[ACT 2]
✦ ✦ ✦
THE NEXT MORNING, Satsuki took Yukari to the Fuel Processing Center half a kilometer from the main base. She led her down a hall that smelled faintly of chemicals until they reached a door labeled DEPARTMENT OF MACROMOLECULAR RESEARCH.
Yukari stared in disbelief as Satsuki pointed out the department head, a disheveled woman in a white lab coat and worn tennis shoes with thick glasses that nearly covered her face. She was walking right toward them.
The woman stopped a mere thirty centimeters from Yukari— no doubt the ideal focal length for the glasses. She scanned Yukari, leaning from left to right, trying to find the best angle from which to make whatever observations she was making.
Yukari leaned toward Satsuki. “What’s she doing?” she whispered.
“This,” said Satsuki, “is Motoko Mihara, head of our chemistry department.”
“Take off your clothes.” Motoko’s voice was coarse and deep.
“Again?” Yukari had been ordered to disrobe half a dozen times the day before. The thought of another day spent slipping in and out of clothes set her teeth on edge. She stared Motoko down as best she could.
Satsuki was all smiles. “Submitting to this sort of examination is part of your job, Yukari.”
With a resigned sigh, Yukari got undressed. Again.
“Bend over,” ordered Motoko.
Yukari bent over. Without warning, Motoko grabbed her abdomen.
“Hey!”
“Very good. Nice and tight. We shouldn’t have any trouble making it.” There was genuine delight in her voice.
“I stand behind my product,” said Satsuki.
“Trouble making what?”
“Your space suit.”
“Space suit? I thought this place was for making rocket fuel.”
“Among other things.” Satsuki waved an arm around the room. “We can produce almost any chemical you can imagine here. Motoko is a bona fide genius.”
“What’s that got to do with—Aieee!” Yukari felt something cold and slick on her back.
“Vaseline,” said Motoko.
“That would be good to know before you start.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“And why are you rubbing Vaseline on my back?”
“We need a mold to cast your suit.”
“What for?”
“It has to be skintight.”
Genius or not, Motoko’s bedside manner needed work.
Satsuki bent down so she was eye to eye with Yukari. “Those NASA astronauts look like someone in a Godzilla costume. Their suits are baggy, loose—you won’t be tying shoelaces in one of those, and you can forget about scratching any itches. What’s the point of being out in space if you can barely move? Which is why Motoko developed the skinsuit.”
“Skinsuit?”
“Think of it as a second skin. They show up in anime all the time.”
“My anime expertise is a little rusty.”
“Normally you have to pressurize a space suit with air. It puffs up like a balloon, and even the joints end up stiff.”
“Uh-huh.”
“With a suit that’s skintight, we only need air in the helmet— after all, your skin doesn’t have to breathe. So long as the suit can vent sweat and excess heat into space, you’re golden. The key is having the right material. Something water permeable, airtight, heat resistant, and flexible while maintaining its shape.”
Yukari sighed. “The only part I understood was ‘skintight.’ Sounds like a pervert’s dream.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll have your share of admirers. But don’t worry, we’ll save the press kit till just before the launch so you’re not distracted.”
“Maybe some weirdo with a fetish will pay good money for the suit once this is all over.”
“I sure hope so—they cost eight million yen each.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Motoko finished covering Yukari in petroleum jelly from the neck down, and with Satsuki’s help, they immersed her in fresh plaster, using spatulas to position her so only the back half of her body was submerged.
Motoko leaned over Satsuki. “It takes about thirty minutes to dry. Try not to move.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
At first the plaster was ice-cold, but after only a few minutes it had become uncomfortably warm.
“Motoko? Is the plaster supposed to get hot?”
“It’s a side effect of the congealing process.”
“But it keeps getting hotter. You’re sure this is normal?”
Motoko watched as sweat beaded on Yukari’s forehead. She laughed. “I need you to do something for me, Yukari.”
“What’s that?”
“Trust me.”
✦ ✦ ✦
[ACT 3]
✦ ✦ ✦
THAT AFTERNOON, AS Yukari recuperated in the barracks, Director Nasuda was addressing an assembly of the department heads.
“Good news from the Department of Economic Planning. They’ve agreed to delay cutting the program if we can get a person into space by year-end—and not one day later.”
The members of the team glanced nervously at one another. That only gave them four months—extremely tight.
“Now, as for Yukari’s training. This isn’t Yasukawa we’re dealing with—she’s never even flown a plane, much less a spacecraft. We’ve got an uphill battle ahead of us. What are our priorities?”
The flight director, Kinoshita, raised his hand. “Courage, knowledge, familiarity. If she panics during the mission, we’ve got a problem. She’s going to be locked in a cramped capsule, alone, with a hundred tons of explosives under her feet propelling her into space at eight kilometers per second under 8 G of force.”
“Put that way, it’s enough to scare me.”
“We could simply…not mention the risks.”
Director Nasuda shook his head. “Out of the question. If all we wanted was a witless stowaway, we might as well launch a monkey. The whole point of a manned program is to send up someone who knows the risks and is willing to face them. Even if that person is a teenage girl.”
The room fell silent.
Satsuki cut through it like a knife. “We should start with solo survival training.”
“A parachute drop into the jungle?”
“Exactly.”
“Some of the tribes on this island aren’t exactly friendly. All well and good if she runs into the Taliho, but what about the rest?”
“So we send her in packing heat.” Kurosu patted the sidearm at his hip. “If she can get off a warning shot, they’ll scatter like roaches.”
“You want to ask a teenage girl to jump into a jungle crawling with potentially hostile natives? She’ll be on the first plane back to Japan.”
“Leave that to me,” said Satsuki. “Give me one week. I’ll run her through the centrifuge and multi-axis trainer until she doesn’t know which way is up.”
“And that will work?”
“Absolutely. I’ll push her right to the edge. By the time we put her on the helicopter, she’ll be so exhausted she won’t fear anything, even death. She’ll do whatever we tell her to.”
Kinoshita nodded slowly. “We’re going to induce post-traumatic shock.”
“Bingo!” Satsuki grinned. “I’m starting to like her. She’s healthy, takes orders—she’s even cute. I’m curious to see what can be done with her.”
“I’ll try to have her suit ready by then,” said Motoko. “I want to get data on its performance in a tropical environment.”
Kinoshita rolled his eyes. “Sometimes you two scare me.”
“Then it’s settled,” declared Nasuda. “Satsuki will begin endurance training. Kinoshita will handle her studies. Swamp her with homework.”
Director Nasuda turned to Kurosu. “You’re going to teach her how to handle firearms. That should tickle your drill-sergeant bone.”
“She’ll be a Green Beret by the time I’m through with her.”
“You have your assignments. Get to work!”
✦ ✦ ✦
[ACT 4]