As the miles rolled beneath the Range Rover’s Michelins, Dottie comforted baby Ted and tried to doze, saving up for her time at the wheel. Dottie wasn’t allowed much sleep. Time and again her Motorola tri-band sprang to shrill, bleeping life. Dottie’s astrophysicists in Boston regarded Dottie as their den mom. Dottie was the only one in the lab who knew where they kept the whiteboard markers and the Coffee-mate.