Discovery of the Machine

The early summer day in 1900 on the Sea of Crete had been alternately friendly and fitful. The waters had been choppy at times, then placid at others. The Sun peeked out from behind cumuli, on and off, casting bright warmth on the crew tending their equipment on the deck of the tirhandil, gently rocking to and fro in the waters off the Grecian coast. They had come from the port of Kalymnos in search of sponge. They numbered seven, just enough for the 24-foot boat of ancient Phoenician design, they studiously maintained the scaphandros, the suits that allowed the divers to stay deeper and longer underwater. They routinely dove to 150 feet or more as they dared, and with the dive charts available as a guide, they pushed their endurance to the limit. Recompressing was recommended at a rate of three feet per minute, but some of the more adventurous pushed their luck, sometimes with serious injury.

Captain Kouloris was a tall, wiry man. He had lived through the old ways of sponge diving. Adept at held-breath diving, he had been skeptical at the utility of the early dive suits. Eventually, he had to accept the advanced technology, for it meant more profit and refusal to use it would have left his generation of divers behind. He had been working through the platika system, and the requirement of meeting quota of sponge meant pushing his ship and crew further and further. The day had been good to them, each of the crew having made several dives already without incident. They kept to a westerly course, passing several miles north of Crete. The afternoon was wearing on, and the captain was looking for a last opportunity for a late dive before putting into port at Lefki. On the horizon, a dark point appeared, and eventually was identified as a bit of land in the distance. Kouloris knew what it was: The island of Aigilia. He was not very familiar with the coast of the barely occupied island, but surmised this may be an opportunity for a quick dive. He ordered the helmsman to steer for the eastern side of the island, and soon they had full view of the rugged coastline. Crew promptly prepared the scaphandros for a dive, and a younger diver named Dimetrio volunteered to step overboard.

Several minutes of donning the dive suit ensued, eventually Dimetrio being secured, the helmet was bolted into place and the air pump started. He gave the 'okay' sign that he was receiving air and was led to the side of the boat. One last check of his suit and Dimetrio slid over the side and dropped immediately into the warm water. Another crew member fed the air hose as he sank further and further into the darkness below the boat. The captain expected him to settle at about 150 feet, and soon a bit of slack in the air hose was felt. Another crew member loosely held a signal line, awaiting any indication from his crew mate.

Minutes passed achingly slow with no apparent activity, when suddenly a harsh jerk on the signal line indicated an immediate surfacing was required. This was a dangerous maneuver, as the diver's blood vessels could fill with nitrogen and cause physical pain, or worse. The two crew members smoothly pulled their respective lines, especially the signal line. Within minutes, Dimetrio surfaced, his arms flailing wildly. Everyone jumped into action to remove his suit.

He could be heard even within his helmet, his excited, frightened voice exclaiming, “Ypárchei éna brátso! Ypárchei éna brátso!” The others looked at him in astonishment, for he claimed to have seen an arm at the bottom! The captain himself came over to confront the animated form of the young diver. The boy waved toward the water as he spoke feverishly about finding a human arm down below. The captain feared the boy was experiencing hallucinations due to decompression sickness, but had no facility to help him properly. He ordered the scaphandros removed so that he himself could investigate.

When he was properly secured and with the air pump restarted, the captain waved curtly and jumped over the side, disappearing into the water. Again, most of the crew waited while Dimetrios was tended to and the linemen monitored the captain's progress. Several minutes passed, and soon a double tug on the signal line told them the captain was returning to the surface at a normal rate. Anxious glances passed back and forth during the interminable moments until the helmet's crown broke the surface and an arm reached out of the water. Yes, Dimetrio had indeed found a human arm at the bottom, and here it was! A human arm, disembodied, made of marble, was brought up by the captain. The signal lineman took the arm, setting it on the deck as others clambered to help the captain on board. Once his helmet was removed, his face held a broad smile and he seemed as excited as Dimetrio was scared. He spread his arms and told his crew the good news: “Vríkame thisavró fíloi mou” We have found treasure, my friends...

*

The Royal Navy ship Marathon was anchored a few hundred yards from the buoy marking the salvage site off the east coast of Aigilia, while the sponge divers' boat rocked gently in the warm waters near the rocky shore. The work had been slow and methodical, and the long days had been wearing on the crew and captain alike. They had been diving constantly, bringing up what a single man or a duo could carry in their arms. Some of the items weighed way past what the men could handle, so the Navy engineers had been ruminating on ways to raise those items too heavy, large or unwieldy to pull manually. Soon, they decided to use block and tackle as could be to bring up weightier objects.

The Marathon's captain was called to the main deck after a particularly trying day of salvage. Waiting for him was Captain Kouloris, looking ragged and worn to a frazzle. He told the ship's captain that while he and his crew were grateful to have gained the contract to salvage the shipwreck, he was frustrated that they did not seem to be making progress, and he had a suggestion to make. He had heard there was a machine that was designed to produce a vacuuming effect. It had a large diameter hose that could suck up any material with which it came into contact. The navy ship's captain was intrigued by this and suggested Kouloris pursue receiving permission to obtain the device.

