Chapter 357
Demarcus Jackson, professor of ancient world histories at Ciliradi Provence University, was not crazy. All of his past students probably assumed he was, many of his colleagues surely thought he was, most of his ex-girlfriends probably suspected he was, and some of his friends were sure that he was. But he wasn’t.
He just wasn’t blind.
At worst, he was passionate.
As a 32 years old tenured professor, he had proven he was intelligent beyond his peers, but instead of recognizing his brilliance and trusting that his more eccentric theories held weight, his colleagues and the dean just kept trying to refocus him.
Demarcus wasn’t crazy, but he also wasn't stupid. Which is why he had allowed them to herd him into the more traditional academic path, until he decoded the Talfuna hidden language used by their ancient upper echelons and earned his tenure.
With his tenure secure, he had thought, had hoped, they would give him a little more leeway to explore the obvious gaps and flaws in their people’s, their world’s histories.
… and explore the alien artifacts they had sitting in museums.
Demarcus understood that Soerilia wasn’t ready to accept that there were aliens watching over them, guiding and protecting them. But sticking one's head under the pillow didn’t stop the monster under the bed from nibbling on one's toes. Still, he had expected better of his academic fellows after he proved his intellect. Even if they didn’t believe him, they should have trusted him and given him at least nominal assistance.
Maybe his office was a little messy and he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Weeks, maybe. But it was summer, and there weren’t any students so he was elbow deep in clay.