Specializations:
Marine Biology, Oceanography, Deep Sea Exploration, Undersea Cartography, Marianas Trench Research & Development, Reef Preservation; Aquatic Behavioral Sciences; Sub Technology.
Staff:
Dr. JOE SALAS-Director; Dr. IAN CAMACHO-Asst. Director
Professors: Dr. Tina Brkić; Prof. Miguel Cruz, Prof. Laura Limtiaco
Public Relations/Military Liaison: Kelly Genero
Residencies:
Sakura Funihashi; Nu'u Pali; Deana Santos; Akira Masahiro
She saw the name she was looking for on the sign and drove on, seeing a massive complex on the water's edge in the distance. After more than a half mile from the bluff to the shoreline, she was in the visitors' parking. She looked at her cell phone: 6:48 P.M. The sun was already fading. Deep purples, pinks and orange hues broad-stroked the sky.
The grounds and security lights were already on. She walked to the front glass doors and saw the working hours sign: Monday through Friday: 0800 – 1800. With no cars in the parking lot save hers, she cursed the bad timing. She would have to wait until Monday. She was about to enter the SUV when she heard faint voices somewhere nearby. She walked around the side of the complex and noticed a concrete stairway that lead even further down, towards the water some 50 yards below.
As she moved down, the voices grew louder and more discernable. There were at least three men and two women. The stairway finally ended at a massive deck that began on the property but extended out some 75 feet, judding out over the water. Connected to the deck was a mini harbor or pier with a 20-foot sailboat, Zodiac motorboats, jet skies and kayaks tied up to it. The building itself, sitting back up against the hillside was five stories tall, with a modern glass and wood facade. Huge glass doors at the base opened out to the deck.
But what amazed her most was that the deck had a massive hole cut out at the farthest point—a specially-designed pool that opened up to the ocean. The voices she heard originated there. She moved closer, amazed by the entire complex that seemed specifically designed for someone's intimate association with the ocean. She moved closer to the pool which was some 40 feet wide in a half moon shape. The ocean waves gently rolled into the pool and receded out. Besides the people, other things were in the seawater pool with them: dolphins. She smiled as the dolphins rolled in with the waves and swam freely with the occupants like personal pets. Pool lights illuminated the clean blue water and that's when she noticed something else: The swimmers were naked.
“Hello! Excuse me!” she called as she stood a few feet from the pool. The swimmers looked at her and waved.
“Hello! Are you lost?” asked one drawing laughter from all. She smiled embarrassingly.
“I’m looking for Dr. Salas? Dr. Joe Salas?”
“It’s after working hours, honey!”
“Yeah, I know. But I was thinking that if I could catch him—”
“Do you even know who he is? Do you know who you’re dealing with?” asked one of the swimmers. “He doesn’t do interviews without an appointment. And if you’re Navy, you’re going to have a hard time getting near him.”
“I understand. I do have business with him of great importance.” All the swimmers moved closer to her, in no way bashful about their nakedness.
“After working hours is his time. If he were here, he would say you’d have to come in with us in order to talk.” She nodded and smiled at the joke. “Is what you have to say that important that you would do that?”
“Yes, it is.”
The group smiled collectively and swam back to the dolphins. Suddenly, a man walked up and stood next to her. She didn’t seem to notice. Only when his shorts and shirt dropped to the ground did she look at him. She instantly recognized his face from his books and magazine photos.
“Dr. Salas!” The man looked sternly at her. Now wearing only Speedos and a tank top, she couldn’t help but glance quickly at his tall, athletic physique. His balding head was the only proof that he was in his late thirties; but his muscular frame and chiseled abs made him look as though he was in his twenties.
“Dr. Salas, I’m Lieutenant Kira Brightman from the Navy’s weapons research facility.”
“WEPS?”
“Yes, sir, and I was sent here to talk to you about a matter of grave importance.” He nodded indifferently with a smirk on his lips.
“Grave importance, huh?” he spat. “Why is it always a matter of grave importance when the Navy’s ass is in a sling? But when I bring up a matter of “grave importance” that involves the Navy, you guys throw my ass under a bus and say it’s not your problem!?” He set his hands on his hips impatiently, his eyes blazing with scrutiny. She felt uncomfortable as his glare burned right through her.
“Sir, I. . .I understand that your anger with the Navy goes back many years. I’ve read the reports, the injunctions and the court cases, but sir. . .if you hear me out. . .this is different.” She swallowed hard. “This is quite different.” He considered her as her eyes shifted nervously.
He quickly realized that she wasn’t an expert on what she wanted to say; in fact, she wasn’t even thoroughly briefed. He’d met countless Navy representatives who stuck out their chests, flashed their badges, demanded his help and expected some professional courtesy. They always arrived in uniform, Commander’s rank or above, and with an aide or some extra staff members at their sides. It made no difference to Joe Salas. He chewed these “experts” up and spat them out, sending them back to Washington with their tails tucked between their bureaucratic legs. The last one was over four years ago.
But this one was different. Other than carrying a briefcase, Kira Brightman was dressed in a sundress, tank top and sandals. She didn’t claim to be an expert. She was young, no more than 25, a Lieutenant. She was nervous and out of her element, Salas surmised. His feud with the Navy notwithstanding, the fact that she was from WEPS gave her an advantage over all of the others. He decided to test her.
“Inside.”
“Excuse me?”
“Inside.” He cocked his head to the pool. “It’s after hours. You wanna talk to me, then you get inside.” She looked down at her clothes and was going to ask if she could borrow one of the women’s swimsuits when she looked up and saw that he was now completely naked. Her mouth opened slightly as her eyes followed his wide chest to his six-pack, and down to his groin area. He stood patiently until her visual inspection was completed. She swallowed hard again and raised her eyes to his.
“Do I meet your approval, Lieutenant?” he asked impatiently. She nodded silently. “Clothes aren’t allowed in the pool.” He walked to the edge and dove in.
“It’s about time, Joe!” called one of the swimmers. “Where are the others?”
“We’re right here!” Kira looked around as four other people rushed up, two men and two women. They carried a cooler full of ice, bottled drinks and bags of food items. They set everything down at a group of picnic tables on the deck. They returned to the edge of the pool, quickly greeted her, then stripped naked as well. Kira noticed
