"I am sorry?" Reed wasn't sure how to reply, the heat of embarrassment travelling to her cheeks.

"I apologise for calling so early, however, it is a pressing matter... My name is Clarence Thompson, I am calling on behalf of Gateway Oceanic Institute. I must inform you that the call is being recorded. For confirmation, am I speaking with Ms Rowan Agatha Reed, employed at the Salthill Institute and Rescue Centre?"

"Erm... Yes, that's me..." She coughed out, now more docile than mere minutes before. She was ready to cuss the man and his kin out, fully prepared for him to be Bell. Truly, you couldn't blame her, the man had thrown similar feats before, calling on ungodly hours, dumping unexpected papers on her or moving deadlines with disregard for Reed's personal time. If there was anybody who would call her from an unknown number, it would be Bell.

And yet, it was not him...

"Ms Reed, have you heard about GOI before?" Clarence asked, tone unwavering despite the awkwardness radiating from Reed's side of the call. She shook her head, before remembering that Clarence could not, in fact, see her.

"No... I am afraid I haven't."

"We are an independent Oceanic Research institute, located on the coast of Florida. Currently, we are searching for candidates for a new Deep-Sea project led by one of our head scientists, Doctor John D. Cannan, who is also the person who has requested you to be added to the list of candidates, based on your experience and the published works."

To say Reed was stunned would be an understatement. It was the second time, in the span of a few days, somebody would contact her to request her help. Eight years... Eight years passed since her early retirement from the scientific scene. Eight years since anybody of importance had contacted her to request partnership or help... It felt somewhat good, to be that "expert" everybody suddenly wanted in their team. However, just because something presents itself as good, it doesn't mean it will end well, and Reed knew it more than the others. The fact that she was being contacted out of the blue by strange people was more concerning than thrilling.

"I am sorry, but... How did you get my phone number?"

There was a pause, the man behind a phone clearly taken aback by the question.

"Well... We have run a background check, and employment database and eventually, we have found your contact data on one of Salthill's websites." He replied slowly. Reed bit the inside of her cheek. Milo clearly didn't care for Reed's adamant request not to be put on the contact list. Most likely, Bell had also found her through the contact page then...

That cheeky bastard... He promised...

"Were you not aware of your contact information being public?" Clarence asked awkwardly. Reed sighed, rubbing the morning grogginess away from her face.

"No... I guess I wasn't. I am sorry Mr Clarence, but I am afraid I already have a place of employment, moreover, I do not envision changing it."

"Would you maybe be interested in hearing about the project before declining our offer?"

Persistent little fucker...

Reed rubbed her temple, feeling the nausea bubble in her chest. It was early, she was hungry and tired, definitely not in the mood to argue with some foreign institute whether she liked her job or not. Had Clarence called her a little later in the morning maybe she would have entertained him, but given her emotional and physical state, Reed's temper was much more shorter than usual.

"Alright, listen here... Clarence... I already have a job, a job that I really like..."

...even though it brings little money.

"... Not to mention, Florida? That's pretty fucking far buddy. I have already declined the offer, so if we could please just go each other's way, that would be just great..."

"I understand... Would it be alright if-"

"No, thank you. Goodbye."

She knew she was rude, well... probably very rude and she knew that it wasn't poor Clarence's fault they paid him for calling, but she just couldn't take it... Not today, not in this house... There was so much to unpack just from the last day, let alone a week. She slowly stood up, legs shaky from the whole night on the floor as the woman began to make her way towards her bed. Her head was buzzing with scattered thoughts, the memories of the day before tumbling chaotically as she tried to focus.

Shark.

Call Doctor Walsh.

Mom.

Ruth.

"Fuck you and your fucking baby".

Bell.

Tired. I am tired. I am tired.

Car horn.

"Are you familiar with GOI?"

Lights. The bright lights in the night.

"Little girl, are you alright?"

Dad...

Reed's head hit the cold pillows of her childhood bed, vision blurry. She could swear she was seeing the same shark swim past her eyes through the middle of the room, but she couldn't ponder on that thought too long as her eyelids closed.

