by Razi Imam
“Welcome to the world’s first Paramarine Operating Center, otherwise known as the POC,” Cebrián said. He walked to the center of the room, turned his attention to the main screen and called out, “Poseidon.”
The large wall-to-wall screens turned a deep blue, complete with colorful coral reefs and spectacular marine life. A pleasant, synthesized male voice emanated from the room’s speakers. “How may I help you, Doctor Alveraz?”
“Anything new today that may be of interest to our Paramarines?” Cebrián asked.
“Certainly,” Poseidon said. “I have been tracking Twitter feeds from a deep-sea research expedition off the coast of Baja, California. They have discovered a new bioluminescent specimen at a depth of four thousand feet. It appears to be a jellyfish that is being tested for cancer-fighting immuno-therapies.”
The Twitter feed in question showed up on a screen with its photo below it. Cebrián scanned the information as Sebastian stood, fascinated.
“Thank you, Poseidon,” Cebrián said. Using the intercom, he requested that the four scientists working in the adjoining lab join him in the conference space.
The conference table was a large touch screen, and all the displays in the POC were duplicated on it. Cebrián touched a soft panel in one corner of the screen, and its surface assumed the appearance of a birch table with an aquamarine stripe running down the middle. A colorful coral fish would swim through the aquamarine strip from one end to the other. Sebastian took the aquamarine stripe to mean that Poseidon was present as well.
One by one, the scientists, or Paramarines, as Cebrián called them, entered and introduced themselves.
Shiloh was a marine biologist and mechanical engineer. He was short and slim, with a warm complexion and shoulder-length black hair that he often tied back when working. His beaming, contagious personality emerged as he talked about his work on deep-sea submersibles, sensors, and aquatic technology.
Fabienne was another marine biologist with outstanding expertise in experimentation, research, and analytical deduction. Her fiery red hair was cut into a short bob with bangs, further adding to her natural intensity. She was outspoken and talked with her hands, was passionate about her work, and seemed to wear her emotions on her sleeve.
Of the other two scientists, Nidal was a geologist and Michelangelo was a data scientist. They struck Sebastian as idiosyncratic, but not in a bad way. He couldn’t put his finger on it. They were twins, but not because they looked similar or were related—it was their mannerisms and how they spoke, as if they’d been working together for a long time and had picked up each other’s expressions and non-verbal cues. Both were tall and appeared nimble, with a quiet and swift way of walking and moving. Nidal had dark hair that matched his dark-rimmed glasses and a serious face. Michelangelo had tousled blonde hair and a light scruff that gave him a soft, warm appearance.
Cebrián welcomed them all, introducing Sebastian as the researcher who had found the specimen that proved Step Evolution.
Fabienne’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute. You’re the one who found the snails? We’ve been wanting to meet you!”
Sebastian laughed. “Yes, but I just got lucky.” He loved that his big discovery was referred to as “the snails.”
Shiloh chimed in. “No such thing as luck. You rocked it, man!”
Like a big sister would, Fabienne rolled her eyes, and gave Sebastian a hint of the deep friendship the scientists had formed through their long hours working together.
“This place is impressive,” Sebastian said, “When Doctor Alveraz invited me to Scripps to discuss an idea I couldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams what I’m seeing here today. Paramarines, artificial intelligence, and a command center with state-of-the-art equipment.” He paused, turning his gaze to Cebrián. “Who’s funding all this?”
Cebrián leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “This has been in the works for quite some time. I submitted an ambitious proposal to our government explaining that nature has had over four billion years to evolve. There are species living in our world that have solutions to the global problems faced by mankind.
“If given the funding, I told them I would build a team of scientists whose mission would be to find such specimens and biomimic their natural capabilities, providing us with solutions far beyond anything we could imagine. After several years of discussion and debates, they agreed to fund my new initiative. This new research division has bipartisan approval, with a ten-year budget of three hundred million. This includes access to military transports, use of state-of-the-art government research facilities, and two of our very own Gulfstream G650ERs—private jets outfitted to transfer the POC and Poseidon anywhere in the world. We call them Panther One and Panther Two.”
He paused, looking at Sebastian. “We’re going to research the cutting edge of known science, and the key question is…” His voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper as he subconsciously rotated the outer bezel of his watch. “Will you join us?”
“I’m not sure what to say,” Sebastian admitted. “Your work here sounds exciting, but you’re blurring the line between science and science fiction.”
Cebrián laughed. “Good, we don’t want anyone to take us serious. We’re operating under the radar, until such time that we’re ready to change the world. I think you’re well suited to our task. You have a do-or-die, persistent attitude, you listen to your gut and apply scientific and logical deduction, and you’re unafraid to search the farthest corners of the Earth to find your answers.”
Sebastian nodded, looking down at the aquamarine wave on the table. Cebrián’s words sounded sincere and compelling, and he wasn’t kidding when he said he was working on a new evolutionary science. Sebastian folded his arms and rested his elbows on the table. Clasping his fingers, he spoke. “Searching for snails in the Panamanian jungle is not too far a cry from what I think you guys are doing here.” He grinned.
