Red Hot Summer

The sun was high and hot, its light glittering on the surface of the Atlantic and beating down on the cigarette boat cutting through the low waves, piloted by a wizened Brazilian man in a tattered Parrotthead shirt. Inside the boat's cramped cabin David Mercer tapped away at his laptop. It was the same book he always worked on when he was idle, writing, changing his mind and rewriting, over and over again. It was a cheap spy thriller that he'd always secretly wanted to publish. Some schlock about a weather-controlling satellite, a gorgeous but suspicious redhead and a protagonist currently named Glenn Maverick.

David knew it was garbage, but enjoyed it nevertheless. Currently, he was trying to come up with witty one-liners related to death by runaway tesla coils. Something...something...shocking? Or something about something striking twice?

It was too hot to think straight. Although the wind and stinging seaspray kept things cool up on deck, down here in the cabin it was a different story. The boat's roof was hot enough to cook shrimp and the interior was sweaty and stuffy. He reached into the mini-cooler by his feet and grabbed a soda from the rapidly-melting pile of ice. He rubbed the chilled, wet metal over the dark skin of his forehead and ran his wet fingers across his close buzz cut in a desperate attempt to cool off.

There was a rustle of ice as Mark Peterson, seated on the bench across from him, reached over and grabbed a bottle of beer from the cooler. David cleared his throat at the young man.

"How old are you again?"

"Uh..." The blond student grinned sheepishly, "Old enough to drink in Brazil?"

"Yeah, you can get away with that when you're paying for the plane tickets" David grabbed a soda from the ice and held it out, "You're here on the university's dime. No drinking where I can see you."

Mark ruefully accepted the can and dropped the beer back in the ice. David looked over at the third inhabitant of the cabin: Tiffany Kwon. She lay on her back, sprawled across the third bench seat, her long, pink-streaked black hair spilling over cushions. She was wearing a purple bikini under a translucent yellow cover-up and was staring forlornly at her phone, displaying a 'failure to load' page. She had been doing that ever since the boat got too far from shore for a proper cell signal.

"You want a drink, Tiff?" David asked, "Or are you going into some kind of millennial shock without 4G?"

Tiffany rolled her head to glower at David through her thick-rimmed glasses. "It's not my fault you wouldn't pay extra for a boat with an antenna. Besides, you're a millennial too."

"What?" Mark looked up at David in confusion "But you're old!"

"...None taken." David raised an eyebrow and Mark blushed, realizing what he just said. David was still getting used to it, at 34 he still felt young but most of his students didn't see him that way.

"He's an elder millennial," Tiffany poked at her phone, looking for some app she could use offline, "They're immune to status effects and get an extra attack a round."

"Not going to even pretend I know what you're talking about, Tiff."

Mark sipped his soda thoughtfully, "So wait...am I a millennial?"

"You're just a sophomore," Tiffany looked over, "You can't be a millennial without crushing student debt. Everyone knows that."

"Yeah, but I took a gap year." Mark failed to notice Tiffany roll her eyes.

"Still counts," Tiffany seemed to have found some game that involved tapping at a large cookie to no obvious effect.

The conversation died again, leaving the cabin filled only with the sound of the boat's engine and the muffled sounds of some music from the skipper's boom-box up above. After a few minutes, David noticed Mark scoot a bit closer to Tiffany.

"You know, on my year off I spent some time in Japan." Mark bragged, flashing her a smile that probably served him very well in high school.

Tiffany, still resting on her back, stared at him silently.

"...Then afterward I visited China for a week."

Tiffany continued to stare at him. The hot cabin dropped a degree or two.

"...uh..." Mark seemed to realize how much he had fucked up but didn't seem to have the common sense to cut his losses. "...I've always wanted to see Vietn-"

"I'm Korean," Tiffany finally spoke, voice flat. "And from Wisconsin."

"Oh, I love cheese!"

"Babo."

David shook his head slightly and turned back to his laptop as Mark dug his hole deeper. He couldn't blame the kid, Tiffany was looking very good in that bathing suit. In fact, it was hard to avoid thoughts a professor shouldn't have about one of his grad students. She was short but slim rather than compact, with slender legs leading to a petite waist and small, but very perky...

