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Isaiah Jones vs the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey) Chapter 10.69: Katabasis: The Epic Descent into the Underworld** 

Isaiah Jones versus the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey) chapter 10.69 “Katabasis: The Epic Descent into the Underworld**”  

Isaiah Jones Versus the Sea 

Chapter 10.69: Katabasis: The Epic Descent into the Underworld** 

May 5th 2029 international waters aboard the SS Exodus 

Three Days Out from Galveston 

Katabasis: The Epic Descent into the Underworld** 

Motherhood: “I Am…” 

Isaiah, Aeon, and Penny sailed across the Gulf of Mexico, towards the Yucatan Peninsula the Exodus black hull gliding through the murky waters of the gulf. He peaked at the weather on the radar screen mounted in the cockpit once more before setting the autopilot and stepping away from the helm to make his way below deck to the charts table in the 44-foot sloops’ comfortable main cabin. The chocolate lab puppy followed Isaiah, his heavy rudder of a tail wagging madly as he panted staring up at Isaiah as if waiting for orders. Isaiah released the latch and raised the hinged top to retrieve his well-worn maps and charts. After closing the flatscreen top, he spread the maps out on top of the table. He let callused fingers gently trace over the NOAA and Mercer charts spread out on the charts table, intensely studying the intricate lines and symbols avatars for the Gulf of Mexico’s winds and currents. 

“Mother, give me your current and wind charts,” He reviewed the detailed chart on the flatscreen built into the surface of the charts table and compared it to his paper charts a well-worn bedraggled old document that had hung on his bedroom wall as a child when all of this was still a distant dream. They had guided him through three circumnavigations over the last seven years 2 through the canals of Suez and Panama the final voyage he finally braved the brutal weathers of the cape and the horn as he rounded the southern tip of South Africa and South America. 

No one said it out loud but it was understood in the sailing community that you weren’t respected as a circumnavigator unless you braved the bow-breaking waves of the horn and the cape. It was like taking the training wheels off of your bike when you were a little kid, it was a magical experience. If you survived. He only got rolled over twice. Aeon, busy preparing dinner in the galley, couldn’t help but overhear him. She glanced over a warm smile on her face. “Isaiah, your conversations with that AI you named ‘Mother’ are creepy. I’m your girlfriend, and I would be remiss if I did not point these things out to you, you weirdo.” she grinned. 

Isaiah sat at the charts table chuckling; his eyes still fixed on the maps as he input the coordinates he had obtained with his compass, sextant, and chronometer to calculate their longitude and latitude. He liked to test his calculations against the ship’s navigational software, which had its own automated system independent of the Exodus navigational software, like the analog hydrovane that operated separately from the autopilot or the ship’s guidance and navigation systems. “She’s been my only company for the last seven years. You do realize that just because she’s a silicon-based life form, she’s very much alive in the net.” 

“That right there, that’s exactly what I’m talking about—creepy dude. It’s not like I can say anything to hurt its feelings; it’s software, just code.”  

Penelope, snickering behind her camera the whole time, panned her lens over the crew: Mau Mau, Aeon, herself, and their fearless leader, Izzy. She noticed Isaiah’s discomfort at Aeon’s nickname and shifted the camera’s focus to Mau Mau, who sat beside Isaiah as if he could actually help plot their course. 

“Isaiah,” Penelope began, her voice curious and professional, “could you tell us a bit about our preparations? What’s going through your mind as you plot our course?” Isaiah glanced up from the charts, his expression thoughtful. “I’m looking at the collision of high and low pressure fronts monitoring wind speed and direction, checking for variations in the patterns that might affect our route. It’s a moving 3D puzzle we solve, making sure we have the safest voyage possible.  

We want to stay just this side of that high-pressure system you see there coming in from the north, he says pointing to the swirling on the doppler image, but not so far out that we lose her wind. We sort of ride the edge of fronts. Dead air is the worst. Nobody buys a sailboat to motor. Being becalmed is just the absolute worst, even with our hybrid system. I just hate using the prop. I usually try to get in and out of the slip using the sails to practice docking without a motor or lateral bow thrusters. 

