Chapter 18
Dear future readers,
In retrospect, I am quite pleased with myself for mentioning personal matters in my previous journal entry. I keep many separate scientific diaries for my daily observations, but there is no other venue besides this one in which I may express my heart, if you will.
Today, my heart feels greatly overburdened.
The last time I wrote, I revealed a great epiphany and acknowledged, for the first time, my love for E. Cidnosin. The development of my feelings, of course, has only continued since then. She is the sort of person I never imagined I would be fortunate enough to meet and possesses an outlook on the world that I find simply magnificent and utterly singular.
More singular still is her most recent letter.
When I read it, I am ashamed to say that I feared at first that she suffered a worse trauma than her physicians observed (it would not be the first time that a Scholar of the Body was too occupied with their own research to worry about such trivialities as the health of a patient!). The more I reread her letter, however, the more its details fascinate me. I know E. is a meticulous, keen-eyed, astoundingly astute person, and if she says she experienced something of this nature, then I believe her testimony most thoroughly. (And that is to say nothing of the sketches she mentioned!) I will conclude that I need her account to be real: not only because I want so desperately to support her, but because it piques my curiosity in a way that nothing ever has before.
Our present mission seems dull in comparison, thanks to the taxing repair work that remains our focus for the time being. The labour seems endless. On the bright side, I now hold a great deal of respect for those blessed with natural strength – I might be good at lifting, but my stamina runs thin after a few hours of effort. Truly, I never thought I would build something in my life – in my wildest dreams, I always assumed that my eventual “home” would be a single-room Scholar’s Chamber at a homey Boundless Anchorage, perhaps pre-furnished and prepared to suit the needs of a solitary bachelor (or – “perhaps”-ing even more – myself and a partner, though I had never allowed myself to grow too attached to that dream before now. Goodness, dare I?)
Lerin has a family, as I learned today – a wife and four children! Truly remarkable. No single-room Scholar’s chamber for them, then, but a rather marvellous two-storey flat in one of the Intertidal Campus’s liveliest outer rings of human-built islands. It is because of this family (I also discovered) that Lerin remains aboard the Sagacity instead of moving on to greater projects – namely, projects at greater depths in the ocean. It appears that my friend was invited to serve on the first Ridge expedition (for the position which eventually went to Scholar Eliniea Hayve Forghe) but declined due to the riskiness of the operation. (O! But Lerin did have an opportunity to experience something Ridge-related today – producing an illustration of a potentially new Nautilus species, at Scholar Forghe’s request! I cannot wait to see the final image.)
I did not confess it during this conversation with Lerin (nor have I told another soul), but my thoughts – when they are not focused on E. – have been moving more and more towards the Spheres. The work that we are doing on the Sagacity (construction aside) is well and good, of course. I have learned more about rays in these past few tides than I ever could have in my laboratory, and I must admit that they continue to behave in the most unprecedented ways (as you’ll see in my scientific daybooks, dear Scholars of the Future!). But then I remember the esteemed Scholar Forghe and her ability to explore an utterly new ecosystem and I become riddled with (good-natured!) jealousy.
—a few hours later—
I cannot stop thinking about E.’s letter. It was remarkable that she said she was surrounded by darkness but could not see the stars during what was apparently the daytime. When I envision her story in my head, I picture something quite similar to those photo-engraved images of the Ridge produced during the first expedition – endless darkness speckled only with the vivid luminescence of the unknown. Where did E. go? How did she get there? Was it a journey of the body (likely not!) or of the mind (but how)? I need to find a map that will give me a sense of what the landscape looks like within a two-hundred-fathom radius of the Deep House. I need to find a map that will lead me to the answers of a puzzle that I cannot comprehend! And I need to understand that Structure! “That Circle Coruscates!”
—sadly, a few hours even later—
Words and images drift through my mind. If I shut my eyes and ignore the night-singings of my jubilant colleagues out on deck, I can create the most vivid brain-picture of truly anything I desire. I must think carefully about each sensory detail – each scent, each sound, the textures of every surface – but I can convince myself, in my head, that it has the appearance of reality. Was E.’s experience only the most glorious dream? Then how can she remember it all with such clarity? O by the seas, Darbeni would delight in this! That reminds me – she asked me a question about Darbeni, didn’t she? If only our ship could take a brief detour to the Archives.