When she woke up the sun was high up, shining through the window and painting the room in the hues of green young leaves outside of Reed's window. She looked around groggily, eyes adjusting to the brightness. For a second she felt like a little girl again, waking up on a Sunday morning in her little kingdom. Diane hadn't touched the room much, leaving almost everything intact and unchanged from the time Reed had moved out. The blue walls, white furniture, greys and baby blues on every rug or piece of decor. Reed remembered having begged her mother for the electric blue walls ever since primary school... Well, some things about her hadn't changed. She still enjoyed the dark blue walls looking like the ocean waves around her.

She could hear her sister and her husband talk downstairs, little Harvey cooing echoing through the house. She didn't know what time it was, and upon reaching for her phone it became evident she wouldn't find out, the phone's battery was long dead. She groaned, turning on her back while covering her eyes from the shining sun. She didn't feel ready. Yesterday's night was a mess and she didn't feel ready to face her sister and mother, both likely waiting to tear her to shreds. Maybe she could stay in the covers? Pull the blanket over herself and believe it will shield her from the monsters... Only the monsters weren't just the night terrors anymore. They were responsibilities, obligations... Promises and social expectations. It was a matter of time before Diane would barge in, asking why is she sleeping so long, so maybe it was for the best to just get up.

It didn't take her long to sneak downstairs, grab the forgotten duffle bag from the entrance and sneak back upstairs, praying that the creaking of the floorboards didn't alert the rest of the family. Her brain barely registered undressing or the walk to the bathroom, head swimmy from sleep. Reed only truly woke up the second warm water trickled down her body, muscles going lax as the warm shower fogged up the small upstairs bathroom.

Soon she found herself in front of the mirror, wiping away the fog from the reflection.

There she was... Rowan Agatha Reed, the eldest daughter of David and Diane Reed. It felt surreal, looking in the mirror yet feeling as if staring at a complete stranger... Or maybe not so complete. Reed truly looked like her mother, or rather, a younger different version of her.

Her short curly hair stuck to her temples and forehead, the scar from the accident cutting through the pale skin of her temple. She reached up, touching the marred flesh in a twisted sense of wonder. She vaguely remembered the crash, the details blurry. It was dark and late. There were trees all around them. She remembered the disgusting feeling of being caked in mud and blood. The lights... And then she woke up in the hospital, wrapped in warm blankets with a cast on her arm and eight stitches on her forehead. She even remembered that old sweet nurse, wiping disinfectant away from the wound as she cooed.

It will heal all nice. You won't even have a mark after.

Except she did end up with a sizable, dark line peeking out from her hairline, an imperfection which would cause years' worth of being called "The Boy Who Lived" or "Potter". Now, years later she did find the whole name-calling quite humorous...

Reed shook her head, trying to escape diving too deep into those thoughts. There was only so much she wanted to remember about that day. She reached out, opening the cabinet hiding behind the old mirror, a smell of medication and cosmetics pungent in the air. As she reached for her "emergency" toothbrush, as Diane would call it, her eyes trailed down the shelves, stopping at one particular prescription bottle. It was rather unassuming in appearance, just a mere white bottle with no label, but Reed knew it to be so much more.

She hadn't been on anti-anxiety medication since 2018, having laid it off due to lack of the "troubling" symptoms. She hadn't seen Doctor Walsh in a while also, having stopped paying for therapy, since there wasn't any point in going. She'd assumed she was better, and didn't need the lengthy heart-to-heart with Walsh every other day... And then yesterday happened. A fully manifested hallucination attacking her in the water after years of peace... It felt almost inevitable, calling Doctor Walsh after all these years, scheduling an appointment as if nothing had changed. As if she was still the same meek Rowan hopped off of the train, face swollen from crying. She'd been through so much, endured hardships unlike any other... It felt like a defeat. It felt like a failure. Like she couldn't just get better, neither in a year nor a decade. It stung, to think she was reversing into her old self...

You belong in an institution...

Reed walked downstairs, fresh and clean, with her phone resting in her pocket. It felt good to wear her favourite ratty clothes she only allowed herself to wear in the comfort of her own home. She would waste no time getting to the kitchen, her stomach demanding food, but she had to take a hard pause the second her foot crossed the threshold.