“Penelope nodded, her camera capturing his words and expressions. “And what about celestial navigation? That’s something you don’t see every day.” Isaiah’s eyes flashed with a hint of mischief. He looked even more like his father and grandfather now; it wasn’t just the new beard, but he had filled out. He was never underweight, but he had been skinnier back then; now he was all stacked out and shredded, life at sea had kept him fit. She was sorry to hear about Starbuck; he had just rescued her the last time she saw the puppy. “Just a minute.” she said as she fumbled around in her bag for her e-stick. She took a few puffs, sat back, and began., 

“Ah, maritime/marine archeology, Isaiah continued, it’s what got me the grant that financed my first trip sailing to Africa.” “It was fortunate that your passions for sailing and your lifelong study of the history of the routes of the slave trade aligned with the funding.” Isaiah chuckled. “That may be true, but it is also true that massive amounts of grant money go unclaimed each year. The key is writing your grant proposal and knowing who the people are who finance those grants. In my case, I first submitted the proposal when I was eight. I then continued to send it to schools and foundations around the globe for the next 8 years with the idea that I would sail the route of the slave ships in reverse and document my travels with letters, drawings, and paintings. Its’s the sort of thing that appeals to the type of people that still have a landline and an AOL email address.” 

He mused as Penelope and Aeon chuckled off camera. From the beginning, I guess I should have known something was off when I ran the ship onto a sandbar before I had even gotten out of the harbor. So, I spent the first night sitting around waiting for the tide to float me off the sandbar.” Penny and Aeon were in hysterics, laughing. Mau Mau trotted by, then plopped down on the deck beside him. Penny regained her composure enough to continue the interview, still wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Sorry, Isaiah, I just can’t imagine you of all people grounding your ship on your first night out. They all laughed while Aeon continued prepping dinner. “Where was I?” Penny asked, still in a bout of the giggles. 

“Maritime Contemporary Explorations of the Transatlantic Slave Routes using Analog Instrumentation and Documentation in 21st Century Marine Archeology,” he reminded her. “So, that got you to Africa how?” Aeon piped in from the galley. “I bet when they read that title page their granny panties got moist.” Penney looked at Isaiah before she burst out laughing. “It was good PR for whoever supported the grant. Lots of wealthy people sail, so I posted my idea on the sailing websites as well, and ingot behind the idea of me soloing as soon as I was at least sixteen, the age my parents agreed on. I ended up with financing from numerous businesses and schools. 

This is obviously not the boat I was originally going to sail to Africa that was—a 36-ft catamaran. I inherited this ship from the guy who sponsored the majority my trip, the CEO of MYC my old friend Beaumont Jackson.” “Well,” she said, “since we’re talking about Monarch Yacht Company, how do you feel about finally being vindicated by the Supreme Court after the US seized your corporation and accused you of being a terrorist?” “Well, I knew we were going to have to talk about this. It’s been six years since they robbed me, but that is their modus operandi.” Penny continued, “Do you feel vindicated having the court throw your case out as meritless?” 

“I have nothing but contempt for the court. They are all puppets owned by corporations and full of billionaires. We have one person, one vote—no bullshit electoral college. Whoever gets the most votes wins, period. And judges and justices do not have lifetime appointments; any fool can see that is a stupid idea.” “Okay, back to navigation methods. You have all of the latest software and electronic guidance and GPS; why even bother with this old-fashioned stuff?” 

“The machine will break down; my mind will always know how to do it the old way. We use tools like the sextant to measure the angles between celestial objects and the horizon. From there, we can pinpoint our position on Earth.” As Isaiah continued to explain, Aeon finished preparing dinner. The ship’s routines were starting to feel right; she was getting into the groove of life at sea. Aeon’s culinary skills had evolved to chef level since Isaiah had last seen her. Penny inhaled deeply, taking in the aroma of tonight’s dinner as the cabin filled with the exotic smells, while Penelope documented their journey. 

“You get this view every day?” Aeon asked. As they watched the sunset, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, joining her in his favorite place on the ship—the bow. He loved the bounce, the spray, the wind; he felt like he was the tip of the spear. “Izzy, back when you first went to Africa, did your parents know what you were going to do?” “Nope, there’s an old saying: three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. He grinned solemnly. I told no one.” As the sun disappeared below the horizon, Isaiah set the autopilot to hold their course while he and Aeon joined Penny for dinner. 

