She had months ago learned why astronauts, dressed in their bulky white suits and helmets, waddled clumsily rather than walked like other people. The suit's plumbing made normal walking an impossible task. Astronaut Tori Nicole Anson half shuffled, half waddled from the suit room into the hallway.
She smiled inside her closed visor at all the people assembled to wish her and her partner well. It was a false front, however. She still bristled from the biomedical exam and the difficult procedure of suiting up in this seemingly ill-fitting spacesuit and helmet.
The pregnancy test had come first. She was expected to pee on command as if she were a trained animal. Next, the speculum was freezing and without sympathy. The stethoscope between her bare breasts and on her back was equally frigid.
Even worse, the good doctor managed to cup one of her exposed breasts and cop a feel as he listened with an outward expression of
professional concern.
These were almost rendered trifling in comparison to what followed.
The process of suiting up to spend the next three days in a cramped space capsule had, from the beginning of her training, been a bone of contention with Tori. She hated wearing the ungainly white suits and their attending helmets.
The interior components of the suits bothered her most. Since she was going to be wearing one for nearly seventy-two hours, it was outfitted with special apparatus to accommodate her most intimate functions.
Chocolate and Premysyn,
Tori told herself,
only large quantities of both can save me, now.
During the eight months of training, she had resorted to ingesting profuse amounts of both as capriciously as any teen-ager with PMS might.
The suiting up procedure began with two female Technicians helping Tori wiggle into what could best be described as snug fitting Capri pants. In reality, this lower body garment was constructed of soft but thick insulating material, honey combed with narrow flex tubing. The tubes carried water that could be heated or cooled as the wearer wished. There was an upper body garment, also. The most startling feature of the "pants" was the complete lack of a crotch. They were split from back to front to accommodate the special plumbing. Once the under garment was on, Tori lay back on an examining table for the next step. She was nude from the waist up but hardly worried over that. The Techs, hands gloved, applied a large handful of cold, gooey sanitary gel to her anus.
Once they were satisfied with the amount and coverage, the Techs fixed the rubbery mouth of a Fecal Collection Device to Tori's opening. This required the Techs to spread her butt cheeks somewhat to accommodate the apparatus. Tori unsuccessfully repressed a grimace as the unit was attached to her body. The characteristics of the bio sanitizing gel required a Tech to hold it in place for an agonizing length of time. When it was almost too much to endure, the Tech smiled and commented, "That much is over with."
The FCD was nothing more than an accordion pleated heavy gauge plastic bag with a wide lipped mouth that was gel glued to one's anus. It may come to pass that Tori would be forced to live in her sealed space suit for longer than was planned. The twenty-seven year old Astronaut hissed in reply to the Tech's words. She knew this was far from over. This was the reason for the crotch-less under garment. The next waste management device was to be connected to the other more intimate opening between her legs. Tori closed her eyes tight and swore, "Crap."
"No, Tori." The Tech half laughed, "That was what the first one was for. This one is for Number Onesy, Dear." Tori screwed up her face once more before closing her eyes and reclining, again. She lay supine on the table as her outer lips were gel coated and her Urine Collection Device was put into place. She had opposed the doctor's advice to shave the dark blonde rectangular patch of pubic fur and now that bit of femininity, normally reserved for only intimate acquaintances, was being rubbed with sanitizing goop by a co worker. Tori despised this apparatus as much as the FCD.
The soft, close fitting, quasi-elliptical mouth of the UCD had a small opening in the center from which a small tube ran into a pouch in the leg of her space suit. Attached to the collection pouch was a small vacuum pump that sucked her liquid wastes into the pouch. All the female astronauts had a certain uncomfortable relationship with this creation. During training, Tori had tried not to use these collection appliances but there were a few times when that wasn't possible. The UCD pump kicked in automatically when the wearer used the unit. The initial suction made keeping one's outward composure almost impossible. She couldn't stop her mouth from making a slight "O" shape and the capsule camera never failed to zoom in on her face at those
delicate
personal episodes. The feeling was undeniably arousing and she had forced herself to focus on the instrument panels of the capsule to retain her train of thought.
