Deeper Bloom- Chapter One
Her name was Deeper Bloom. In 2005, when she was young, she was my student. One of her first college classes. She was bright. Very bright. I watched her enter my 30-seat, adjunct classroom. And goddamn did time stop. It wasn't just her beauty, it was the way she carried herself. Her soft, caramel skin was glowing and the pale blue streak in her raven hair was running along and framing her face.
I had asked the class to go around and say their names. I remember being victim to the lazily dressed depression of my post-divorce early-30s. My dirty blonde beard was matted and uncombed, probably containing the grease or crumbs of this morning's fast-food breakfast. My mauve sweater vest hung off me, stained over a pale green button down. My brown pants nicely hid their unwashedness. I was in no state to meet the love of my life that day. But. Fuck it. Shit happens.
The line of speaking students grew shorter and shorter, and, when It was her turn, she hesitated.
“My grandfather was a Marine Biologist,” she began, trying desperately to cover up her Indian accent. She giggled and stopped trying to hide it, “My name is Deeper Bloom.”
The room fell silent. At least it did in my head. Did she just say, “Bloom”? Like. Mohesh Nemo Bloom PhD? The man who took Darwinism to a new level. He was the Tesla to Cousteau’s Edison. He was Tolkien to C.S. Lewis. But he was greedy. The thorough Nuclear Testing in Bikini Atoll and its surrounding waters had made the research facilities a hotbed for both radiation and political espionage. When the Scientists, Personnel, Soldiers, and few civilians allowed on base disappeared, including Mohesh, it was quickly covered up and is seen in certain circles as the last act of war post WW2.
Anyway, It was now months later. Deeper and I had been growing close on a professional and academic level. She was æons more intelligent than me. She let me know it, too. It was around the time she was concluding her thesis, wreckage and research samples began washing up on the shores of Bikini Atoll and Sandal Sole. ‘Course they contacted her and her father. Would be fuckin stupid not to. Nobody knew as much about Mohesh's research or marine Biology than Deeper and Verne Bloom. I tagged along on the first actual expedition, and later on Verne quit coming entirely and decided to just aid in donations, marketing, etc. This was nice cause Deeper was never comfortable being the face of the expeditions.
We discovered two ancient species of aquatic fungus that had insane potential. Cancer. Alzheimers. Regenerative Limbs. It's like the fuckin shamwow. It can do anything. Anyway, Verne got sick, and we wanted to expedite thw research. Ironically, liver cancer meant Verne did not survive long enough to see clinical trials. Now, with only part of the new expeditions funded, we searched through independent funding. Crowdsourcing failed so we went to some bigger companies and owner's like James Cameron and Ex-NASA employees. It's just then we got a letter from a military science division we had never heard of before, the Sandal Atoll Marine Biology Outpost. Or. SAM-BO. And their delivery boy was a greasy creep named Agent Garret “Gator” Drake. And he had good news for us.