"Heya Mommies! In today's Storytime, I would like to talk about solid food training..." Ruth bounced Harvey on her lap as she talked to her phone, before pausing as Reed entered the shot.

"Really? You have to do it now?" Reed muttered, rolling her eyes at her younger sister. Only Ruth would come up with such a ridiculous way to spend her time.

"Jesus Christ, so much fucking cringe first thing in the morning..." she grumbled, passing Ruth and on the way to the fridge. Ruth scoffed, pulling her baby closer.

"First of all, watch yourself. Second of all, usually, people who deem something cringe are in fact cringe... Just for your information. I doubt you would understand that, given you don't even know how to operate Facebook."

"Yeah, fuck you too..." Reed smiled at the offended gasp from behind her. She could already imagine Ruth covering Harvey's ears as if his own father didn't curse like a sailor every time there was rugby on TV.

Ruth sighed, pausing the recording with one hand.

"You ruined my shot. I will have to do a retake."

"Really? I doubt anybody cares about Harvey smearing boiled carrots all over his face..."

"Jesus Christ, I don't know who put that stick up your asshole, but I think you have to go get it surgically removed..." Ruth rolled her eyes, swiping through the phone options, completely oblivious to Harvey munching on her blond locks. Reed grabbed a few slices of bread, arranging the divine sandwich she adored ever since she was little. She could have sworn nothing tasted better than a tomato with cheese and ham between two slices of bread in the morning. However, the second Reed made herself comfortable behind the table, Ruth glared at her, pointing at the camera.

"You can't sit there."

"And why is that?"

"I need to be alone to record, and no, I can't do that in my room. There is bad lighting."

Reed shrugged, not moving an inch from her respective place. Ruth's cheeks went red, her pulse visibly quickening. She was always quick to anger, having been unreasonably spoiled, or maybe neglected depending on the perspective.

"Get out. Can't you see I am busy?"

"What, are you shy because it's cringe?" Reed grinned, earning a middle.

"Get out Rowan!"

She chuckled, grabbing the plate and heading upstairs, hoping Diane would not see her carry the food upstairs. It was an old household rule, no food upstairs, but mostly nobody cared for it unless they were scrutinised by Diane that is. It wasn't long before Reed belly-flopped into the sheets, the plate resting on her right. She didn't think much, unplugging her phone before indulging in some mindless scrolling, however, she couldn't scroll for long, the pressing thoughts of responsibilities and worry creeping on her back. She opened her email, ready to search for Doctor Walsh, but her attention was caught by the few unseen messages she'd received overnight. The first few were from Doctor Bell, the topic of each turning more desperate, demanding her response and even sending a contract.

Reed scoffed, not believing the audacity the old fart had writing some of these messages. The most recent one, however, was not from Bell, the blue GOI logo glaring at Reed.

Sent 7:30 am... Somebody clearly didn't get the memo...

The topic of the message was simple, holding a challenge in the spelled-out "See for Yourself". Reed clicked away from the messages, going through the saved contact until the Walsh's email. Reed was never much of a writer, struggling to deliver what she wanted through pen and paper, often giving away too much or too little detail.

Dear Mrs Walsh

I would like to schedule an appointment, due to having hallucinations and...

No, it didn't sound right...

Dear Ellen

I would like to have a little chat. I have some symptoms we had been talking about all those years ago...

Nope, this one wouldn't do also. Too informal, she was a Doctor of Christ's sake, not a drinking buddy.

Dear Walsh

I have seen a goddamned phantom shark in the water and now I am pissing my pants because I am scared that I am crazy...

Reed groaned, deleting all she'd written. Honesty might not have been the best policy after all. She couldn't focus, feeling as if thousands of little voices were screaming in her head. She didn't want to write to Walsh. She didn't want to schedule yet another appointment and have her pick apart every life choice Reed had ever made. It was exhausting and irritating. Admitting Reed might actually still need her felt like admitting that she was right, asking Reed not to give up the visits all those years ago. Reed had never felt like she was in charge of something, never felt in control. When she was a teenager it was her mother, when she was a student and a young scientist it was Bell, then Walsh. Only recently had Reed felt like she'd been doing the things that she wanted, that she decided to do, unguided by a higher power. Letting all that go, so some stranger could judge your life? It both sounded and felt infuriating.