"Oh what a feeling, eh?" MEDCOM would sometimes whisper when she was emptying her bladder. "You should see what you're feeling, Tori." She initially wanted to fight her way from the capsule and beat the living Hell out of the human behind the voice in her helmet. It took almost all her self-control to restrain herself. After a few incidents, however, she changed her thinking and would snap back, "Yeah. You wish
you
were the guy making me feel this good, too. Prick!"
Her partner, Asa Dick, would applaud and in a feigned
Oh so droll
upper class English accent quip: "Well played, Mum. Well played, indeed." She would laugh and punch him in the arm with a derisive growl. This would lead to short breaks in the training for horseplay and unashamed sexual suggestion. The thought of Asa brought a sudden smile to Tori's face. Over the course of their months of training, she had come to the decision it would be nice,
very nice
, to share a bed with him. He was always positive minded and had showed no hint of temper even during the most grueling test sessions. Tori hid a pang of disappointment behind her secret smile. Earlier that morning, hours before she would have been woken by her back up, she lay awake in her bed wishing she were lying with Asa making love. She had passed a difficult few moments restraining herself from simply walking across the hall to his room and climbing in bed with him.
It would have been easy enough, she told herself. Just a few quick, silent steps across the hall and she could have slipped into bed with Asa and held him close. A sudden cold gloved hand sliding across her outer lips caused her to jerk involuntarily. The Tech, possibly sensing her thoughts, apologized in a near whisper. Tori shook her head and tried to concentrate on the day ahead. This was mankind's next great space voyage. Tori and Asa were to be the first Humans to set foot on the planet Mars. She focused on keeping her breathing steady and measured. It wasn't as easy as she had wished. Her inner spaces were a riot of confused feelings. She was excited and anxious and at the same time full of apprehension. She felt so tremendously privileged and somewhat reluctant. This would undoubtedly be the greatest episode of her life but it also left her almost afraid.
This endeavor had already made her a multi millionaire. She and Asa were not NASA astronauts but employees of ARES Corporation. They were the first wave of an exploratory invasion of sixteen astronauts, all ARES corporation employees. NASA simply had offered technical assistance and advice for this flight. ARES Corp. had bought and built everything on speculation a manned Mars mission would be tremendously profitable. Among The sixteen other astronauts were former NASA members but Tori and Asa would be the first humans to stand on Mars and they were private sector employees.
Their job was as much a profit-seeking venture as it was scientific. She and Asa, however, were primarily engineering support for the mission once humans landed. On Mars waiting for them were two robotic fuel manufacturing units diligently processing fuel for the entire expedition. They had successfully landed almost ten months previously and were examining Martian raw materials for the number one necessary building block of the fuel they would need to return to Earth.
Water.
ARES Corporation scientists had been seeing indications from the two robotic fuel processors that there were promising indications of water, most likely ice, not too far below the surface of Mars. They had recently received reports both units were actually processing frozen water and Hydrogen they had stored on board to make small amounts of fuel.
It all seemed a bit confusing to Tori and Asa. At one point, less than a month before launch, they had tried to draw a friendly line in the sand on the issue. They had asked to see the raw data from the two robotic fuel-manufacturing units. The data seemed ambiguous and ARES Corporation scientists and engineers assured them it was due to the fact both units were mobile and their constant slow crawling across the Martian surface was causing slight interference with communications. The raw data was, to quote an engineer, shaken and scrambled in transit but everyone was confident the results were positive. Tori hadn't realized her smile was turning to a frown as she lay on the table.
"Okay Tori," one of the Techs spoke calmly. "We're finished on this end. Now let's get those bio sensors on your chest, Dear." These sensors transmitted her respiration and heart performance to MEDCOM for evaluation. Several weeks before, more than slightly drunk, at a party she had sarcastically wisecracked: "They tell the ground apes when we're dead."
Thinking of that night, she regretted the remark. She further regretted she had watched Asa disappear with some young woman. The rest of the evening she concentrated on trying to drink as much as possible.
What a stupid thing to do, she chided herself.