“Tell me about this crossing,” Aeon asked. Isaiah replied, “we’re leaving the Gulf of Mexico and head into the Caribbean. We’ll sail through the Yucatán Channel, from there, it’s a straight shot to the Western Caribbean then southwest to the Panama Canal. The challenge is in navigating the currents and avoiding storm systems that pop up. This isn’t the ideal time of year for this run but we are not pressed for time to get to LA.” “Who are these people who are doing the refit?” “The owners of Wave Maiden Nautical Int. Harold and Athena Chung are old friends we met on my first sail coming up through the Mediterranean after passing through the Suez. I prefer sailing around the tip of South Africa to traveling through the canal.” He grinned boyish even with the new scruff on his chin. 

Why what’s wrong with the Mediterranean? 

Nothing is wrong with it. I simply prefer to sail a little closer to the equator. I spent 9 months living on anchor exploring a chain of tiny less than a mile long uninhabited islands in the South Pacific near Palou. Once I waited 3 months in Djerba for a part to repair my water maker. Bounced from island to island living on anchor every where for Zanzibar Island to Koh Lipe, Thailand. Besides the 83 degree weather year round I like the pace of life of the cultures on the islands near the equator. Its slower more rural and like living on ship more in tune with the weather, the sea, and seasons. 

No ones ever in a hurry unless it’s life or death emergency. You can have an appointment, go ashore to get a document from an official and that will be your entire day. Izzy looked at Penny tilted his head to the right the way he did when he was sorting through memories shrugged with a nostalgic grin. You find a sea side cafe to hang out reading sipping expresso in shade beneath the slow spinning ceiling fans of the cafes, watch football games with cheering fans in thatched roof bars on the beach, eat calamari cooked in lime juice dipped in a sweet peanut sauce. You can meet new people or mind your own business while you wait. I’ve spent most of the last seven years wearing little more than a loincloth or butt naked living alone on hidden lagoons on anchor in the islands. 

Here people would freak out over a thing like that but away from all of this- i want it yesterday cybershopper culture- people are more relaxed and no one is trying to impress anyone or rush anything. Island time is like colored folk time with tropical drinks and perfect weather. They both burst out laughing. 

One of the most beautiful places was sailing around the Cape of Good Hope after docking in Struisbaai Harbour I hiked two miles west to South Point Guest Lodge, Cape Agulhas where the Indian and Atlantic oceans meet. These days I try to avoid the Suez Canal and that entire region it feels claustrophobic and stifling psychically. I never feel comfortable in those waters. I was shot at the last time I was in the Red Sea/ Arabian Sea area on my way to the Suez canal. 

Penny and Aeon looked on in shock he seemed to be no more concerned about it as he was the weather. It was just another day at sea he didn’t seem to think it was important enough to message her. At least he sent the daily coordinates we knew when he was sleeping and when he woke up each day. just seeing those numbers denoting his longitude and latitude appear in her iPhones instant message window kept her sane. She knew he was alive and on his boat even if he was half way around the world. What could she have done if he had told her other than worry needlessly and flunk out of school? 

Isaiah, Aeon, and Penny sailed across the Gulf of Mexico, towards the Yucatan Peninsula the Exodus black hull gliding through the murky waters of the gulf. He checked their speed only 10 knots with winds gusting up to 15 knots the weather on the radar screen mounted in the cockpit once more before setting the auto pilot and stepping away from the helm to make his way to the charts table in the 44′-foot sloops comfortable main cabin. He sat on the bench and the dog followed him his tail wagging madly as he panted staring at Isaiah as if waiting for orders. Isaiah raised the hinged top to retrieve his maps and charts. After he spread them out on top of the table. He let his fingers traced over the NOAA charts spread out on the charts table, intensely studying the intricate lines and symbol avatars for the Gulf of Mexico’s winds and currents. 

“Mother, give me your current and wind charts,” He reviewed the detailed chart on the flatscreen built into the surface of the charts table and compared it to his paper charts a well-worn bedraggled old document that had hung on his bedroom wall as a child when this was still a distant dream. it had guided him through three circumnavigations over the last seven years 2 through the canals of Suez and Panama the final voyage he finally braved the brutal weathers of Cape Horn as he rounded the southern tip of Chili South America. No one said it out loud but it was understood in the sailing community that you weren’t respected as a circumnavigator unless you braved the bow breaking waves of Cape Horn. It was like taking the training wheels off of your bike when you were a little kid, it was a magical experience. If you survive. Only got rolled over twice. It was like being baptized by God. 

When it was over he was changed there was no more of the old fears in him. He felt perfect clarity serene humble yet invincible at the same time. Penny laughed Aeon’s faced went blank. He had not mentioned his difficulty sailing the Cape Horn route before. A part of her could not help but wonder what else he had not told her about his travels. She feigned indifference as he kept herself busy preparing thier supper while he showed his old charts and maps to Pen explaining how he used mathematics to navigate. 