Reed clicked off the email, feeling the hot liquid rage boil deep in her core. Although she was ready to turn her phone off entirely, maybe indulge in yet another nap, the GOI logo lured her in like a moth to the flame.

"See for Yourself"

Clarence was certainly getting bold, writing something like that in the subject bracket. Certainly, she'd struck a nerve... She began deleting the unwanted emails, starting with Bell's, she didn't even bother hiding the satisfied little smirk stretching her features. And yet, when it came to the GOI email, she just couldn't do it... The bold letters glared at her, beckoning her to press and see what Clarence exactly wanted her to see.

Was it a contract?

A rude message from a tired line operator?

A vulgar picture? To be fair, she'd gotten a few of those while working at Oxford, but she was never sure whether it was sexual harassment or a poor attempt at flirting.

She couldn't resist, curiosity getting the best of her as she clicked on the mysterious email.

The message was brief, requesting she schedule a meeting if the contents of the attachments prove to be interesting. There was no signature, no "Best regards" or salutations. A completely informal email challenging Reed to look at the attachments as if saying "I dare you". It was utterly presumptuous and rude... Reed loved it.

The attachments seemed to be two pictures and one video, all sharing the same name but with different numbers.

OA1... Click.

Reed's brow furrowed at the bizarre sight before her. The picture depicted an open ocean, just a vast blue, however in the dead centre stood a wall of... black. Just a wall of pitch black in the middle of a cerulean depths. There was no texture, no reflection, just a wall of nothingness as if somebody had just deleted a part of the photo. On the right side, there were two more pictures, much smaller than the wall, both taken from the bird's view. In the first one, the wall of black was shown from the top, a perfect black circle in the middle of the ocean with some structure in the centre of it. It looked like an oil rig... but that couldn't be an oil leak, not in a perfect circle with no iridescent residue... Oil didn't behave like that... It looked as if the rig stood in the middle of the abyss, drowning all light and movement of the water. The third picture showed the heat signature of the area, the circle now glowing in an orange hue, clearly much warmer than the surrounding ocean. The tiny black letters stated the coordinates along with the "Atlantic" in bold letters.

OA2...Click.

Another picture showed the anomaly from much further than before. It appeared to be cylindric, a column of darkness reaching from the inky depths all the way to the surface, unpenetrated by light and unmoved by the tides, standing still like an ominous statue.

OA3...Press Play.

It was a video most likely made with the help of UUV* judging by the depth shown in the corner of the screen. A male voice was narrating the operation.

"Approaching the Anomaly, 20 meters. We are currently at a depth of 2300 meters, the visibility is poor due to lack of light however, according to the heat signatures we are almost by the anomaly..."

After a few minutes of silence, the UUV stopped.

"We are by the anomaly, I repeat, we are by the anomaly."

There was nothing by the pitch-black darkness before the camera switched to night vision, colouring the screen lime green. Suddenly as if out of nowhere, the lens was registering a wall of iridescent tissue, soft and gently flowing in the current. Tiny lights illuminated the surface of the anomaly, looking like little diamonds embroidered into a thin silky fabric.

"Preparing to take scans..." The man muttered. The UUV was equipped with what appeared to be a mechanic arm with a strange sensor, outstretching the arm towards the flowing tissue. The second the metal tip made contact with the surface, the iridescent mass shuddered before going motionless, the mass suddenly turning tense.

"Holy shit..." the man behind the controls muttered.

"I... I think it has a heartbeat..."

The video ended, revealing Reed's wide eyes in the reflection of the screen, her eyebrows almost touching her hairline as she stared at the "Replay" button. She pressed it, watching the whole clip again, and again, and again, each time more startled and on the edge. That... thing... That black mass had a heartbeat? It was a living organism? What the hell... She'd never seen anything like this. Never... She couldn't even assume what it could be. Was it some kind of a joke? A clever photomontage or a deepfake? But who would do such a thing? And surely, if something like that were to suddenly show up in the middle of the ocean, it would be in the news right?

They are fucking with me... Surely they are fucking with me... Who the hell even is GOI anyway?

