The Missing Piece of the Puzzle

Chapter 2 Jason

Chapter 2 Jason

Woods Hole, Ma

Friday September 24th 2091

The journey home was short, but Jason that evening was late, again.

The thirty miles route to Providence crossed a totally flat landscape, dotted with small maritime facilities, the maritime activities being the main source of income for the few locals. Inconspicuous fields of forage and tobacco bordered the road. There were no relevant infrastructures in the area, with the exception of Woods Hole's huge dock, specifically built to protect the Centre for Marine Studies from the violence of the ocean. It loomed over the old marina, totally obliterating it, but its usefulness was questionable. Jason had been living in Massachusetts for twenty years and had only witnessed rare seasonal storms that, at worst, had blown away a few tin roofs from the fishermen's houses nearest to the coast. This year, the wet season was late and no storms were yet forecasted. Actually, the last stifling heat of the autumnal sun was now almost unbearable and everybody was waiting with anticipation for the first rain.

Then, of course, there was the Marine Centre, low and bulky, covering hundreds of square yards, rectangular in shape and hosting several pools of sea water. The dock shielded the east side while the other three were protected by an intimidating, tall, military style fence.

But, in spite of its appearance, the Centre was not a military installation. Whatever it was, it looked overly modern and lavish,showing off the huge amount of New Credits spent in advanced technologies to make it impressive.

It hosted the best scientists in the field: first rate researchers from Europe, chemists and geneticists from Japan, bio-engineers and nano-technologies programmers. All people that published in the most renowned science magazines. But there also were some, more recent acquisitions: young multi graduated scientists, sprung out from the remotest corners of the world.

Twenty years ago things were different.We might not have had rows of diplomas on the walls, but we did make a difference, Jason thought with some pride.

There was Amber Matthews, his Amber, creator and developer of the Super-plankton project, but by now nobody remembered it anymore.

Jason eyes almost closed in remembering... It was in those years that he had met her and his life had changed forever. How? Like all fundamental things in life, it happened in a blink. Jason knew it had been love at first sight.

It had been, and still was, a winning combination. They both had steady jobs, were in good health, respected and well-liked. But Jason's personality retained a measure of restlessness, more evident in his youth and still somewhat lingering.

He was a handsome man of fifty that did not look his age. His hair was still thick, with just a touch of grey at the temples and his eyes were still sharp and intense.

Every day he commuted to and from Providence by car, but his present activity was insignificant and probably useless. It had deeply undermined his self esteem.

Jason was a deep sea geologist , with a rare and prestigious doctorate that less than a hundred researchers in the whole world could claim.

He had obtained his degree with just a few months' work on board an oceanographic ship. After that, he had spent long years theorizing doomsday scenarios, possible submarine eruptions, deep sea quakes, deadly effects of radioactivity pollution, until he unexpectedly arrived at the MBL, where he started studying deep sea streams.

Aboard the Constellation, his relationship with Dr. Amber Matthews was, from the beginning, very intense, while Project K407, the legendary Super-plankton, was starting to take shape.

In that glorious moment, he deluded himself that he would be finally able to consolidate his career and gain a stable reputation in the scientific world. But success was too sudden and he found himself unable to cope with the social and political demands involved. And so he fell back, behind those younger and ambitious members of the Science Council, much better skilled in that respect.

Overcoming his restlessness, at the peak of both their careers, he married Amber.

Their union proved to be solid through the years, in spite of the slow and progressive scientific inertness they both had to endure.

Too specialized to be assigned lower tasks, never with enough friendly connections inside the administration board to get the recognition they deserved, they slowly fell further and further away from the Centre core activity. For years they taught younger researchers on the rise, they organized multi subjects conferences, worked as consultants for outside clients but, in the end, Jason and Amber were just two ill at ease dinosaurs at the dawn of the mammals era.

Jason was more concerned for his wife than for himself (anyway this had always been his excuse). He longed to offer her much more than he actually could, like a more comfortable home, a better job, may be moving to a big city, a gratifying social life. But there were uncertainties, dilemmas, children to grow and ties to a past too extraordinary to forget.

And so they settled in the town house the Centre assigned them and locked their dreams and ambitions in a trunk. They advanced in the years inconspicuously, their sense of irony intact.

Amber kept working at Woods Hole, raising the twins with mild permissiveness. Now that they were adult and independent, she had resumed her writing and seemed at peace with herself. Jason was still commuting to and from Providence and took care of all the rest.

Jason had never really let go of the feeling that the world somehow still owed him. On his way home he had acquired the habit of watching the job offers on the car video screen. In the last few weeks there had been several from the same entity, You arch or The arce...or something similar. It should be a large organization, judging by the hundreds of job offers it was advertising. In the last few days the ads had doubled and they concerned all kind of personnel: unskilled workers, masons and carpenters but also technicians and qualified operators in various specific fields. But no offers for an expert geologist who could claim the paternity of hundreds of essays still consulted in Universities all over the world... they were looking for plumbers, programmers, hairstylists, dog hairdressers, pruners, teachers... what the heck! thought Jason. It looked like all Massachusetts workforce had retired on the same day! Or, perhaps, there were too many graduates and very few of them ready to accept a low level job...

But, wait a moment! Scrolling down faster he saw many ads for medical doctors, journalists, geneticists and... marine geologists. Don't tell me! He thought sarcastically. The ad had no details and it all seemed very peculiar. What kind of organization can have activities so diversified as to need a Sri Lankan cook and a deep sea geologist?

He decided to investigate further, but not at the moment. He had just arrived home.

The first red of dusk was bathing an already asleep Wood Hole, but his mind was awake and racing, fuelled by the perfectly timed restlessness he was feeling.

I'll be damned if tomorrow I will not look further into the matter! he lied to himself. He already knew he would never be able to wait until tomorrow.