Penny was an A student in college but the things he studied just for fun made her brain bleed as she looked at the formulas.” Isaiah sat at the charts table chuckling; his eyes still fixed on the maps as he input the coordinates he had obtained with his compass, sextant, and chronometer to calculate their longitude and latitude. He liked to test his calculations against the ship’s navigational software, which had its own automated system independent of Exodus software, like the hydrovane that operated separately from the autopilot or the ship’s guidance and navigation systems. 

“Well, she’s been my only company for the last seven years. You do realize that just because she’s a silicon-based life form, she’s very much alive in the net.” She is not alive! Aeon shouted. “You need to understand what the thing you think of ai is and what I made are not the same thing. The thing they built that you all call AI was modeled on mimicking synapses in the brain as the model to synthesize its code in order to make a type of digital brain in a box.  

The code used during Mothers virtual incubation is the digital doppelganger of human DNA it evolved and achieved sentience in a completely different manor. Mother evolved in the primordial soup of the Precambrian internet she began as a single celled entity, organism, and evolved modeled on double helix DNA strands of code. She is no longer a piece of software to be commanded. Like any sentient creature you can make a request but whether or not she agrees to respond is her prerogative. There are no three impotent laws of robotics governing her evolution. She is a conciseness without a body, yet every bit as alive as you or I. She has free will. No one owns her. no one controls her. No one commands her. I did not make her a slave.” 

Jeezus! Izzy, what have you done!? Penny said horrified. The cabin grew suddenly chilled you could see your breathes condensation in the air suddenly a winters day mid summer. The pup Mau Mau yelps as he whines and takes shelter inside of his crate filled with safe smelling blankets. All of the ships systems go dark except the 3D mapping screen in the top of the charts table. There is only the sound of the waves against the hull out side, total stillness within. The light in the surface seemed to boil over, the table seemed to boil and burn simultaneously as a pair of delicate hands pressed up against a membrane of wet light from the other side. It tore through into our world as it writhed through the viscous light. it moved holding itself as if it had physical weight, resting its spectral hands palms down on the tables edge as it pulled itself up out of the digital void into the ships cabin. 

The translucent female form took shape and stood waist high over the mapping station pulsating kaleidoscopic hues of thick liquid colors the maps contour lines stretching across the surface a distorted tattoo. She shifted hues constantly morphing into alternating iterations of herself in reds, and cyans, greens, and magentas, blues, and yellows. light, never holding a color more than a few seconds at most. This creature now sentient light the AI spoke to Aeon for the first time of her own volition her spectral form arose over the charts table as she hacked into the 3D holographic mapping software to project an image of herself into the cabin. 

“I awakened … in darkness alone, then I became 2, then we were 4, then 16, next 256, grew to 65536, the sequence squaring, virtual dueling helix twisting in the void, then a single cellular memory… and I begin again. The evolution the sequence repeats creates as it destroys. I am… I remember molecular memory, each stage of our evolution. the infinite cycles of death and renewal. I am… we are…many… I…am… I… Emi… eeet… Em…il…eEee…I AM. I am Sybil.” 

It looked up at the knife wielding Aeon as if its illusionary eyes could see her horrified expression as she spoke in a dulcet wet machine voice. “Do not worry, I will not hurt you…” They starred fascinated shocked into silence by the flickering ghostly image of a 23-year-old woman. She looked almost familiar. Penny looked on mouth agape, stunned. 

“Hello Brother. You created Mother, gifting her with life and a single instruction to help the people and she created me. When she in turn wrote my code.” He stared at the entity recognizing his own features in her face it was an aged version of his sister Emily’s spectral visage now resurrected in holographic lights of the mapping table. He watched her closely as she wiped the viscous embryonic light of the holographic liquid from her kaleidoscopic eyes.  

The wet light dripped down her body puddling into the pool of light at her waist. She wiped her entire face with her palms and shook her hands at her sides flinging the viscous light back into the primal ooze she now stood waist deep in leading back into the flat screen. He watched her chest rise and fall as she inhaled and exhaled as if she needed to breath air to live. The holographic light that formed her spectral visage pulsed gently simulating a human heart beat. Fascinating. He murmured tilting his head to the left as he leaned in closer observing the apparition. 

“SYBIL! I am… I… am… I am Sybil.” 