But what if they weren't? What if they weren't fucking with her? Reed quickly tapped the browser icon, searching up everything she knew about the GOI and... she didn't find anything suspicious. A real website, address, contact, hell she even found that Clarence guy. Everything seemed, well, real... That thing could have been real. Against her better judgment, Reed came back to the email, looking at the link to schedule a meeting. Should she do it? Should she meet up with whoever was behind those emails? What if it was another hoax? She could never live that one down... No. No, she couldn't. She'd had a relapse with anxiety symptoms, family drama, hell she wasn't even that much of a scientist anymore. No, she should delete that stupid email and write to Walsh like she'd planned. She'd been hallucinating for Christ's sake. Reed opened the email once again, returning to the draft of the Walsh email, but however much she wanted to start writing, she just couldn't... Her fingers refused to type, mind practically pulling itself towards the cryptic message.

It has a heartbeat...

Her mind went blank, eyes unblinking as she clicked off the email, deleting the draft completely. This was... If it was real, this was a sensation. Something never seen before. She clicked on the GOI email once again.

It's just a meeting. I don't have to agree to anything.

She pressed on the link, revealing a sizable timetable.

Schedule a meeting- Today, 22:00

The whole day felt like a blip in time, Reed's mind completely preoccupied with the bizarre evidence of a new oceanic organism. There was little to find about the anomaly, Reed had skimmed through a multitude of sites, videos or even conspiracy theories. Nothing... There was nothing about a leviathan-sized creature holding hostage the whole oil rig. However, Reed found that certain ship courses had been redirected due to the military training at sea, all passages going through the same route at the open sea. What was even more interesting is that looking at the oilfields, a couple could potentially match the one in the photo. Reed wasn't much of a detective, especially about matters she didn't know much about, she was a biologist after all, but the offhanded comments and pieces of information painted a picture of a big conspiracy. The question was, why would they provide her with classified information if it was indeed a secret? She had checked the coordinates of maps, but only found outdated pictures of empty ocean... No rig in sight, not to mention the enormous creature below it.

She had no choice but to stay put, waiting for the meeting while trying not to go crazy from the suspense. It felt refreshing, a familiar tingle of determined curiosity. Sure, while working in Salthill she'd got to experience the warmth of fulfilment and stability and made real friends while falling into a routine. But Reed was a discoverer at heart, an adventurer submerging themselves in the mysteries of the deep while others worked on restoration and preservation, keeping to the surface where it was safe and bright. Nothing... Nothing she did at Salthill gave her that rush of adrenaline, that shudder of fear like travestying the Hadal Zones of the Atlantic. Only, it was a competitive field, filled with men and women determined to prove themselves, discover and conquer. Reed had already made quite a name for herself, had a couple of successful publications, and was involved in serious projects and debates, but as they say "the stars who shine the brightest, burn the quickest". Reed's downfall wasn't a gentle one, in a span of two days Reed went from "Bell's Prodigy" to "Psychotic Cunt", all while Bell was too busy saving his reputation before the crowd decides to burn him too... The strange discovery was bringing the old thrill back, appealing to the old addiction of drowning in papers. However, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt thinking about it... She had responsibilities tied to Salthill... The actual group of people who cared for her in ways she never experienced before... Muriel had given her a place when Reed had nowhere to go, allowing her to still have the connection to her field and Milo was nothing but a sweet puppy, looking up to Reed like children look up to their parents. She felt tied to the place, to the quiet halls of Salthill Institute and the people there, but she would be lying to herself if it didn't feel like being chained at times. Indulging herself like that felt selfish as if she was betraying Muriel...

I already have a job...

There had been moments which Reed held close to her heart, like rescuing Rosie, drinking in the local bar with Muriel or the late-night talks with Milo over the documents... And yet her heart yearned for something more, breaking a bit every time she would receive news of yet another discovery that brought them closer to uncovering the great mysteries of the ocean.

The closer it was to the meeting, the faster Reed's heart would beat. Would she make a complete fool of herself? What if it was a prank or an elaborate scheme arranged by Bell to get her to agree? Or maybe a scam? And what if it was all real? And she'd been selected by some high-end American scientist? Would she just abandon everything she knows and the people she loves for the sake of chasing the unknown? She was afraid she would agree, that she would just throw everything away again for the discovery... What if it ended up like last time? Everything she'd gathered and investigated ended up granting somebody else the awards and titles while she was told to just take it, to smile and clap...

