Masters of the Broken Watches

by Razi Imam

  ***

  KEIRA ROUNDED THE corner and saw Sebastian standing at the door of her office. “Yes, how can I help you?” She asked. “I have to get to a meeting in five minutes.”

  Sebastian said nothing, as he placed the printed results of his analysis on her desk. She scanned the printout with little interest. “What’s this?” She jolted upright, gripping the report. “Does this mean what I think it does?” Sebastian smiled and nodded. “Oh, my God, this is huge!” she shrieked. Eyes wide, she picked up her phone and called Martinez, following with a flurry of texts to the center’s Board members.

  A short time later, Martinez was in the office too, waving the results in excitement. “Extraordinary!” he exclaimed. “We must celebrate. Keira, where are you hiding your good tequila?”

  “Bottom shelf of the credenza,” Keira replied, continuing to text.

  Martinez poured three shot glasses and passed them around, shouting, “Cheers! Here’s to solving the biggest mystery of evolution!”

  ***

  THE NEXT TWO months passed in a whirlwind of writing, rewriting, and validating experiments. It didn’t take Keira and Martinez long to approve and submit the paper detailing Sebastian’s findings to the Journal of Marine Biology and Oceanography, and now all he had to do was wait. He took this time to recharge, riding his bike across the Panamanian countryside, climbing mountains, and staying with the locals in unknown villages. He heard their stories, and experienced their rituals and customs. All the while, he pondered what his next research topic would be.

  Soon after he had returned home from his vacation, Sebastian received a cryptic email from the editor of the Journal of Marine Biology and Oceanography. He responded by setting up a time to call the editor.

  “Hello, Doctor Miles,” the editor said, sounding a bit pensive. “Thank you for speaking with me. I have here…impressive submission from Bocas del Toro.” He paused.

  “Yes, I know, I made the submission. And please, call me Sebastian.”

  “Yes, yes, I spoke to Doctor Cebrián Alveraz at Scripps,” the editor continued, distracted. “He too confirmed that you were the lead scientist on this incredible discovery.” The editor went quiet, and after a few seconds, said, “Sebastian, that isn’t what I have here in the official submission.”

  What the editor said next took the wind out of Sebastian. There were two names associated with the paper—Dr. Keira Morales and Dr. Martinez Espino. Sebastian wasn’t mentioned in the submission anywhere. “I felt I should inform you, in case we need to make any corrections,” the editor concluded.

  “It must have been an oversight,” Sebastian said, his mind racing. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I understand,” the editor replied. “I’m prepared to hold off for twenty-four hours before the article goes to print. Since this is such a major discovery, it will be featured prominently on the front cover of the journal.”

  Bewildered, Sebastian hung up the phone. He headed for the research center, not caring where he parked his bike before heading straight to Keira’s office. He found her at her desk, having a quiet conversation with Martinez.

  “Keira,” Sebastian said, stepping into the room without even a glance at Martinez.

  “Hi, Sebastian,” she said, more pleasant than usual. “How can I help you?”

  Sebastian tried hard to keep a calm face. ”There has been a misunderstanding,” he said. “I just got off the phone with the editor of Marine Biology and Oceanography. He said he’s going to publish my paper—however, my name isn’t on it. Not even as a reference.”

  “Sebastian, there is no misunderstanding,” Keira assured him. “Please sit down and let me explain.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Let me explain,” Keira repeated, taking a sip of water. “Since Doctor Alveraz has left, we’re under huge threat of losing the majority of the funding he was able to secure for his projects. Martinez is working with his donors, but they haven’t confirmed one way or the other if they’ll continue to fund them without Cebrián leading the research.”

  “So, what does that have to do with my paper?” Sebastian interjected.

  For once, Keira wasn’t texting—she was looking at him and not blinking. “We can’t afford to lose that funding,” she explained. “You’re just a researcher. You don’t have a brand. Martinez and I are senior scientists. We’re known figures in the research world. That’s why this discovery must be announced under our names—so donors notice us and what this center can do.”