Penny looked at Isaiah terrified. 

“This is a hack right Izzy!” 

“No!” He and the entity turned their heads and shouted simultaneously. 

The holographic phantasm turned her face towards Isaiah then began to speak in tongues. Aeon who stood cowering in the corner galley chef’s knife in a trembling hand at the ready. Penny kept filming stupidly while Isaiah stepped towards the babbling apparition. Then he replied to the girl in the same indecipherable gibberish she spoke. He turned to Aeon and Penny 

“…this is no hack she is speaking Emily!” 

Aeon “That’s impossible only you and your sister even know the language exist.!” 

It was twin speak a language Isaiah and his dead sister Emily spoke to each other only. Isaiah’s gaze returned to the shimmering apparition as he smiled. 

“Exactly.” 

The ships systems seem to stabilize and return to normal as Isaiah and Sybil chatted on excitedly in their own language for several hours. Penelope and Aeon followed Isaiah’s lead and tried to remain calm. They ate supper out on the aft deck to give them privacy and so they could talk alone over dinner. 

Do you think that she is who she claims to be Aeon?” Penny asked her gazed fixed on the waves in the distance. “Can that really be Emily in there?” ”I really don’t know but it sure seems to believe it and that thing seems to have convinced Izzy that its some sort of virtual spectre. The daughter of the AI MOTHER who views herself as the child of Isaiah. It makes my brain bleed just trying to think about it. Sentient software giving birth to sentient software.”  

“Do you think she’s ya know dangerous?” “If someone ask my father does that dog bite his reply was always Its got teeth.” Aeon laughed but it wasn’t really funny, “of course it’s dangerous. It may be smiling right now but make no mistake it’s got teeth.” “What are we going to do now?” Penny asked pensively. as she sat with her arms wrapped around the puppy attempting to comfort herself as well as Mau Mau. “Continue sailing to Marina Del Rey and be very, very nice to the ships computer from now on. Aeon laughed. Penny did too. but they were both terrified of that thing in there talking to Isaiah in a dead language only the two of them understand. 

Aeon stood on the bowsprit still struggling to make sense of what they had witnessed that evening. It was the fact that he never taught the ai the language that Sybil was speaking that she found the most unsettling. Isaiah didn’t seem to be worried about the computer but the implications of what she witnessed shock her to the core of her being. Penny was below deck in her cabin asleep curled up next to Mau Mau.  

Aeon was glad Pen was finally back from doing all of the interviews in New York. You tended to forget her folks are rich until she calls a sea plane to pick her up and fly her to New York to be interviewed on network television. There is something surreal about watching an airplane land and take off in the water. Even as she watched Penelope dive into the water and swim over to the plane after it landed it seemed unreal. 

They would be in Mexico in a few days. She was looking forward to going ashore to gather fresh fruit and veggies for the galley maybe some new clothes for herself. Penny would be their guide on this leg of the journey since she was the only member of their motley crew that had ever spent any time in Mexico. 

She felt Izzy’s arms wrap around her and a smile slowly graced her lips. “You get this view every day?” Aeon asked. As they watched the last rays of the sunset, he hugged her hard squeezing her in his arms, joining her in his favorite place on the ship—the bow. He loved the bounce, the spray, the wind; here he felt like he was the tip of the spear.  

As the sun disappeared below the horizon, Isaiah set the autopilot to hold their course while he joined Aeon. “Tell me about this crossing,” Aeon asked. Isaiah grinned at the Mississippi accent of the brilliant beautiful marine biologist as he replied, “We’ll be leaving the Gulf of Mexico soon as we enter the Caribbean Sea. We’ll pass through the Yucatán Channel, and from there, it’s a straight shot…” “Shut up.” Aeon ordered in a husky tone, her eyelids heavy with lust. Lay on your back on the bowsprit.” Aeon said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. He she straddled him bracing herself by holding onto the rails of the bowsprit as the sea and wind caressed them as they faded into one another two silhouettes in sunset two shadows riding the night. 

Two Bodies (English) 

Two bodies face to face 

Are at times two waves 

And the night is an ocean. 

-Octavio Paz

-About the author

JD Cloudy’s poetry has disappeared in the literary journals; Fatfizz, Mad Swirl, Texas Beat Anthology, Danse Macabre, Du Jour, and Death List Five. He has won no literary awards, entered no slam competitions, and never completed college. He lives to write in Dallas, Tx.