*

It was nearly the end of the 1901 season for salvage off the coast of Aigilia, and the Marathon had been moored as close to the action as was advised, a large diameter pipe was draped over its port side and propped at an angle by a hastily erected crane and stout hemp rope tied to the pipe's midsection. The sound of a petrol-fueled pump chugged loudly on deck, causing the pipe to vibrate visibly at the rail, while the end that disappeared into the water wavered with every lapping of the water. Close to that was the tirhandil captained by Kouloris, his crew in constant rotation to minimize the chances of injury or worse. Kouloris himself had to remain onboard to supervise the operation, having injured himself on an underwater crag of rock that severely slashed his leg. The doctors were provided by the Hellenic government, and had miraculously saved his leg from amputation. He had in fact been forbidden by the physicians to even be on site, but Kouloris ignored their orders and boarded his ship anyways.

The signalman on the Marathon kept Kouloris informed as to progress throughout the operation by use of semaphore. Kouloris would then signal back an acknowledgment of the message. Since the installation of the mechanical vacuum pump aboard the Marathon, the more tedious work of retrieving of small to medium sized articles from the wreckage was improved a hundredfold. The divers' tasks by this time was mainly to identify articles still at the bottom then guide the nozzle to those locations to vacuum up what they had found. The machine was unusually powerful for its time, and the divers had to use poles to distance themselves from the nozzle, lest they themselves get caught and swept up into the hose. Once they had settled into a pace, the work went more smoothly and quickly, and the progress being made pleased not only Kouloris and his crew but also the Royal Navy and the Archaeology Museum's directors and the Hellenic government officials. Many interesting and indeed amazing items had been brought up by their operation: Marble and bronze statues, pottery, amphorae, glassware, jewelry, evidence of grain (thought to be the means of packing the former into the ship's hold) and unidentifiable bits of brass. Later, those who were tasked with sorting the spoils found a few bones that were eventually determined to be human, possibly a crew member or a passenger on the ship. But, it was a number of odd brass parts, severely corroded by the waters of the Mediterranean that elevated the shipwreck's discovery into a major scientific breakthrough. There were toothed gears in an unusual arrangement on multiple plates, unknown in that part of the world and not known to exist in any similar arrangement for another thousand years. Other smaller pieces of what was presumed to be part of the same item were salvaged and brought together in the archives of the Archaeology Museum. The researchers were dumbfounded by this find, but eventually had to admit that this discovery was tantamount to a radical change in Greek history. It was July of 1902 when a group of archaeologists determined that the crew of sponge divers may have found an ancient astrolabe.

*

The dimly lit den was filled with bookshelves, brimming with objects of ancient and antique origins. The ornate desk was large, old and expensive. The man sitting at the desk was partly in shadow, his gaze intent on an old tome propped in his lap, slowly turning the pages as he carefully and thoughtfully read the text found there. The room was quiet, except for the occasional creak of old floorboards and the distant screech of an owl outside the leaded glass window behind the man. He stopped, lifted his head, as if in anticipation, and a moment later a single knock on the massive door at other end of the room was heard. He uttered a word in an ancient tongue thought to have been extinct, and the door slowly creaked open. An acolyte dressed in canvas robes entered the room, his head lowered in respect to the man behind the desk. He moved slowly and smoothly along the carpeted room until he stood before his better.

“Sir, I have some distressing information to report,” the acolyte said.

The seated man looked up and nodded. “Proceed.”

“A sponge diving crew off the east coast of the island of Aigilia have found wreckage of a cargo ship. It is believed to be from the elder days, maybe even the Asimo. The Greek Royal Navy has been dispatched to the site and the Archaeology Museum has been notified.”

“Have they recovered the machine?”

“Unknown, sir. The only indication I have to report is the sponge divers recovered parts of bronze statues, but reportedly have seen much more at the bottom of the sea.”

The seated man sighed heavily. He did not expect a discovery of this kind to occur within his lifetime. He had been taught, just as his predecessors for centuries, that the machine was believed lost forever. He was also taught to not take anything for granted. It was incumbent upon him to keep a close but quiet eye on the developments of the discovery of this shipwreck. The acolyte stood, a bit fidgety as his master contemplated his report. Eventually, he harrumphed to get his master's attention. The man behind the desk looked up.

“Ah yes, this does seem troubling, does it not? Do not fear what cannot be controlled. We have eyes and ears everywhere, you know this. I will compose a dispatch for you to deliver personally to our contact in Athens. Be sure to dress appropriately, and you will draw funds for your passage and sundries.”

The acolyte nodded and withdrew from the room. The man behind the desk closed the book, stood up and placed it gently back into a wooden perch in the corner of the room. A strip of light washed across its leather-bound cover. It was covered in gold leafed scroll work terminating in small leaves, and the title reading “Biblia Sacra Latina”. The man thought that it was enough light reading for the night and sat back down to compose a letter. In the back of his mind he knew that, although the world had no idea of it, that this was the beginning of the new phase of his master's battle for control of history.