He derailed that train of thought and forced himself to focus on the adventures of Glenn Maverick, action meteorologist. Besides, he was fairly sure that Mark was barking up entirely the wrong tree. At a university Halloween party last year he'd accidentally walked in on Tiffany and an absolutely gorgeous black girl dressed as a sexy pirate, making out behind the vending machines. The two were too busy to notice him and he had beaten a hasty retreat.

A bit of rejection would probably be good for Mark. The kid was handsome, with dirty blond hair and big hazel eyes, and he was pretty sure his parents were loaded. He probably didn't hear "No" a lot. The fact that he was built like a quarterback didn't hurt either. His grades weren't anything to write home about but at least he seemed to try his best. He was here for some extra credit and because he was dive certified, so the university wouldn't have to pay the cost of a professional.

David's writing and Mark's attempts to dig his foot deeper into his mouth were interrupted by the sound of a whistle from above.

"Are we there yet?" Tiffany groaned.

"Sounds like it," David set his laptop aside and got to his feet, making sure he didn't bump his head on the low ceiling. Boats were not kind to tall folks. "I'll go up and take a look."

Climbing up to the deck, holding onto wobbly rails to keep his footing, David was temporarily blinded by the sudden glare. It was high noon without a cloud in sight and the sun was punishingly hot. Even the spray thrown up by the boat felt warm on his skin, although at least the breeze was pleasant.

"Olá senhor" Called the skipper, noticing David's arrival. "We're almost there!"

As David's eyes adjusted he could see the man was right. On the horizon was an island, dotted with blue-green buildings: Ilha Anjos.

Ilha Anjos was home to the Sea Angels marine biology research station and literally nothing else. The island was smaller than a Walmart and featured only a large central building, an attached dorm and a couple of small outbuildings. It's only other features were a few outbuildings and scattered palm trees.

Personally, David would have preferred spending his summer somewhere with more than an acre of dry land but Sea Angels wasn't charging the university anything for using their facilities and funding was tight. Besides, they were right on the equator and it was pretty much ideal for David's needs.

As the boat approached the skipper cut the engine to a low idle and maneuvered the small craft towards the pier. A larger trawler was already moored there, with the Sea Angels' cartoon manatee logo painted on the side. The old man hopped down and tied his own boat next to the larger one, before climbing back aboard and opening the cargo hatch to start unloading his passenger's luggage.

"I don't mean to rush you senhor," The skipper hefted a huge duffle without much trouble despite his wiry frame. "But I have other passengers to meet soon, you know?"

"It's no trouble. We're all ready to get back on firm ground." David hefted his own bag, Tiffany and Mark were already emerging from the cabin, eager to be off the boat.

They climbed off one by one, careful to avoid dropping any of their equipment into the surf below. As soon as everyone was clear the skipper cast off again, waving them goodbye. David hoped he remembered that they'd need a ride back in two week's time.

Once she was firmly on the pier Tiffany immediately retrieved a tube of sunscreen from her purse and started applying it to her arms and face. The girl had pale skin that could sunburn in an instant and she had packed copious quantities of SPF 100.

"Olá!!"

David looked up from his luggage at the sudden greeting. The speaker was a woman, jogging across the small scrap of dry land between the building and the pier. As she got closer David recognized her: Dr. Juliana Montes, head marine biologist the Sea Angels research center.

Juliana was tall and looked like she kept herself in great shape, her generous curves only slightly concealing her athletic build. She had glowing bronze skin and a mane of dark hair, frizzed from constant exposure to seawater.

David normally tried not to ogle the first time he met a fellow academic but Juliana was making it hard not to. Especially since she was currently wearing a pair of hip-hugging, red jogging shorts and a thin, white belly shirt stretched over an, admittedly, incredible pair of tits. The shirt was damp from ocean spray and sweat and her breasts bounced happily, unhindered by a bra.

He glanced over at Tiffany and Mark, both were openly staring.

"I want to go to there," Tiffany murmured, a look of almost awe on her face.

"Professor Mercer, I assume?" Juliana slowed as she approached, breathing heavily from the jog and putting additional strain on the fabric of her shirt. "Glad you made it okay, have a good flight down to São Luís?"

This close, David could clearly see Juliana's large, dark areola through the damp shirt. His jaw worked up and down for a moment as he struggled to decide whether or not he should say anything. Maybe things were just different in Brazil?

