An older women, leading them to their quarters, explained, "I've been on space off and on for most of my life. And I've been on Station 3 since it was nothing more than some scattered modules clinging around the big central hub unit. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask."
"Sure, sure," said Patrick under his breath. All he wanted to do now was set up his lab. He felt spacesick and lightheaded due to lack of gravity. The sooner he got started the better. Dow Chemicals, who ran a tight ship, expected daily progress reports. He prayed his first one didn't read I passed-out after vomiting on my specimens.
He emptied his suitcase and placed his clothes carefully into the bureau. All he needed was for his underwear to float around the space station. Another man was using the bureau below his. Although there's no up or down in space, the cabin had a definite floor and ceiling.
"Halo," said the young man. "We'll be sharing a cabin. I'm Tomas."
After shutting his bureau drawer, Patrick extended a hand. "Hello, Tomas. I'm Patrick. I'll be working in the Bio-Medical labs. I'm here on a grant from Dow Chemicals." Patrick didn't say he was working under some Doctor Rosenblum because Dow wouldn't give a grant to anyone with anything less than a doctorate. She had written an interesting paper on the subject, but Patrick's work on synthesizing blood proteins went way beyond her findings. As far as he was concerned, he was on a grant and Dr. Rosenblum was working for him.
Tomas shook Patrick's hand limply as he used his other hand to hold onto the guide-rail. "I'll be in Hydroponics."
Patrick had to release some of the angry boiling inside him. "What do you think is more important a fancy college degree or field experience?'
"Field experience. What we learn here can't be duplicated in the classroom. You must pardon mi English. I'm learning, si?"
"You speak very well." He forgot that the majority of the Americans spoke Spanish, English being the first language in only United States and Canada.
"Gracias. We become good friends. You teach me English. I teach you Spanish. This is a once in a lifetime chance. You go to la universidad after six meses, months? Si?"
"Six months, yes." Patrick knew this conversation was going nowhere. They finished unpacking then Patrick went to his lab to check that all his research had been uploaded from Earth. The famous Dr. Rosenblum wasn't here, yet. He explained to Dow that protein synthesis was his baby, but they insisted he have a Ph.D. on his team. He appreciated not having a nosy Ph.D. around since he knew his subject better than anyone else in the field. He did the upload to Station 3 a few days ago, leaving nothing to chance. This was his baby.
After he was confident that all his research was backed up on holodisc, he linked videophone through the computer and called the girl back home. Sandra appeared on the monitor in all her 3-D loveliness. She smiled her brightest smile, showing all pearly white teeth, but the smile was false. A fake smile done for show. She tossed back her curly blonde hair, and said breathy, "Hello, sweetness."
"Hello, Sandra." He smiled back, trying not to cringe. His face looked puffy and his hair must be a wild afro by now.
"How's was your trip?"
"It went well. I miss you and Earth."
"I'm sure you do." She blew a kiss to him. "What do you want this time? I told you the hovercraft is yours. I won't be needing it for the next six months. You can't have my CD collection unless you come you here to get there."
"I thought they had luggage restrictions."
"I took my favorites. I put the others in storage."
"You're still angry about our fight. I don't want your CD's. I want you."
"That's why you want to see other men. I thought I was special."
"You are special. It's just that six months is a long time to wait."
"Sandra, it's beautiful up here. You can see the sunset every hour and a half."
"I'm back on Earth, remember?"
"You don't have to be so hostile."
"Who's hostile?" she said curling a hair about her finger. "You're the one always putting your career above our relationship." On the word "relationship" she hung up, end of conversation.
He glanced around the laboratory, still no sign of Dr. Rosenblum. Good, the last thing he needed was to deal with another bitchy woman. Patrick turned off his monitor and went to the galley for lunch.
He looked at the vegetarian menu and ordered his food. All the food was obviously grown on the station. He took his platter and clipped it onto the table.
A young woman sat down beside him. "Hello," she said, holding out her hand.
"I'm Lisa. I also work in Bio-Medical. Dow must have half the shares of this station. You're Patrick McCormick. I read your name tag."
He looked at his shirt. "I'm not wearing a name tag."
"You stuck one on your cubicle. I have the cubicle beside yours. Since I didn't see you at your workstation, I figured I'd find you at lunch."
"Here I am." He smiled, meekly. "Hello, Lisa. It's a pleasure to meet you." He waved his hand.
After she waved back, he finally remembered her from the shuttle By the way her eyes were glued on the window when they docked at the Station, he could tell that it was also her first time in space. Awed by the docking, she was totally unaware of her brown hair bobbing up and down trying to free itself from its bun. He saw that she had tightened her bun. Her wavy brown hair was now pinned neatly into place. She smiled sweetly at him as she opened her mashed potatoes.
He stabbed his fork into his broccoli and returned the smile. After lunch they went back to the laboratory hand-in-hand.
Opening the door, Lisa turned to Patrick.
He gave her a gentle nudge. "Ladies first." Lisa went through the hatch then waited for Patrick to float through. "You don't look so good."
"Space sickness," he whispered. "I'll get over it."
"You should go to medical and get a patch."
"By the time, I get to medical it will pass." He went to his work station.
"Are you also working on protein synthesis or are you here for another project?"
"Growing proteins in zero-g. That's me."
"Then you must be my assistance," they said in unison then laughed.
"Doctor L.B. Rosenblum." He laughed. "I read your last paper."
"You can stop gushing."
"You're so young."
"I'm not that young." She gave him a gentle slap, but due to microgravity he sailed across the room. He grabbed the table to prevent bouncing into the computer. She started the machine up and began to get down to work.