Cebrián flashed his signature smile as the team began to walk over and shake hands with Sebastian. “I’ll let you guys get to know each other. It’s time for me to get back to my day job.” He walked out of the conference area toward the elevator, giving Sebastian a pat on the back on his way out.
Sebastian spent most of the day getting to know the team. They all had similar stories: some had their PhD research topic stolen, others had lost their life’s work to their senior team members. Cebrián had put the team together due to their common thread.
Shiloh walked Sebastian through the POC, explaining the various stations and their functions, the large hand-gesture navigation screen, and the power of Poseidon. Fabienne took him through the lab, highlighting new features of the equipment he may not have seen before. One was a hermetically sealed pod, complete with a bed, desk, and intercom. “What’s that for?” Sebastian asked.
“It’s a special portable chamber that seals off radiation, bacteria, and any unknown particles,” Fabienne said. “We may have to use it if we come in contact with new specimens that may pose a danger. It can be taken apart and reassembled in minutes.”
“Have we found any good specimen candidates for research?” Sebastian asked.
“Not yet,” Fabienne replied. “But there are several potential leads. Well, now that we have an adventurer like you on our team, we may have better luck.”
Sebastian shrugged. “We’ll see.” He got a feeling that Fabienne did everything by the book. She was detail-oriented, a true researcher. He could bank on her to ensure that all research protocols were followed. He thought they’d get along well.
Nidal and Michelangelo were walking Sebastian through their current work when the POC screens lit up and a submarine ping echoed.
“What happened?” Sebastian asked.
“Poseidon just got a hit,” Fabienne responded.
“What does that mean?” Sebastian asked.
Before Shiloh or Fabienne could respond, Poseidon answered. “Doctor Miles,” the robotic voice said, “I have found two data vectors that
have cosine similarities, pointing to discrete events that may be connected.”
Sebastian was taken aback upon hearing his name. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to respond.
Poseidon continued. “The first data vector is a blog post from a professor, Dr. Vu Ha of the Vietnam Maritime University, located in Haiphong City. It is about a local fisherman from the village of Nhon Ly who captured a fish around Paracel Islands that may be a new species. This fish has a unique glowing feature, a nodule that travels from its head to its dorsal fin. It seems to have a hypnotic effect on people. The blog did not go into too much detail, other than the fact that people would spend hours looking at it.
“The second data vector points to the Vietnamese fishermen from the same village. Some of them exhibit peculiar markings on their bodies that look like two puncture wounds. I found these images on local social media sites, with no commentary explaining them.”
“Poseidon, please call me Sebastian,” he said, trying to get comfortable with the idea of talking to a supercomputer. He turned to the team to see if they would be fine with him taking the lead. They all gestured for him to go ahead. “Poseidon, why do you think these two vectors are connected?”
“According to my correlation algorithm,” Poseidon answered, “it appears that fishermen with these markings are those who most often search for unique species. However, I am unsure about causation.”
“Okay, let’s figure this out,” Sebastian said. “Let’s see if we can find the fisherman who caught this fish and determine if he has these puncture wounds. Poseidon, please show us the markings on the fishermen. Also, please bring up a map of the Paracel Islands, the South China Sea, the Gulf of Tonkin, and a satellite view of Nhon Ly village.” In seconds, the images popped up. Sebastian was surprised how fast the data appeared. “Please transfer these images to the conference room,” he requested.
The team made their way back to the conference table. Nidal stepped forward and pointed at a group of islands as he adjusted his glasses. “These are the Paracel Islands, not too far from Nhon Ly village. Geographically, this area is made up of large, rocky hills, deep caverns, and over a hundred coral reefs,” he explained. “And this, nearby, is the area of the South China Sea where China is building a military base, which has lead the whole area into an intense territorial dispute with Vietnam. China is restricting all fishing by Vietnamese fishermen around these islands.”
Michelangelo spoke, rolling up his sleeves. “Based on the information collected by tsunami sensors, there have been significant changes in water depth near one of the islands. The opening of a massive underwater cavern may be the cause.”
Shiloh gestured across his section of the table to bring up pictures of Nhon Ly village—its streets, modest homes, and round, blue, basket-like fishermen’s boats. With a flick of his hand, he started sending them to Sebastian. Images of the market and videos of fisherman pulling in their catches in big nylon nets floated around the table. Markings covered the fishermen’s hands, necks, and faces, just as Poseidon had described.
“Take a look at this,” Fabienne said, pulling one photo apart and shooting a copy to each person. “Notice the writing on his cap.” It was a picture of a thin, wiry man with hardened lines of age and sea weather on his face. He was sitting on the beach with three other fishermen, an old boat in the background. He wore a green coat and gray track pants, with slippers on his feet. He was looking away from the camera, toward the sea. His eyes expressed his thoughts—he seemed lost in a dream. The words on his khaki baseball cap were hard to read, yet legible: TONKIN FISHERIES.
“Poseidon, I have a hunch,” she said. “Can you locate where Doctor Vu’s university purchases unique specimens?”