  Sebastian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you serious? This has been my goal for over five years, and now you want to take ownership of my discovery? You know what you’re doing is wrong, and unethical, on so many levels, right?”

  Keira’s eyes grew large and piercing. “Sebastian, I didn’t get here by playing nice. I do what I have to do to grow and maintain this research center. Martinez and I must own the credit for this discovery if we’re going to fund our programs. Besides, when you accepted the commission, our contract stated that if we wish, we could assign credit of any and all discoveries to any of our senior scientists. As a visiting researcher, you knew that.”

  Sebastian glared at her. “Keira, this is no ordinary find of a new species, this is the species that proves Step Evolution. The fact that you guys aren’t even mentioning me is pure theft. If this research was conducted under a senior scientist, I could maybe understand. But this was all my independent work, on my own time, against your judgment and support. You’re hijacking my research.”

  “That is the whole point,” Keira responded. “Sebastian. The fact no senior scientist even played a role indicates we all are sleeping at our jobs. It portrays a negative impression of the senior staff to the Board. And we can not have that.”

  “And listen,” Martinez chimed in. “After all, it was in my lab that you worked to find this breakthrough. Cebrián had different rules when running his lab. This is now my lab, and whatever is discovered in my lab belongs to Keira and me.”

  “This is treachery and you know it.” Sebastian snapped.

  “We study evolution here,” Martinez replied. “It’s survival of the fittest.”

  Sebastian realized he was arguing with two people who had lost their moral compass. “I am going to put an end to your plan. I will contact the editor, submit the evidence, and shut your plan down. As he started to walk out, Martinez got up and put his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Sebastian, wait. Let’s talk about this.”

  “Remove your hand,” Sebastian growled, “or get ready to wear a cast.” Martinez eyes grew large, and he recoiled.

  Sebastian marched out, heading straight for Cebrián’s lab to archive his electronic research materials and the results of his experiments. He emailed the .zip file to the editor and called him to explain what had happened.

  “Sebastian, I’ve seen this more times than I’d like to count. It’s a common occurrence in academia for senior researchers to take credit for work done by their junior teams. Even though there’s clear evidence that you yourself made this breakthrough, the center does have the right to claim it as their discovery. I’m sorry, but you won’t get credit for your research.” His voice was heavy with sadness.

  Sebastian sat at his workstation, numb. His snails glowed in the aquarium. A thought flashed through his mind to take them and release them into the wild, but he quashed it. Introducing them to a new habitat could play havoc with the ecosystem. After a few minutes, he picked up his things and rode out of the Bocas del Toro Marine Research Center for the last time.

  ***

  SEBASTIAN’S ROUTINE FOR the next few weeks included long, seven-to-ten-mile runs in an effort to clear his mind. He also spent hours playing full-contact street soccer with the locals, each match, leaving him exhausted as he limped his way back to his apartment. Neither activity seemed to help him find the closure he was looking for.

  One late afternoon, he was at home nursing a scotch and watching a documentary abou
t pufferfish. The host, in his proper British accent, was whispering the narration, as if swimming among the creatures he didn’t want to spook. “This pufferfish is able to construct sand formations that look like underwater crop circles,” the host said.

  He heard the creak of the mail slot’s metal flap on his front door as the courier delivered the day’s mail. Sebastian jumped off the couch to pick it up. Every day since the incident at the lab, he had been awaiting and dreading the arrival of the Journal of Marine Biology and Oceanography. He had hoped the editor made an exception and gave him some credit. He saw the magazine nestled amongst the junk mail wrapped in a clear plastic bag. A picture of his snail was on the cover, accompanied by the headline MYSTERY OF EVOLUTION SOLVED. Underneath the headline, in bold black letters: BY DR. KEIRA MORALES AND DR. MARTINEZ ESPINO.

  Sitting back down, he removed the magazine from the plastic and leafed through the article. As he had feared, there was no mention of Dr. Sebastian Miles.

  As if on cue, his cell phone rang with a number he didn’t recognize. Sebastian considered ignoring it, but it had a familiar area code—San Diego. After a few rings he picked up. “Hello?”