This entry features all the trappings of a classic Henerey response to a mystery. He receives inexplicable news, immediately segues into another unrelated topic, and then concludes by attempting to write down his thoughts as fast as they fly through his brain. My brother’s mind worked like a waterwheel – when something catches the wheel, it will persist in rolling, even if its progress is ultimately impeded by the obstacle.
I miss him ever so much.
Dearest, kindliest Friends and Subscribers,
How gentle you are – how generous, how soft-hearted, how empathetic – to treat me, your Humble Correspondent, with such patience! You may have heard from less eloquent sources about the personal Calamity that recently occurred for one dear member of our Crew. Scholar Cidnosin returned home on a journey of sisterly mercy – and both patient and Sophy are doing well, rest assured! And while we have simply been – Adrift – without her presence, a new Anchor has arrived to provide us with a sense of Scholarly stability. Let me be the first to tell you that Scholar Tevn Winiver Mawr of Intertidal Campus, the secret founding member of the Ridge expedition along with Scholar Forghe – yes, a fact so thoughtfully Hidden from the Public Eye by the Chancellors for Reasons As Yet Unknown to Us – I jest, Chancellor Rawsel! – where was I? O, Tevn temporarily joined us to carry on Scholar Cidnosin’s work in her absence.
Yes, dear reader, you read that correctly! When Scholar Eliniea Hayve Forghe made her first voyage to the Ridge, she was not alone, but in the company of Scholar Mawr. It is news to us all! Because Scholar Mawr had to leave the mission early due to a Personal Crisis, he yearned to recover in utter privacy and dear Scholar Forghe was sworn to secrecy. Please pause for a moment to admire the emotional tenacity of our dear Expedition Specialist! How her secret burden – and her devotion to her friend’s wishes – must have weighed upon her!
Before you dash off to write up this breaking news in tomorrow’s issue of the journal of your choice (which I give you full permission to do, of course – unless your name happens to be SCHOLAR HARDIN EILE OF THE BOUNDLESS CAMPUS CURRENT, whom I shall never forgive! And you know why, Scholar Hardin Eile!), I have one more gift to share. An interview with inscrutable Tevn himself. What wonders will we learn of his mysterious past? What caused him to leave the first Ridge expedition – and why is he here now?
INTERVIEW WITH SCHOLAR TEVN WINIVER MAWR
Scholar Vincenebras:Dear Tevn, let me be the first to welcome you to the official Interview Chamber, a conduit through which riveting news will eventually travel to the surface in the form of my words!
Scholar Mawr:Apologies, Scholar Vincenebras. “Interview Chamber”? Are we not simply in the Galley? Perhaps I am confused.
Vincenebras:O, you rascal! It is a delight to interview you at last.
Mawr:Are you already recording what I say?
Vincenebras:It is so hard to speak privately with you, dear Tevn, because you are simply inseparable from our beloved Scholar Forghe! Would you tell our readers more about your history? Surely you must enjoy a close relationship after that first mission.
Mawr:Well, yes, Ni—Eliniea—and I were technically the first to survey at this depth. About a year ago.
Vincenebras: And the Chancellors must have known that no pair without a bond as strong as yours could endure such a risky venture, no?
Mawr:No one except young Scholars – equipped with that wonderful beginning-of-career innocence and optimism – would have agreed to this mission. Eliniea and I were not the Chancellors’ first choices, nor even their tenth. But when Eliniea’s Advisor nominated her, everything changed. Eliniea asked me to join her, and I accepted. It is as simple as that.
Vincenebras:Now, dear Tevn, we would have no story if there were anything “simple” about your life! After you and Eliniea returned from your voyage, she became the rising star of all the Campuses, while you vanished from the public eye. I don’t suppose you two had a lovers’ spat, did you?
Mawr:Eliniea and I share mutually platonic feelings. If you knew anything about her – or about me, though that seems less likely – you would know that such a thing is highly improbable. I apologise, Scholar Vincenebras, but I tire of this line of questioning. I was under the impression you had asked me here to discuss my present continuation of Scholar Cidnosin’s research, not the past.
Vincenebras:O, very well, if you insist! I don’t suppose you might be able to – liven that up, could you?
Mawr:I am afraid not. Scholar Cidnosin had been engaged in a survey of the Ridge with the goal of gathering enough data to create a topographical map. Now, my research interests lie more in how these seafloor features were made than what they presently resemble, but I know how to operate a Wayfinding Device. I can supply Scholar Cidnosin with all the information she needs to interpret when she returns.
Vincenebras:Will you survey the Point of Interest in particular?
