Novo Cetus

Chapter 15

After three helicopter rides, a four-hour layover in the Chicago O'Hare airport USO waiting area, and two ground transport trips, Melinda and Dan arrived at a laboratory in Colorado. Great, thought Melinda, it's too late to go directly to the workroom. A fidgety young man, leaning from one foot to another, stood at the entrance of the facility. As Melinda got closer, she noticed he held two 8x10 color photos – one of her and one of Dan. The young man squinted at her photo.

"Long flight, huh? You guys look terrible! Melinda, right? I don't mean you look terrible. You just look, well, awful!" He looked closely at the glossy picture of her again, as if to make sure it really was Melinda. He finally shoved the photographs into the file he carried.

He turned to Dan. "I think you probably look awful, too." The young man gently placed his hand on the small of Melinda's back. "I am Moto -- your support staff. I must insist you both get some sleep."

Melinda started to protest, but before she could get a word out Moto cut her off. "Travel fatigue can be reversed within the first few days with adequate diet and rest," he said as he expertly steered the two researchers into the lab. 'You will sleep for three hours, then I have arranged bright light exposure to reset your circadian system; optimal timing is critical," he nattered on. "Using circadian science, I developed a spreadsheet of light exposure to assure re-entrainment progresses one timezone per day."

For the first time in years, Melinda worried that she looked terrible. She didn't think Dan looked terrible, but a more critical observation proved him to look disheveled, stubbly and kind of stinky. I probably do look terrible, she thought.

As if Dan read her mind, he said, "You don't look exactly terrible, just not as good as you did hours ago."

Moto tugged at her duffle bag.

"Thanks, Whale Guy," Melinda muttered, then yanked her duffle firmly back into her control and followed the peculiar man. They ended up in a pristine hallway with several doors lining the left wall. Each door was open, standing at attention as they walked past.

Moto chatted on about the rooms, "Guys-Guys, these rooms are all the same. Just pick one. Sorry Melinda, none with a bigger bathroom or large vanity for you to store your make-up! Ha!" Moto snorted as he barked out a one-syllable laugh. Melinda turned into the nearest room.

"I'll take this one," she said to Dan. "I guess I am pretty tired. See you later." Dan smiled and indicated he'd take the next room.

She closed her door and hoped she wasn't going to hate this Moto guy.

The room was ordinary. Quite like her last room, maybe bigger, with different art. This ten by twelve private dorm room featured pictures of local flora – yellow aspens, Engelmann spruce and pink moss – with the Latin genus and species typed neatly at the bottom of each framed poster. The desk was sufficient, she thought, and placed her laptop on it. She tossed her duffle onto the floor next to her bunk. Gingerly, she bounced a few times on the bed, testing the firmness. It seemed fine, however the pillow situation was a different story; one measly, flat-as-a-pancake pillow. She knew this would not do. An idea flashed in her head - like a cartoon light bulb, she mused – and she went to pilfer pillows from the empty rooms. Back in her space, she kicked off her shoes and fell into bed. Hoping to fall quickly to sleep, she willed her mind quiet.

She found Dan already in the lobby exactly three hours later. An extra hot shower and a brisk bout of teeth brushing helped revive Melinda. She wore a butter yellow J-Jill T-shirt and black yoga pants. Dan wore Gray lightweight sweatpants and a black T-shirt, and he wore them very well. I am not doing this, Melinda said firmly to herself. I am not going to care about how he looks.