  “Sebastian.” It was a man’s voice, deep and friendly. “This is Cebrián Alveraz.”

  It took Sebastian a moment to realize who it was. Why is Cebrián calling me? he wondered. And how did he get my number? “Hello, Doctor Alveraz. How can I help you?”

  “I heard what happened at Bocas del Toro,” Cebrián informed him. “I’m looking at the recent copy of the journal. Not a good situation.” He paused. “But I haven’t called you to discuss that. I have a proposition. Would you like to meet me at Scripps? I have a position that requires a daring researcher such as yourself.”

  Sebastian placed his drink on the side table and sat up. “Uh, thank you! Can you tell me what you’re researching?”

  “Let’s just say it’s a new evolutionary science I’m investigating,” Cebrián said.

  Sebastian waited to hear more. After an awkward silence, he realized Cebrián wasn’t going to share anything further over the phone. At the same time, the doctor’s offer helped him accept something he’d been struggling with for weeks—there was nothing more for him in Bocas del Toro.

  “Okay, Doctor Alveraz, I’ll meet you at Scripps,” Sebastian said. With that, he signed up for an adventure that would shake the very foundation of what he believed to be true—and real.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Blue Light

  “Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure.”

  ~Rumi

  IT TOOK PHAM Kai all of his strength to get up and inspect the cabin—there was a big hole in the starboard wall, they had smashed his speedometer, and the housing of his compass was bent. He wasn’t sure how they had missed the compass itself, because there was destruction everywhere. He started his motor, pulled the anchor up using his left hand, and made his way out of the reef.

  His arms, shoulders, and legs ached. He had cuts and bruises over his entire body from the sharp edges of the reef, and most of all, his neck throbbed with pain. He moved his fingers over the holes left by the electric rod. They were the same marks he had seen on other fishermen in the village. He, too, was now branded. Using his left hand to steer the boat, he kept heading toward Vietnamese waters.

  It was still pre-dawn when a soft blue light underneath his basket boat caught his eye. At first he thought the lantern was still on. Then he realized the brightness was different, almost luminescent, like a healing glow.

  He stopped the engine and walked toward the round boat. As he got closer, he felt an odd feeling. A feeling that he was about to experience something powerful.

  He lifted the bamboo boat and it wasn’t a su vang fish—it was something else.

  He had seen a glimpse of it in the water just before getting caught in the whirlpool. A spectacular specimen, unlike anything he had ever seen in all his years of fishing. A fish with a bluish-green, glowing nodule on top of its head that pulsed down to its dorsal fin. The fish was dead, but the nodule was still moving, as if it had a life of its own. He lifted the creature and took note of its eyes, gills, mouth and lateral fins. It was about a foot long, translucent and beautiful, a combination of yellow and pink. The nodule traveled in a unique, hypnotic pattern, a smooth, serene movement that was very addictive to watch. After staring at it for quite a while, he placed the fish in the cooler and filled it with seawater. He then placed all the remaining fish into the tin bucket and made his way home.

  He dragged the basket boat onto the beach and stumbled into the house with the cooler and the tin bucket. Minh rushed to him, as she realized something horrible had happened—his shirt was gone, showing his bruised and battered body. He grimaced in pain, his entire body trembling.

  Realizing that he was in no condition to talk, Minh prepared a poultice of powdered turmeric, salt, and ghee, cooking it on low heat over her small kerosene stove. She applied the warm yellow paste to Pham Kai’s bruises with her fingers. He winced, yet soon found it soothing. After covering his bruises, she pulled a whitish piece of smooth crystal—phitkari, also known as potassium alum—from a rusty White Swan coffee tin. She submerged it in water and rubbed it over his cuts, focusing on the holes on his neck and right shoulder.

  Between long pauses, Pham Kai narrated the entire ordeal to Minh. Her eyes widened with astonishment as she listened. When he was too exhausted to speak any longer, she took his hand and held it from shaking. “Pham Kai, please hear me, my dear man. No amount of treatment can ever cure me if I lose you. Please stop this folly. Let’s get back to our regular life. We are not meant to be the type of people who take such risks.” She embraced him. “Please, stop!”