“Checking,” Poseidon said. After a few seconds, it continued. “Tonkin Fisheries provides specimens to Doctor Vu Ha’s university. The fishery is located near Haiphong City.”
“Okay then, can we find the identity of this fisherman?” asked Sebastian.
“Sure,” Michelangelo said. “We can cross-reference his face with the published database of registered fishermen in the village of Nhon Ly. The Vietnamese government requires all fishermen to be registered before they can get a fishing license.” He started opening files and accessing information on the table in front of him. He had a name in a few minutes. “Pham Kai,” he announced. “Registered fisherman. Fifty-three years of age. Inherited his boat from his father, who inherited it from his father. A generational fisherman.”
Sebastian expanded Pham Kai’s picture and found two markings on his neck. “Is there a way to find out if he’s ever traveled to Tonkin Fisheries?”
“Let’s see,” Fabienne said. “Poseidon, analyze satellite images of this area, isolate Pham Kai’s boat, and see if it’s made the six-hour journey to Haiphong in recent months.”
“How long will that take?” asked Sebastian.
“Approximately ten minutes,” Poseidon answered. “I will have to analyze satellite images over the past year.”
The team dispersed, checking phones and finishing a few tasks at their workstations while they waited. Sebastian took the time to explore one of the transparent gesture screens, familiarizing himself with the actions Shiloh had taught him.
Before he knew it, Poseidon’s familiar nautical ping was heard. The Paramarines gathered at the center of the POC. “I have reviewed over hundred thousand images,” it said. “Most of Pham Kai’s navigation patterns have been in heavy fishing lanes. However, there are two departures from this norm. Around six months ago, he made several late-night or early-morning trips to the Paracel Islands, most of them near Bombay Reef. Later, he made a trip to Haiphong port. And importantly no other fisherman boat has made this trip.”
“Fabienne,” Sebastian said, “I think you’re right. He appears to be our fisherman.” He approached the man’s image on one of the screens. “What have you found, Pham Kai?” he whispered. “And what are those marks on your neck?”
Sebastian turned away from Pham Kai’s picture. His mind raced. “Shiloh, can we call Doctor Vu Ha?”
“Sure, what time is it in Vietnam?” Shiloh asked.
Someone shouted, “Eight o’clock a.m.”
“On it,” Shiloh said.
A few moments later, a man’s voice came through the speakers. “Hello?”
Sebastian spoke up. “Doctor Vu Ha?”
A tentative “Yes?” came through the speakers.
“Doctor Vu Ha, this is Doctor Sebastian Miles from the Scripps Institute of Oceanography. We’re calling about your blog post from several weeks ago referring to a new marine specimen. Are you still researching it?”
Vu paused, not believing that his blog post had worked. Controlling his excitement, he replied in his most professional voice, “We’ve stored the specimen for future research, for now. And please, call me Vu.”
“Sure, please call me Sebastian,” Sebastian responded. “Vu, you mention in your blog that the specimen has a hypnotic effect on people. What do you mean by that?”
“Sebastian, it’s the most puzzling specimen I’ve seen in my academic life,” Vu replied. “There’s an unexplainable biological feature on it that defies any scientific explanation we can find. The fish is dead, but there’s one part of it that appears to have a life of its own. It emanates some form of visible energy that moves from the head down to the dorsal fin. It’s this movement that one can’t stop staring at during examination. My students have often lost track of time while looking at it, and so have I. And there’s a mysterious slit adjacent to its dorsal fin. We believe it’s a new species—it certainly warrants further investigation.”
“Okay, Vu.” Sebastian said. “Would you be open to Scripps taking a look at it?”
Once again there was a brief silence. “That would be wonderful. My concern is that we don’t have a reciprocal research agreement between our two institutions, and your request may be rejected,” Vu replied.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the team, and the
y nodded their agreement.
Vu continued, “Send me an official request from your department, following the proper protocols, and I’ll forward it to our department chair with my recommendation. Let’s get the paperwork filed and we’ll deal with the red tape if and when it shows up.”
“Sounds good,” Sebastian said. “Expect an email from us in the next thirty minutes. And Vu, thank you for working with us.”
That afternoon, Cebrián joined the team in the POC. He walked over to the maps on the screen, looking at Haiphong. “Did you say this specimen is at the Vietnam Maritime University?” Cebrián asked.
“Yes, why?” Sebastian asked.
“I recommend you get ready,” Cebrián replied.
“Get ready?” Sebastian repeated.
Cebrián folded his arms and turned toward them. “I don’t think they will ship us the specimen. The Vietnamese government will bog down the process with red tape and bureaucracy. You’ll have to go to Vietnam and try to convince them to give it to you. I’ll call the state department and see if we can get your travel documents on the ground when you get there. It may be harder for them to refuse if you show up in person.”
Shiloh fist pumped and yelled. “Hell, let’s go to Vietnam and get this specimen!” The others agreed, though they seemed a bit unsure at the speed at which everything was happening.
They planned to meet at the private hangar housing Panther Two at six the next morning. Sebastian grabbed his helmet and backpack, and waved goodbye to the team. “See you bright and early.”
