Acid Sky by Mark Anson Page A

Foster. I was wondering when you’d be along. How are you feeling today?’ Donahue pushed away the keyboard and motioned for Clare to sit down.
    ‘Morning, ma’am. I’m fine, thank you.’
    ‘Yes …’ Donahue ripped open a blood pressure cuff. ‘Roll up your sleeve please. Well, I’ve yet to meet a pilot who presented themselves for a fitness test without claiming to be in a perfect physical state.’ She fastened the cuff and adjusted Clare’s arm to the correct height, and set the machine going. ‘Any dizziness?’ She looked Clare directly in the eye.
    ‘I had some when we first landed, but none since then.’
    ‘And how long were you in space?’
    ‘Eighty-five days.’
    ‘From Earth?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘How long had you been on Earth before that? More than three months?’
    ‘No – about ten weeks. Just short orbital flights during that time.’
    ‘And before that?’
    ‘Two weeks on the Moon.’
    ‘Ever been to Mars?’
    ‘No. Not yet. Hoping to go.’
    The blood pressure cuff deflated and Donahue glanced at the readings.
    ‘You’re slightly elevated, but that’s normal for your length of time in space. What about hibernation? Were you in stasis on the way here?’
    ‘No, it was only a short flight, and the advice was not to do it.’
    ‘Yes, I’d agree with that. The risks of going into stasis are greater than any bone loss problems below three months. Have you ever spent any time in stasis?
    ‘Only during training on Earth – a few days.’
    ‘Any ill effects?’ Again, Donahue stared at her directly as she answered.
    ‘I felt pretty nauseous when I came to, but it passed.’
    Donahue nodded, and pulled her keyboard back. She typed for a few moments. ‘I’ll need a urine sample. Can you give me one now?’
    ‘Sure.’
    ‘Over there, please.’ Donahue indicated a toilet behind a curtain, and proffered a sample bottle. ‘Mid flow please.’ She continued talking as Clare went behind the curtain and unfastened her overalls. ‘At least you’re honest. Anyone who says they’re not dizzy after landing, or doesn’t feel sick coming round from hibernation is a liar in my opinion. Um, how about radiation? You ever been on an EVA?’
    ‘Yes, in low Earth orbit,’ Clare replied from behind the curtain.
    ‘I’ll need to see your dosimeter.’
    Clare flushed the toilet and unhooked her dosimeter from round her neck as she stood up. The small device kept an accurate record of her radiation exposure, and had to be kept below a ‘lifetime limit’. Many promising careers had been cut short due to an unexpected solar radiation flare, or to inadvertent exposure to spent nuclear fuel cans. For women, of course, it was even more important, and any plans for pregnancy had to be declared in advance so that the subject could be reassigned to Earth. Becoming pregnant – or causing a pregnancy – in space was considered so dangerous, both to the child and to the mother, that it was a serious disciplinary offence.
    Clare pushed the curtain aside and handed over the sample and the dosimeter. Donahue dropped two test sticks into the urine and left them while she plugged the dosimeter into her console.
    ‘You’re fine there – well below the curve.’ She handed it back. ‘Just review it each year at your annual medical, and after every deep space flight.’ She turned her attention to the test sticks, holding them up to the light. ‘Calcium loss is on the high side of normal. Did you keep up the exercise during the flight?’
    ‘Yes – well mostly. I tried to get in two hours a day, but it was a full flight and some days it was difficult.’
    ‘Well I’m afraid it isn’t enough. Next time I’d recommend two and a half hours for every day you’re in space. I want you to drink plenty of milk for the next six weeks – at least half a litre a day – and ramp up the exercise gradually over the next ten days until you’re on an hour and a half. I’ll see how you’re doing after that