He glanced over at me, blue eyes narrowed not in anger, but confusion. “What does any of that have to do with your thesis?”
“I had a lot of time to myself, for a long time.” I still did, but that was neither here nor there. “I started with an interest in mythology. My parents had a huge library, and it was full of books about Egyptian gods and goddesses, the Olympians, Nordic gods. It was fascinating. Then there were the stories about the heroes—Hercules, Perseus. Odysseus. Have you heard of the term, ‘the hero’s journey?’ ”
Hector shook his head.
“It’s this theme. A hero, or heroine, goes on an adventure, there’s some kind of crisis—internal or external—and as a result, they’re changed. Usually for the better. Think of Star Wars. Luke Skywalker is this farmer on Tatooine, he meets Obi-Wan, the mentor who introduces him to the force. He learns how to be a Jedi. He faces a crisis when Darth Vader reveals himself to be his father, and later when the evil Emperor tries to force him to join the dark side. Finally, he comes full circle as a Jedi, and saves the world. I mean—it’s more complicated than that—but those are the highlights.”
Hector bit his lip and shook his head. “Your thesis was about Star Wars?”
I laughed, the sound surprising me. “No. I got off track. Usually I’m better at this. I just meant—I loved the stories. I loved the themes of man at the mercy of the gods. I loved how they fought against fate and tried to make their own. I took those stories and I started to wonder, what if there were parts—not all of them, of course, like turning a woman into a cow—but what if parts of them were real? I took that leap, because no one else cared to do it.”
“So your idea that there was truth in mythology nearly lost you your position at Harvard. Then you found the part of the seal, when no one else believed in you. And now your advisor, who thought everything you were doing was bullshit, found another piece of the seal.”
If it had been anyone else.Anyone.
“She tried to take credit for the first piece, and now she’s found the second one. If I don’t clear this up quickly, then everyone is going to believe her accusations were true. I could lose my position. My reputation. Everything.” I tried to quell the panic, but it was hard. “My thesis was pretty simple, and not even all that original. I stated that the evidence in Hisarlik, in Turkey, suggested the Trojan War was an actual war, and that through further excavation, we could possibly date the year the war took place.”
“It doesn’t sound like the sort of thing that should get you kicked out of Harvard.” Hector’s voice was so even and calm. I was ready to vibrate out of my seat I was so anxious, but his words, and the even, measured cadence of his voice soothed my nerves.
I sucked in a slow breath. “It shouldn’t. But some of the research I did was at odds with some accepted theories. I thought we should dig closer to the coast. Hisarlik is about fifty miles from the water. It’s not an easy traverse when carrying armor and food for thousands of soldiers. I even questioned whether evidence would be found in the sea, because of erosion and global warming. I don’t know why she fought me on everything.” I took another deep breath. “People don’t like me. I don’t know why. No matter how hard I try to be friendly, it doesn’t work. I watch what other people do. I try to do the same thing, but I guess I do it wrong.”
Quiet filled the car again. Hector pulled onto a main road, lined by tall grass. There was more traffic now, and soon homes and buildings came into sight. “You said that she tried to take credit for the first shard you found. How?”
“After I found the shard, and it was radiocarbon dated, she tried to take credit not only for my research, which she’d totally discounted up to that point, but my theory of why I found the shard where I found it. She also tried to prove that she’d funded the trip. The problem was, she’d been so vocal about how crappy a researcher I was, and had even complained to the rest of my thesis committee about my work, that she couldn’t back up her claims. It did a lot of damage to her reputation, and suddenly, I was Harvard’s golden girl. All the things she wanted, I got. Attention. Accolades. Awards. My thesis was published, and her name was second. It shouldn’t have even been on the paper, but she had been my advisor, so I had to put it on…” The more emotional I became, the more convoluted my thinking, and the more random shit came out of my mouth. I probably wasn’t making any sense.
Glancing at Hector to see if he was totally lost, I only saw him nodding. “You think she stole your research, because she tried to take credit for it the first time. But how would she do that?”
“I wasn’t careful enough. I talked about England in my lectures, because that’s where I thought it was, but I’ve been researching the Lighthouse at Alexandria. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” I really didn’t. There wasn’t anything he could do to help me. Not that I wanted anyone’s help.
“Out of everyone in the world, we’re probably the only ones who care about all this.Icare about this. How old was that shard you found?” Hector asked, but I already knew he knew how old it was.
“Radiocarbon dating had it coming in at two-hundred thousand years. Dawn of man.”
He stretched his neck from side to side, like he was tense. His calm voice belied what he was really feeling. The hand on the gearshift was tense, clenching and unclenching.
“I wish I could explain what draws me to a place, but it’s a feeling in my gut. Initially, I was going to start digging closer to Hisarlik, but as soon as I landed in Turkey and began the drive, I knew I was wrong. I had the map on my lap, studying the land, and I knew it had to be closer. To the water, I mean. I just kept thinking about the stories about when the ships landed.
And someday one will say, one of the men to come
steering his oar-swept ship across the wine-dark sea
‘there’s the mound of a man who died in the old days,
one of the brave whom glorious Hector killed.’
So they will say, someday, and my fame will never die,”
I quotedThe Iliad, the Greek poet Homer’s epic about the Trojan war. “I thought over and over about that line,oar-swept ship, and that whoever landed on the coast of Troy wouldn’t have far to go before he found the grave he searched for. It had to be closer. I made the entire team park, and wait for me to calculate the rate of erosion, and sea level rise. I triangulated the distance from Hisarlik, and I almost cried because I thought it had to be under water. I was prepared to dig, but if it was under water? That took more money than I had. I walked around for a while, and suddenly, I know it sounds insane, but I just knew where it was. We got in the car, drove closer and closer until we had to walk, and I was knee deep in sand.”
I could picture the spot. The ocean was so loud, crashing against the rocks. There was a tiny slip of beach, not like the beautiful spots where the tourists gathered. Just a strip of sand, big enough to land a kayak. I climbed down to it, craned my neck to stare at the rock wall, eroded by the water. When the tide came in, the beach would disappear.Here.Something in my mind whispered it. I had closed my eyes, and imagined the sound of the oars, slapping against the waves. The voices of men as they dragged the ships onto the beach. There would have been so much more of it, and I could see it all. I could even hear the clang of metal as weapons were collected.
Hector didn’t say a word for so long, I was afraid I’d done something wrong. I’d talked his ear off, and given him way more information than he’d asked for.
“Sorry. I babble.”
Shifting in his seat, he dragged his hand down his face and let out a sigh that seemed to come from his soul. “It wasn’t that. It was what you said.And my fame will never die.”
“The story of Hector is one of the most tragic of the war.”