Managing an ounce of self-control, David extended a hand to Juliana, "Ah...yes. Yes, that's me. Glad to meet face-to-face, Dr. Montes."

She shook his hand, a firm strong grip. "Please, call me Juliana. It's so great to have you here."

David smiled, keeping his brown eyes fixed firmly on hers. "Well, thanks for hosting us for the experiment. I normally do my research in Antarctica so this is a nice change."

"Well, maybe after this heat you'll miss it, huh?" Juliana laughed and David had to be very disciplined to keep himself from looking down. "Are these your students?"

"Yes, this is Tiffany Kwon, one of my grad students." David winced to see both of them were still openly enraptured by Juliana's barely-contained chest. "And this is Mark Peterson, he's our diver and a student in my atmospheric science course."

Juliana noticed the looks from both Tiffany and Mark and finally seemed to realize what they were staring at. Her cheeks darkened slightly in embarrassment and she crossed her arms over her chest, providing some modesty.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Juliana gasped, although she seemed more amused than upset. "I was in the middle of my workout and I'm so used to being alone out here...I completely forgot how I was dressed!"

David's face heated, although fortunately his blush was invisible beneath his black skin, and grinned sheepishly. "Oh? I hadn't even noticed?"

Juliana smirked at him, raising one eyebrow in clear disbelief. David could respond only with an embarrassed shrug.

"Come on in, I can put something on and show you around." She motioned for the three of them to follow her into the main building.

---------

Juliana, now wearing a t-shirt with a cartoon manatee, gave them a tour of the facility. The main building was a two-story structure equipped with everything needed for the Sea Angel's research: bio labs, specimen tanks and a veterinary hospital. The attached dorm had a kitchen, dining and recreation area and five small bedrooms.

As they were walking the grounds, something occurred to David. "Dr. Montes, you said you've been by yourself, but aren't you supposed to have backup staff in places like this?"

"Juliana." She corrected. "I did have Maria and Lucas here with me until about a month ago. But Maria had to head back to the mainland once she realized she was pregnant."

"What about Lucas?"

"Well, it wasn't me who got Maria knocked up, was it?" Juliana grinned, eyes sparkling. "In theory, I should get a new crew right away. But funding's tight..."

"I know how that is," David grunted sympathetically, "That's why researchers have to stick together."

"Exactly right. But hey, look on the bright side: we've got space for everyone to have a room to themselves!"

"Dr. Montes, I have a question." Tiffany piped up, phone in hand. "My phone can't find the wi-fi, is it different in Brazil?"

Juliana shook her head, "Oh, I'm sorry menina. No wi-fi out here."

Tiffany looked like someone had just shot her puppy in front of her.

"We have a satellite link," Juliana continued, not noticing their mental agony. "But the bandwidth is merda. We just use it for email and that still takes forever."

David patted Tiffany and Mark on the shoulder, "Welcome to the dial-up world. Don't worry, Twitter will still be terrible when you get back online."

Before Tiffany could respond the conversation was interrupted by the sound of an approaching engine. David sighed, an expression of apprehension on his face. "I think that will be our 'independent verification'."

David led them outside, his mood instantly fouled. He and his students were here to retrieve a series of specialized sensor buoys from the open ocean. For the past year, the buoys have been transmitting subsurface sensor data by satellite, monitoring the ocean's temperature at the equator. From the data gathered so far, this summer was another record-breaker and even the winter and fall had been hotter than average. In order to confirm the data, they had to retrieve the buoys and perform calibration tests to make sure that no physical or software defects skewed the data.

Unfortunately, this study wasn't cheap and every year the budget shrunk smaller and smaller. This year, the meteorological department had to seek funding from an unpleasant source: Nafta Petrochem.

David had been against it from the beginning, sure that they would attempt to pressure the university to dismiss or distort the results. Sure enough, as soon as the first check cleared Nafta pointed out a bit of fine print that allowed them to demand "independent verification" of the buoy's data, sending a representative of their choice to review the results.

The engine turned out to be a seaplane, approaching from the mainland. The small craft came in for a water landing and coasted to the pier where David, Juliana and the students waited. Mark broke the silence, "So...who is this?"