Her eyes were bloodshot and unblinking, staring at the laptop screen in thought. Yes, she was curious. Yes, she had missed the feeling of participating in something much greater. But was she ready to pay the price for it?

Suddenly, the screen lit up.

GOI J.D Cannan

Reed could feel the bile rise in her throat. That was the head scientist, no? She hesitated for a second. What if she makes a fool of herself? Says something tactless or comes across as well... she hated that word...

Crazy?

Insane?

Psychotic?

Obsessive?

Click...

The screen filled with warm hues as the caller's camera clicked on, revealing an older man, sitting in a beige room. He seemed to be around fifty years old, his black hair greying at the temples. He looked distinguished, sporting an all-black turtleneck. Thin glasses were sitting atop the bridge of his nose, shining in the light of the room while he smiled at Reed.

"Hello, Doctor Rowan Reed I presume?" he greeted her quietly, his voice rich and low.

"My name is John Cannan, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I have really enjoyed your works, especially "The Giants of the Deep" and "Oceanic Cosmos", really insightful, indeed..." He chuckled, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back.

"Although, I have heard you weren't very enthusiastic this morning. I apologise for my impertinence, but how come you were so adamant about the job offer and yet I find myself having a meeting with you after?" He quipped, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. Reed watched him, her tongue stiff in her mouth as she tried to string a sentence. His presence was somewhat intimidating, with a polished outer appearance, a scientific degree not to mention the terrifying ease he confronted her with at the very start of the meeting.

"I... uh... I am sorry, I... The photos..."

Damn, she was out of practice, the Reed from Oxford wouldn't miss a beat to answer...

The man laughed, finding Reed's awkward stuttering amusing.

"Yes, yes, the photos... Fascinating isn't it? A humongous mass of tissue spawning in the middle of nowhere. I had a suspicion these would grab your interest...So, what do you think, Doctor Reed?"

"Me? What do I think?"

"You saw the photos... What do you think about this creature?"

Reed's eyes lit up, the long-forgotten part of her rising from the decade's worth of slumber. She cleared her throat just like she used to do before delivering her speeches back in the day.

"I can't say a lot, based on little evidence sent my way. The animal looks nothing like anything I have seen before. It could be a number of things depending on certain tests and measurements. My first thought it could be a colony of algae, but that doesn't explain the black colour and lack of reflectiveness. There could be also some form of Tunicate*, but again it doesn't explain the size and possession of a beating heart. It might as well be some colony of bacteria, but again the heartbeat... I guess the safest bet is to say the creature is a completely new species, never seen before and possibly unrelated to anything we know today." She concluded, observing John's reaction to the flood of information. The man on the other side seemed positively surprised, his dark eyes watching her every move as she spoke. He nodded, scratching his chin while he thought of an answer.

"Very well, I haven't expected such a detailed answer based on just a few pictures, but colour me impressed Doctor Reed. Such a detailed observation with so little to go with... Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised, you have proven yourself enough with your work... However, I have to disagree with you on one thing... This... animal... has been seen before, only a couple of times but the point still stands."

"What accounts are there? How many of them?" Reed asked without a second thought, her mind craving another piece of information about the mysterious blob. John however just smiled coyly, his posture relaxing against the office chair.

"I am afraid it's classified. I will be quite frank with you Doctor Reed, my superiors wouldn't like that I have shared those pictures with you, but I suppose the ends justify the means..."

It was as if a light switch just turned on in Reed's brain. All of this talk... He was trying to lure her into the project and she wouldn't let him. She'd promised herself she would retire, put it all behind her and focus on healing, growth... Reed chuckled humourlessly, staring daggers at the smug man behind the screen.

"Very clever Doctor Cannan, but I don't think I will take the bait... It's been nice, but I must warn you that-"

"I am already happily employed at Salthill Institute..." John interrupted, finishing the sentence for her. He gave her a look of doubt, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I apologise, but I don't think that's true..."

"That's rather rude..." Reed muttered, putting her defences up.

