MIYAMOTO’S LABORATORY ROOM was utter chaos.
Desks, computers, bookshelves, and storage racks were packed along the walls, surrounding a single workstation desk the size of an automobile in the very center of the room. Other than the narrow corridor on all sides of the workstation, every flat surface in the room was covered with piles of stuff.
Professor Miyamoto cleared a space on top of the desk and set down the cardboard box. Mumbling to himself, he removed the fish container. A similar device was already sitting on top of the workstation with all of its wiring and tubing exposed—a prototype, Yukari assumed.
“It does look like the QD is plugged with…poop? Yes, that’s poop all right.”
He took off the lid and began to clean the area around the QD with a paintbrush and a syringe. When he had finished, he placed the container in the prototype device and flicked on the switch. The water began to circulate.
“There, that should do it. Too bad you can’t do that up in space.”
“You’d get water all over the place.”
“No doubt. Sorry it had to break down right before reentry.”
“Actually, it was more like during our reentry. It was a little hard to do the experiment and pilot at the same time,” Yukari said.
“If the orbiter was a little larger, that might be possible.”
“I hear they’re working on an orbiter that seats three,” Matsuri said.
“You don’t say?” The professor pulled up some chairs to his own desk and sat the girls down. He was examining the cardboard box they had brought.
“You did a fine job with this. Something of a genius at makeshift repairs, are you?”
“No, nothing like that,” Akane stammered, blushing.
“It took us fifteen years to get this device to its current level,” the professor said. “No one had ever built an aquarium for space before. I went around asking everyone for help. That oxygen regulator came from an artificial lung the medical department was working on.”
Akane nodded, eyes wide.
“The filter was a tough nut to crack too. We had to consider all the possibilities, like what would happen if they laid eggs on top of it, and what kind of material to use, and whether or not to use zeolite to get rid of the ammonia. We tested everything.
“But if someone told me to repair this thing on the spot, I’m not sure what I would have done. You have some experience with animals in a laboratory setting?”
“I’m in charge of the aquarium and the terrarium in our biology class. Though I don’t really do much—just take care of them and make observations.”
“That’s plenty! I’m sure you come away with quite a lot from that.”
“I do,” Akane said, visibly pleased. “Actually, I was wondering if I could ask you something.”
“Anything.”
“What exactly were you testing with these goldfish?”
“Whether or not vestibular adaptability can be learned,” the professor said, his voice rising. He was clearly happy she had asked. “We wanted to see how quickly goldfish that had already been in space would relearn on their second flight. If there was an observable learning effect, then we might be able to find out exactly where the goldfish are keeping that information—that was our goal.”
“Fascinating!”
“Vestibular functions are thought to be related to space sickness. And space sickness gets in the way of spaceflight, as you know.”
“Sure. It’s like seasickness that lasts for the first few days of a flight, right?” Akane asked.
“That’s correct. Of course, there are a lot of other challenges out there waiting for an astronaut. Things like calcium deficiencies due to radiation and the redistribution of body fluids. But humanity must move into space sooner or later. You agree?”
“Of course.”
“We’re constantly fighting about this religion or that ideology or some territory or another down here. Well, my thinking is: why not just move away from all that? If the earth gets too cramped, we can settle space. It starts with the station. Next the moon. Then Mars. Some scientists have even proposed moving to comets. Imagine that, comets! That’s why we have to overcome all of the hurdles between us and these, er, ‘lofty’ goals. This experiment is one small part of that, a fragment of the answer, if you will. You agree?”
“Of course!”
“If one experiment fails, we can’t move on to the next. That’s why I needed you to bring those goldfish back alive. Here I thought all was lost, but then you came to the rescue.” Miyamoto beamed and clapped Akane on the shoulder. “It’s that kind of quick thinking that makes you an astronaut, I guess! Splendid, splendid!”
Akane blinked. “Er, actually, sir, I’m not—”
“She’s a civilian,” Yukari cut in. “She just happened to be there at the school where we landed.”
“What? Is that so? Why, I was sure the SSA had sent you!”
“No, actually. See, we landed at Nellis Academy—”
Yukari went on to tell the entire story of their emergency splashdown and subsequent efforts to keep the goldfish alive. Miyamoto listened attentively, scratching his head throughout.
“I see, I see! Well, I suppose I can be forgiven the misunderstanding. After all, she’s the right age, and the girl does have considerable talent.”
Apparently, he hadn’t noticed that Akane was wearing her school uniform.
The professor chuckled. “I swear, I can’t look at a short schoolgirl these days without wondering if she’s an astronaut.”
“A short schoolgirl…” Yukari glanced over at Akane. The girl was roughly the same height as she was, maybe even a little slighter in build. Perfect height, perfect weight. She wished someone like Akane had been there when everything started going haywire. Someone to watch the experiments while she and Matsuri focused on piloting. That would have made everything so much easier. Matsuri was clearly giving Akane the once-over as well.
Well, it can’t hurt to ask.
“Say, Akane. Want a job?”
“What kind of job?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Like, maybe being an astronaut for the SSA?”
Akane burst out laughing. “You’re pulling my leg!”
“Nope. No leg-pulling.”
“Hoi! What a great idea.” Matsuri joined in. “Boy, with Akane on the team, we’d be golden!”
“We haven’t made any public announcements, but truth be told, we really need someone. This could be your big chance, Akane. Really.”
“But, but I couldn’t be an astronaut. Don’t you have to be in great physical condition?”
“A little training would take care of that, no problem.”
“But…”
“Boy, if it was me, I’d be there in a heartbeat,” Miyamoto said. “Surely you must have your share of applicants? You’re quite popular these days.”
“Actually, we do,” Yukari said. While it was true that they had made no public announcement, every month, one or two hopefuls made their way to the Solomon Space Center—on a tiny island at the edge of civilization, a place devoid of any entertainment or anything to do at all if one wasn’t in the SSA already. Most people who wanted to be the next Yukari or Matsuri despaired the moment they set foot in the place.
There were a few whose passion to go into space overcame any such concerns, but every one of them had been physically unsuited for the job. Even though they never put it into words, the SSA wasn’t in the position to even consider anyone who wasn’t under 155 centimeters tall and weighed less than thirty-eight kilograms. Also, though it wasn’t an absolute requirement, they really preferred a girl. The lack of a toilet onboard the orbiter would make things complicated were males integrated into the crew.
Which was why the best people gave up on the SSA and instead went for the Space Development Agency back in Japan. A successful career there could get you on the space shuttle and even get you a chance for a stay on the ISS.
There were other reasons holding some applicants back. Even though the space shuttle wasn’t really all that safe, and the SSA wasn’t as dangerous as it seemed, people thought twice about actually stepping into Yukari’s shoes when it came down to it. Not even the lure of overnight fame was sufficient temptation.
“I should think all you’d need is your health. I mean, if the shoe fits wear it, right? And I think you’d fit just right, Akane.”
Akane frowned, unconvinced.