and wavy hair with lots of hair cream. Cebrián motioned for Sebastian to join them.
“I heard the good news,” Sebastian said as he approached them. “I’m sure it’s a wonderful opportunity for you.”
Before Cebrián could say anything, Keira rolled her eyes, chiming in. “Wonderful news for Scripps, not for us. Anyway, I’m happy for you, Cebrián.”
The doctor nodded, “Thank you Sebastian, yes. It is something I have been wanting to do for a long time.”
“Hi, I’m Doctor Martinez Espino.” The man with the mustache grinned. “I understand you’re the scientist who went into the jungle to retrieve some snails. I hope they turn out to be valuable research. We have to be careful that we don’t utilize our major resources on hunches.”
“Hunches make us scientists,” Cebrián countered with a straight face. “When we lose our sense of adventure and curiosity, we cease to be scientists.”
Sebastian smiled. He was starting to like Cebrián. It was a shame he was leaving.
Keira explained to Martinez that she had given Sebastian permission to work on his quest in the evenings, as long as it didn’t interfere with his day job. “Who knows,” she said, shrugging her shoulder, “Sebastian’s discovery may be the big break we need.”
Eager to return to his research, Sebastian thanked them and made his way to Cebrián’s lab, where he began the long process of cla
ssifying his snails.
Sebastian’s routine consisted of a full day’s work on the Erie grant, followed by work on his snails starting at five o’clock, often until three a.m. There were times when he would sleep under the table for a few hours, head home to shower, then come back and start his day all over again.
This routine went on for several weeks, until one morning when a fellow scientist arrived earlier than usual. The lab was dark, except for a blinking computer screen, and switched on the lights. Sebastian, awakened by the light, glanced across at the blinking computer screen. The results of the last DNA sequence testing were in.
Groggy and stiff, Sebastian plopped down onto the workstation chair and tapped at the keyboard. The blinking stopped and an AGCT DNA model appeared on the screen. He stared at the model—this time something was different. He opened old pictures of DNA sequences of Cerithideopsis Californica and Cerithideopsis Pliculosa on a second monitor.
As he compared the models, he stood up, bringing his palms to his temples. He stood there staring at the monitors. He sat back down again, his sleepiness gone. Goosebumps prickled his arms. He called the other scientist over to see if he was correct in reading his results.
The scientist leaned closer to the monitor. “Is this the DNA sequence of your snails?” he asked, surprise in his voice. Sebastian nodded. “It appears that they’re a genetic link to Californica and Pliculosa,” he said carefully, after a few moments of comparison.
Everything that followed felt like slow motion for Sebastian. As word spread, scientists rushed in and out of the lab, congratulating Sebastian with vigorous handshakes, pats on the back, and typical South American-style full-body hugs.