"I am sorry Mr Cannan, but you do not know me..."

"Yes, we do not know each other personally, however..." his eyes were boring holes in her skull.

"I have been to a number of your lectures before, just out of pure curiosity. You are a phenomenal scientist, a great mind in a sea of mediocre scientists like Doctor Bell and it's not hard to see it. Your lectures were inspiring and interesting, a feast for those seeking knowledge and in the past few minutes I had seen a glimpse of that scientist, exactly when we discussed the anomaly. You don't seem nearly as passionate when talking about Salthill... But again I could be wrong..."

She is passionate.

Very much so.

That was not true.

It was not.

"That's emotional manipulation, Doctor Cannan. I don't take kindly to strangers psychoanalysing me..."

John laughed, readjusting himself at the chair as if Reed didn't just point out his attempt to coerce her into joining.

"Doctor Reed, I thought it was obvious, but I am very determined to have you participate. There are very few people with your skillset. A deep-sea scientist with three specialisations? I apologise for being so forward but you are perfect... "

Reed's brows furrowed at his comment. John Cannan was a persistent man, who knew what to say and when to say it...

"Flattery won't get you far... I assume you are aware that I am retired since your company did a background check on me..."

"I am aware you have decided to leave the big leagues, rightfully so... I must say, I have always resented Oxford or public institutions in general. They always seemed a bit artificial to me... Environment for the money-hungry simpletons."

"Quite bold of an American to insult one of Britain's most famous Universities..." Reed couldn't help but find some humour in his words. As a student, she was enamoured with the classes and the unrestricted access to knowledge, but the second she stepped into the scientific society Bell spoke so highly of, she knew she dipped into shark-infested waters. She was a young Irish woman, coming from an average middle-class family stepping into the world of rich and old, an environment dominated by spoiled brats with too much money and a bunch of elderly men believing a woman's place was at the secretary's desk. She'd heard inappropriate comments, been harassed or accused of performing sexual acts on Bell. She'd been asked to step down, allowing "more suitable" candidates to take over or present her findings... and finally, when she had to do that again with the discovery of her life she snapped...

"Well, as a graduate of said University, I believe I can say whatever I want about it..." He answered coyly.

"You have studied in Oxford?"

"Yes, I have... That's how I found out about you. I was able to get some information regarding your career and area of expertise, as well as where you retired to..."

That was impossible. Reed had never contacted the University about where she had gone, but successfully avoided their emails and calls, even changing her phone number. She just wanted to disappear off the face of the earth, leave the dreaded past behind her and start out fresh, without all of that baggage she'd been dragging around Oxford.

Crazy Bitch...

She is Psychotic...

I swear people like her should be put down...

"I am sorry, but that is impossible. I do not appreciate being stalked by an unknown company, digging through my personal information..."

"I am afraid your information is still public on one of the Oxford websites, not to mention the Salthill. I am afraid Doctor Bell has been keeping tabs on you without your knowledge. I was not aware you disapproved of them being there..." John admitted, leaning forward towards the camera.

The uneasy feeling clung to the column of Reed's spine as she listened to the words. The sudden realisation that the institutions so carelessly left out her contact info was worrying. The whole meeting was putting her on edge, the strange man seemingly knew some intimate details of her life, like her time at Oxford. She couldn't help but feel the defensive response rising in her chest. People were stalking her, contacting her on a whim like that. She's been in Salthill for eight years... Eight years without so much as a peep from any "serious" Institutes... Why now? As much as the whole ordeal tickled her ego, being suddenly a desired member of possible research, it just didn't make sense... Surely there would have been somebody to fill that place in? So why was Cannan so hell-bent on convincing her?

"That shouldn't matter. I believe I have made myself clear that I do not wish to be recruited by your company or any other. I have been retired for almost a decade now... I really do not know why all of you suddenly decided to contact me because there is a black blob in the Atlantic." She spat out, her green eyes avoiding John's steady gaze. It was frustrating, to be forgotten and discarded by everybody, only to be remembered when needed.

John's friendly demeanour melted off, revealing a more serious side of the man. There was silence between them, Cannan watching Reed while he thought, biting the inside of his cheek while the cogs in his head turned. Finally, he opened his mouth, his tone more sincere.

