"So, what can we conclude from our study of Plato's writing's Timaeus and Critias?" I look around at the students in my lecture hall. Some are studiously taking notes, some look bored out of their minds, and then there's one who looks so confused, I could laugh out loud.
"I thought this was a history class? Why are we studying philosophy?" Tyler Crowley has been surprisingly scraping by in all of my classes for the last year. He's smart, but he doesn't seem that interested in the subject matter.
"Sometimes, philosophy tells us more about ancient cultures than history texts. In this context, what are these two writings telling us?"
"Plato is talking about the mythical city of Atlantis. He uses it as an allegory to explain his teachings and opinions on how a society should be run." Angela Webber, ever the insufferable know-it-all, has a point. Just not the one I'm looking for.
"That's good, Angela. But why are you so sure that it's mythical? No one has ever conclusively proven that Atlantis never existed. Plato himself seems very clear that this island is real. Why should we think otherwise?" Leaning against my desk, I look out to those faces again. I can see the thoughts tumbling over in their brains and a few seem to be figuring out how to word their response.
"There have been discoveries over the years that point to the idea that Atlantis or at least some other hidden island once existed. The underwater pyramid discovered in the Azores. Central Spain had the discovery by radar and digital mapping to search marshlands and found what they believe to be a sunken city."
"Yeah, but those could be anything or nothing. There is nothing to say conclusively that they link to Atlantis," Angela looks smug. I can't blame her.
"Explain orichalcum to me." I wait for a few beats and when no one speaks up, I fill them in. "Orichalcum is first mentioned in the 7th century BC by Hesiod, and in the Homeric hymn dedicated to Aphrodite, dated to the 630s.
According to the Critias of Plato, the three outer walls of the Temple to Poseidon and Cleito on Atlantis were clad respectively with brass, tin, and the third outer wall, which encompassed the whole citadel, "flashed with the red light of orichalcum"."
"So?"
"So … In 2015, 39 ingots believed to be orichalcum were discovered in a sunken vessel on the coasts of Gela in Sicily which have tentatively been dated at 2,600 years old. Where did it come from, if not a lost island, inhabited by a far superior humanoid species?"
I see the door at the top of the lecture hall open and my colleague, Jasper, walks in and takes a seat in the very back row.
"Maybe that's enough for today. Be sure to brush up on the rest of Plato's writing for our class next week. I'll be in my office for hours tomorrow."
I watch my students file out and once the room is empty, save for myself and Jasper, I finally climb up onto my desk and sit down. Jasper never comes to visit me. We're friendly, but we're not friends.
"What's up, Doc?" He's nothing if not a cut-up. He's used the same joke on me and every other Ph.D. at the university since he started. Mind you, he's also a doctor, but whatever. He thinks he's hilarious.
"What can I do for you, Jasper? Need someone to cover office hours for you again? I already told you, I don't babysit undergrads."
He chuckles as he stands and takes the steps down to meet me on the floor, " I was sent to tell you that there is a suspicious package waiting for you."
"Suspicious package? What does that mean?"
"It means you need to get off your ass and get down to the dean's office before he calls the cops."
By the time I pack up and hightail to administration I'm a sweaty mess and out of breath. The dean's secretary lets me into his office when I enter, trying to apologize for the time it took for me to get there, Dean Brody cuts me off.
"You know, I give a lot of leeway here … especially with you."
"I would agree, Dean. I got here as quickly as I could. I-"
"And while I appreciate the contributions you have made to your department and this university, I would welcome some kind of future indication that you would be receiving mail here from an unknown sender." He leans back in his desk chair, fingers steepled under his chin and that's when I get it.
"You're giving me shit, aren't you?" He smiles and I plop down in one of the leather guest chairs opposite his desk. "Jesus, Marc, way to make me panic."
"My assistant was giving me a hard time about signing for it and blah blah blah, so I figured I'd play along. You know I have nothing else to do," he gestures at his desk with piles of papers everywhere.
"Of course not. Free as a bird. Now gimmie." I reach out my hand and he tosses the padded envelope to me. The weight is off balance and that tells me that something small is inside.
"So," he draws out the sound. "Who's it from?"
Looking at the postage, all I see is London, "I dunno." Ripping open the package, I reach blindly inside to find a note, but all I pull out is a small USB drive.
"Is that a flash drive?" I nod in response to his question. "Who in London would send you a flash drive?"
"No idea, but I hope there's something good on it." I turn the USB drive over in my hand, looking for some markings or a note, but there's nothing.
"You know there's no sender name on there." Marcus reminds me and my gaze drops back to the envelope in my lap.
"Well, you know I love a good mystery."
Later at home, I pull out my dummy laptop, disconnect it from my WiFi, and plug in the USB. What opens before me is something I never imagined I'd see.
It's obviously photocopied pages that start at forty-seven in a small bound book. I start scanning the words and when I see Plato, Critias, and '…depths of the sea…' I know exactly what I'm looking at. This appears to be someone's Atlantis diary or journal.
It seems impossible to imagine that through the millennia, no one has yet to truly discover the secret of the lost city. Is it the government that prevents it? Is it pride or greed? What is stopping the world from knowing the truth?
I've done the research and created the map … it is, I believe, the truest map there is the location of Atlantis. Whether it still stands or not is to be determined …
I scroll through the pages but there is no map to be found. My life's work has been spent searching for any clue to the lost city, to Atlantis. What I see in these pages are things I already know and things I always suspected.
When I get towards the end of the document and still no map, I'm feeling so discouraged. Until I see it.
I've seen it before on cave paintings and written on scrolls. It's a mix of Linear A and Linear B; the former being used by the Minoans and the Mycenaeans used the latter. It's an amalgamation that people have deciphered over the years, but there have only been records of single words or phrases.
I sit back and take a moment to take this all in.
It looks like I have entire paragraphs.
Or maybe even a map.