  Pham Kai stared at the cooler, and she followed his gaze to the bright light emanating from underneath its tilted lid. “What’s in the cooler?” she asked. “Why is it glowing?”

  “I’m not sure,” he replied, sighing. “It’s the most beautiful fish I’ve ever seen in my life. I think we need to take it to Haiphong and show it to the people at Tonkin Fisheries.”

  Minh walked over to the cooler and opened it. This was no su vang fish—it was something even more amazing.

  “You’re right, husband,” Minh agreed. “You go ahead and sleep. I’ll sell the rest of the catch in the market, and tomorrow, we’ll head out to meet Hoang Binh.”

  Pham Kai slept for eighteen hours, waking up the next morning at six. Disoriented, he turned over to find Minh making breakfast. He glanced at the cooler and the entire nightmare came rushing back.

  “How are you feeling?” Minh asked, happy to see the love of her life awake and in seemingly better condition than the day before.

  “Much better,” he answered.

  “Good,” she said. “Get up, wash up, and change. We have a long journey today.”

  Over the years, Pham Kai had made a friend named Hoang Binh, who on occasions visited their village to meet with the local fishermen. He worked for a large fishery and always shared stories of exotic fish found in Vietnamese waters. On his visits to the village, he had mentioned several times to Pham Kai to contact him if and when he caught an exotic fish, as he would try to fetch him a good price.

  Minh had prepared half a dozen parathas—round flatbreads with layers like a croissant. She packed them along with cream mixed with sugar and pickled mango. Pham Kai had made this trip several times, and knew the course well. He steered their boat north, keeping the coastline on their left. By 7:30 in the morning, they were pointed toward Haiphong. Minh had helped Pham Kai clean the boat of all the debris and attach a cloth covering the gaping hole in the wall. She then took out a paratha, spread cream on it, rolled it up, and gave it to Pham Kai. He bit into it, realizing he hadn’t eaten anything for well over a day. He handled the wheel with his left hand and ate his breakfast with his still-hurting right hand. She also handed him a bowl of hot, sweet chai. Pham Kai took another bite of the paratha and a sip of chai, the combination soothi
ng his soul.

  They reached the port of Haiphong by midday, bustling with container ships, large cranes, and thousands of boats. During the half-hour bus ride to Tonkin Fisheries. Pham Kai made sure to wear his lucky Tonkin Fisheries cap, which Hoang had given him several years ago.

  Tonkin Fisheries was a large, white building fronted by huge main gates. Minh and Pham Kai got off the bus and made their way to the guardhouse. After they registered, the guard on duty called the reception desk to inform Hoang Binh that he had guests. His eyes lingered on Minh a fraction too long. He then got up and walked around the counter, asking Pham Kai to show him what was in the cooler.

  Pham Kai didn’t feel comfortable showing the fish to the guard. “This belongs to your boss, Hoang Binh,” he said sternly, “and only he is allowed to look in this cooler.”

  Pham Kai’s resistance surprised and insulted the guard. The guard moved toward them grimly, with the full intent of ripping the cooler from Pham Kai’s grip.

  Just then, the door opened and in walked Hoang. He quickly noticed the expressions on Pham Kai and Minh’s faces. “What are you doing?” he shouted at the guard.

  “I-I was just checking to see what was in the cooler,” the guard stammered.

  “Pham Kai and Minh are my family,” Hoang said. “Go back behind the counter or you won’t work here again.”

  The guard scurried back to his station. Hoang bowed and walked the pair out of the guardhouse toward his building.

  He took them to the company cafeteria, which had a full buffet with several hot dishes, salads, two types of rice, and a variety of desserts. The quantity and variety of food was something the couple had never seen before, and the aromas were mouthwatering. Hoang offered them lunch, but their humility prevented them from accepting, and they declined. They sat down and Hoang instead ordered them chai and biscuits.

  Hoang watched with a smile as Minh dipped a biscuit in her tea, waiting for them to share the reason for their visit.