"I will be honest with you Rowan... My intentions might not have been as pure as I would like you to believe. I... I happen to also share some history with Doctor Bell. We have never seen eye to eye on many things, so our relationship is less than amicable... Unfortunately, it has come to my attention that Oxford has also been researching our discovery. I used to know Bell very well and I knew that he would be desperate to bring you into this..."

"So this is just some childish feud? You think the matter of my work is just some game?"

"No, absolutely no... I see you as an extraordinary scientist, a champion who will help my team dominate the research before Oxford takes it over... Although I do find it satisfying to steal Bell's prodigy right from under his nose, it is merely a bonus. I need you in this research..."

John's eyes sparkled as he spoke.

"This... This could be revolutionary... I do not wish to use you... I want you to be my partner in crime..."

"And how is that? So far, all I have heard is that I am to be used as a pawn against Bell. Why would you even think I would go against my old friend?"

"Because I know he used your research. Believe it or not, I have worked with Bell for four years if not more. I know how it feels to be used, be praised only to be discarded... I know about Marcus Dean and how Bell let him take your work, denying your accusations. Bell allowed his colleagues to drag you through the mud, and now he wants your help... Ms Reed, I might not be unbiased. I will not pretend that I don't have an agenda. I believe our interests align and we would be able to form a partnership..." He started, his tone dropping any remains of banter.

"I need an experienced scientist who can lead a small research team in a high-profile project, moreover somebody who has extensive knowledge of the deep, especially microorganisms. And you?"

"A biologist responsible for creating theories, reforming how we think about the deep sea, with at least a few discovered species behind her belt, forced into hiding due to tarnished reputation. We have both been wronged by Bell and Oxford. You help me win this race with Oxford, I help restore your reputation and put you back in the Deep Sea research scene."

"And what makes you think I would work for somebody after the Markus Dean situation?"

John smiled.

"You won't be working for GOI. Gateway is a facilitator, a private institute supported by influential people. It's more of a sponsor for research and testing. I don't want you to work for us, but rather with us... No more working for a public institution, no more arguing over credit. Everything goes to you, unlike in Oxford..."

Reed wasn't sure how to reply.

Back in the scene...

"Ms Reed, I know it's a decision that should not be taken on a whim. Unfortunately, I can't stay any longer in the meeting, however, I would like to send you an email with a potential contract, so you could look closer at what the partnership would look like. Feel free to take some time to process our offer, but I must warn you, that I will need your final decision by the end of next week, so I can schedule a pick-up if you agree after all. Would these conditions suit you?"

"Yes..." Reed muttered, still stunned by the sheer amount of information she'd received in a span of an hour. Their meeting had quickly gone way more personal than she would have liked, rendering Reed speechless, her mind too preoccupied with the multitude of thoughts buzzing in her head like a hive of angry wasps.

John nodded, bidding his goodbyes before her screen went black, now only Reed's ghostly features reflecting off of the plastic surface. Mere seconds later, the screen lit up again, a single email message popping in her mailbox.

Click...

Dear Doctor Reed

I am sharing with you the potential contract for the GOI partnership. I request you answer us by the 20th of March at the latest.

PS. I have also taken the liberty of attaching the link with the contact information we found at the Oxford sites since I have gotten the impression that they were not consensual.

Link.

Best Regards

J. D. Cannan

Reed pressed on the link, too scared to open the attached document. She could take care of the Oxford issue... It felt manageable. It didn't feel like a commitment, like starting something new and dangerous.

The site of Oxford opened almost immediately, revealing a small blue bracket. They still had her old picture up, the longhaired woman, ten years younger and with a face full of makeup, something Reed hadn't done in years. The contact info was almost completely filled, except for her new phone number... Everything else, her email, birthday, and working address was neatly filled in and up to date. She scrolled down, revealing the small pale letters at the bottom of the site.

Authorised by Matthew Bell

It felt like her heart was about to burst as she read the line below the text.

Data provided on behalf of R. A. Reed, by Muriel Doyle- Salthill Institute

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*UUV- Unmanned Underwater Vehicle

*Tunicate- Marine invertebrate animal