Tiffany glared at him, probably still upset about the wi-fi. "Some big oil dick who's going to make sure the weather data never sees the light of day."

"Cool it." David's tone was serious, "I'll make sure that doesn't happen. But you've got to keep it civil, they could use a hostile work environment as an excuse to delay or disqualify the study. So play nice."

"Babacas intrometidos." Juliana muttered under her breath.

David looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, "Cuidado, eles podem saber Portugues."

She smiled at his rusty Portuguese and gave him a wink. That made him feel a bit better at least. He turned back to the docking plane and steeled himself as the door opened. So long as he made sure everything was documented to hell and back and he didn't give this bastard any excuse to declare the results invalid, then there was still hope for getting the data published.

David was still surprised by the woman who emerged. He was expecting a bureaucrat or an engineer of some kind who'd be scouring their report for errors and loopholes. He had never seen a pencil-pusher who looked quite like this.

She looked more like a movie star from the '60s, like one of those "Bond girls" with terrible names like Anna Lingus or Rebecca Kumalot. She was dressed in a wide-brimmed white hat, a white, shoulderless summer dress and a pair of large, designer sunglasses. The wind picked up, billowing her dress and her shoulder-length dark brown hair, forcing her to hold her hat to keep it from blowing away.

As she stepped onto the pier David felt a surge of annoyance at how beautiful she was. She had a light, Mediterranean complexion and her fluttering dress revealed long, graceful legs and pressed against the curve of her hips and breasts. She wasn't quite as impressively endowed as Juliana but they looked like they would each make a soft, warm handf-

David cut off that line of thought and chastised himself. He had come out of a long-term relationship about 8 months ago and hadn't had much more than a drunken make-out or two since then. He told himself that he was just feeling lonely and had been working too hard on the love life of Glenn Maverick and not enough on his own.

"Professor Mercer?" The woman's voice brought him back to reality. It was a hell of a voice, low and sensual with a light Italian accent. Hearing her say his name was the aural equivalent of a scalp massage, leaving a light tingle across his head and neck.

"Professor Mercer?" She repeated when David failed to respond. Juliana and the others were giving him a funny look and he was, again, glad that they couldn't see him blush.

"Yes!" He blurted, ruining any chance of keeping his cool. "That's me. I assume you're from Nafta?"

"That's right, darling." She smiled: a predatory smile of white teeth against blood-red lips. She held out her hand. "Carrie Ricci. It is so nice to be working with you."

David took her hand and, before he could pull away, she lifted his hand to her lips, planting a kiss on the top of his hand. It might have simply been a typically European greeting, but she let her lips linger just half-a-second longer than felt appropriate.

David managed to avoid yanking his hand back like a flustered virgin and kept at least a scrap of dignity. "Well, it's certainly nice to meet you Ms. Ricci. Can I ask what your qualifications are?"

She waved to the pilot of the seaplane, who had just finished unloading an impressive pile of luggage, and flashed David another predatory smile, "I'm afraid not darling. But I'm sure we will get along fabulously."

"I bet," Tiffany muttered, although she returned to poking at her phone when David shot her a warning look.

Mark had a big goofy grin on his face and quickly volunteered to help unload and carry Carrie's large suitcases. David was thankful that Mark wasn't privy to any important experimental data, because he was sure Carrie wouldn't have any trouble pumping him for information.

He had expected them to send a lawyer. This was so much worse.

-------------------

Several hours later Mark was laying in his bed. The room was small, with a closet-sized bathroom, a few bare wall shelves and a bed. It was a place for sleep and storing personal essentials and not much else. Like one of those economy dorms back at the campus.

It was also really hot. Even after night fell, the heat was oppressive. A small, low-energy air conditioner and an oscillating fan struggled to keep the room semi-comfortable. He had tried doing his nightly push-ups and sit-ups but was forced to stop when the sweat and heat became unbearable.

Now he lay naked on the bed, basking in the relatively cool breeze created by the fan. He was still damp from a post-workout shower and the breeze was a blessed relief on his wet skin. Normally, at this time of night, he'd have a drink from his stash and watch nutshot youtube videos on his phone until he fell asleep. Until now, he thought Tiffany had been acting ridiculous about the whole wi-fi thing but he was starting to feel the pangs of withdrawal himself.