Mawr:Well, I suppose so. How funny to hear you say that phrase! Did you know that I named it?
Vincenebras: Really, did you? Did not Scholar Forghe discover it?
Mawr:O, of course she discovered it, but I was the one to offer up the name. It was a joke between us. I never would have thought that she would continue using it.
Vincenebras:Finally – something vaguely entertaining!
INTERVIEW CONCLUDES
Well, dear friends, I am sure you will find Scholar Mawr’s laconic charm more appealing in due time. To me, his entire Scholarly career seems like one enormous Point of Interest!
With fondness to all (except SCHOLAR HARDIN EILE),
Vincenebras
Dear Niea,
You never need to offer any explanation (or self-reproach) for taking time to write back to me! Surely the day-to-day responsibilities of single-handedly running the most significant expedition in modern history keep you at least moderately busy. (Have I ever mentioned, by the way, that I find you to be the most remarkable Scholar I have ever encountered – in real life or a library?)
I do hope everyone else is well, of course. Ylaret’s letter was delightful – her writing truly sounds just like her voice – but surprised me by revealing that you will embark upon another field journey very soon! (Perhaps my letter might even arrive after you’ve already left – what an unfortunate thought.) Where will your undersea peregrinations take you this time? I wonder. Back to the Point of Interest? To another Point with some other virtue to its name? I shudder a bit to think that all of you might soon encounter enigmatic wonders that I may never see. (If you run into the Nautilus again, please give it my best regards.)
Ylaret also mentioned that Tevn has settled in among the crew and works well with you! Glad to hear it. I imagine it is a relief, at least, to have such a trusted friend like Tevn upon whom to rely in these circumstances. (I do hope he is – well, “on the mend” these days? I hardly know what to say about these new developments. Far be it from me to agree with Vincenebras, but he is right on one count – your ability to run this mission while protecting your friend’s privacy is astonishing.)
E. and I still spend nearly every hour together – if we are not chattering or reminiscing about one thing or another, we play games, bake, or simply stare out the window and watch the sea. (Now, every so often, she does flee behind closed doors to scribble away to Henerey, emerging hours later with a letter for me to post – which I do with great delight.) Minus Arvist, it almost feels as though we are children again, back in the days when the Deep House was our world.
What I need to keep reminding myself is that the Deep House is still E.’s world. And E., dear E., wants to go back. As soon as possible, really. I do not feel especially favourably about this course of action, but she continues to plead her case. It does not help that Jeime Alestarre – who offered generously to assess and repair our home while I took care of E. – returned to campus yesterday and told me that while the parlour will require extensive (and expensive) work, it was easy enough for her to shut it off from the rest of the house and fix what remained so we can return soon (assuming we don’t mind looking out the window and seeing the bones of our front room floating about in the waves).
As you might expect, then, we are all well but a little out of sorts. Though I take such delight in this unexpected time with my sister, I sometimes dream of the Spheres, and wake up disappointed by the brash sunlight slipping in through my chamber’s porthole. I yearn to research, to document, to explore. I have never spent this long away from Scholarly work since I was a child, you know! Surely I have surveyed every corner of our quarters a thousand times!
Unsurprisingly, you often make appearances in these Spheres dreams: in both professional and personal contexts.
But I hear E. awakening, so I must dream no more – as I have quite a pleasant reality to distract me in the meantime.
Much affection to you, and well wishes to all our friends – and to Tevn!
Yours,
Sophy
My dear E.,
I have thought of nothing else but you and your letter over the past day or so, and I do not intend to start thinking of anything else anytime soon
My dear E.,
You might be aware of a particular species of shrimp that moves so quickly (relative to its own body size) that it sometimes does not even realise that it is in motion until it has already caught a current to
My dearest* E.,
*I added on the superlative form in the hopes that it will demonstrate how my feelings towards you have not at all changed negatively following your “confession” – as I suspected you might fret about that!
Firstly, and above all else: thank you for trusting me. It means a great deal that you hold such faith in my discretion and understanding, and I shall live up to your expectations!
(While I do not intend to dwell on this outside of a parenthetical, I must admit that my initial thought upon reading the first part of your letter was that I almost feel I am to blame for your woes – if only you had decided to stay in your room that fateful day rather than writing a letter to me in the parlour – but I suppose there is naught to be done about that now.)
My general impression is that you are less troubled by the experience itself (though it certainly sounds harrowing) than by the thought that you have lost your wits or that those whom you care about will not believe what happened. I, however, am not as emotionally connected to the occurrence as you**, obviously, so if it does not seem too arrogant, may I attempt to approach it from a scientific perspective and lay out the facts, plain though they may be? A few items of interest to me follow:
Item 1 being that you found yourself in an unfamiliar sea, which means you must have travelled, because otherwise you would have recognised the friendly sight of the ocean around the Deep House (and would not have been surprised by the time of day). There is a possibility, I suppose, that if an extremely fast-moving jet of water burst through the library, it might have projected you somewhere very far away. But then how did you return? No, clearly you did not travel physically in the traditional sense. And if that is the case, you must have either invented this entirely new environment in your brain – in which case, well done! – or you were transported there in a way that we cannot yet fathom. (I find this latter option most intriguing.)
Item 2 being the shadow swimming after you – did you get any sense of its shape? That might help us narrow down what manner of creature it was. I can already think of a few off the top of my head that are sufficiently larger than a human being, and most of them are whales or rays (and thankfully would not have posed much of a threat to you!). Part of me secretly hopes and suspects that it was thin and ribbon-like, as you seem to attract Fathom Eels, but I imagine you would have observed that characteristic!
Item 3 being the one that fascinates me the most – what more can you tell me about the coral-like surface upon which you found yourself beached? This is but a silly, childish fancy, but when I was a boy and first learning about reef colonies, I always wondered if it could be possible for a coral platform to grow to such a height that it simply becomes an island in all but name. Like a complete reversal of how atolls diminish into coral reefs in time!
Item 4 being the Structure itself. Well, as we read in that book I brought (how fondly I think back to that evening, always), people have, from time to time, discovered Antepelagic devices in various parts of the ocean that behaved in unusual ways. Most of them no longer function properly once immersed in water. I suppose it is possible that an old enough machine might short-circuit in a dramatic fashion if damaged.
And how could I forget? Your sketches! Surely you should hold tight to the originals, and I am glad to hear that they bring you comfort. In the event that you feel well enough to trace me some copies, I would love nothing more than to see them.
(Of course, I would much prefer to see you, were such things possible.)
As you can tell, I remain incredibly curious about the whole affair – but I do not want to seem callous by discussing your experience in this way, nor do I wish you to think that I am not altogether scarred by the thought of you lost and alone in some unknown place.
It terrifies me.
But perhaps if we think through it together, we can take comfort in each other? If I were a Medic, I would prescribe to you nothing more than careful meditation on your own thoughts with support from those who care about you (including, as I’m sure you may have gathered, this correspondent).
Yours,
Henerey
P.S. Many thanks for your wondrous field journal entry. Imperturbable Toothed Whales can be quite charming, can’t they? They were the first cetaceans I ever observed in their natural habitat, and always occupy a fond place in my heart. It is also delightful to think that this is one of the few times you have been “on the surface”! I hope the world above is treating you well.
P.P.S. You know, dear E., I must confess something altogether embarrassing and out of character. That book on Darbeni that I recommended to you – I have not read it entirely. I needed to cite one of the author’s translations of a particular primary source for my thesis, but as always, time was short, so I used the index, flipped to the relevant page, obtained my citation, and continued my research. It was shoddy work, really – the kind of thing that suggests I am not reading for my own enrichment but rather so I might choose the right facts to help me make a point to please the Chancellors.
Consequently, I was completely surprised by the passage you produced. I too wonder about that “poetry circle”, and what else its participants said about this “Circumference” (and the “predator”!). Sadly, only the Archives know right now! I don’t suppose you would be able to go to the Reading Room by yourself, but perhaps you might enlist Sophy? (You needn’t reveal your true mission, of course – surely she would understand your desire to surround yourself with “comfort research” about Darbeni.) If she slips through the underwater tunnels to the Library Anchorage between the hours of nine and nine and a half bells in the morning (when the Refectory serves hot beverages) or just before sunrise (when most Scholars are retreating to their beds), there will likely be few people there. My friend Elaxand could help her if necessary.
**In the sense that I was not there, not that I do not care emotionally about what you have experienced! O dear. I suppose I will write more about this in the body of my letter so you do not think me insensitive. (Though I don’t know whether you are the sort of person who skips to footnotes immediately after seeing an asterisk or number or if you wait until completing the entire letter before proceeding to such auxiliary material… perhaps you have already read the body of my letter in its entirety, and still find my sensitivity lacking!)