Free SODIUM:4 Gravity by Stephen Arseneault Page B

scrambling and practice flights into space were running non-stop. We were immediately escorted to the medical facilities where tests could be run on our newly improved bodies.
    I felt like a lab rat with all the techs surrounding me with their poking and prodding. I was then sent into the next room with a handler to remove my BGS suit for an evaluation. After removal the suit was immediately taken to a lab.
    I had my wash down and again moved in front of a mirror to check on my body's new appearance. I was shocked. My waist was thinner and the muscles in my arms, legs and torso were cut and hard. Any bodybuilder would have been proud. My skin was a light tan showing off my one-sixteenth Native American blood. It was also without blemish.
    My hair had grown fast and grown long. My light brown roots had returned to their youthful blonde. Had I somehow been able to bottle what had happened and if I was able to sell it during normal times I would have become fantastically wealthy over-night.
    I put on the dull gray Astronaut Corps uniform that had been delivered and was disappointed with how it hid my nearly perfect human physique. I then walked back into the outer room where the techs once again crowded around.
    Every test was run and data gathered. My eyesight was 20/8. My hearing 50% better than average. My reaction times doubled. And my IQ had settled at 147. In almost every way I was improved.
    I was then given the afternoon to spend as I wished. I made a beeline to the training simulators where Randy and Raven were hard at work training crews. They each took a short break to say hello and catch up. It felt good to see my old team. They were shocked at my appearance.
    I asked about Tork and about his progress. His spacewalk had saved my life, but almost ended his own. He was still in rehabilitation and had regained partial use of one of his arms. Raven said he was in good spirits and that he was a fighter. He was more concerned with the imminent attack than with his own health.
    He had repeatedly asked that no resources be used on his behalf. Command would have none of it. He was a hero and whatever we could do as a nation to support him was viewed as the right thing to do... and as worthwhile PR. Those who had been injured during battle with the aliens had received a hero’s praise from the world populations. It was a part of our humanity that garnered almost universal support.
    After my short stint with Randy and Raven I headed for the mess hall to meet Shepard. The mess hall was empty of flight crews. Shepard reasoned that everyone was now wearing a BGS and getting their nutrients from a belt pack.
    I ordered a hamburger and fries and a big chocolate shake. I began to wonder what a hamburger would taste like since I had not had one in over a year. It felt strange to bite into the warm charred flesh of the burger. The flavor in my mouth was something that had been missing. It was like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.
    When the meal was finished I felt a bloated sensation in my abdomen and had to catch myself before I let loose of a stream of urine without thinking. The meal was good and brought back fond memories of my grandfather's deep fried Thanksgiving turkey and my mother's succulent Christmas ham.
    But I was a practical person and the time-savings, simplicity and better nutrition that the BGS had to offer far outweighed the taste indulgence of a good meal. If man indeed had a future in space, I was sure the BGS would be a big part of it.
    I then invited Shepard to the base pub for a beer. Again the pub was empty of pilots and crews. We sat and chatted with two reactor assemblers about their workdays and lives. I wanted to tell of our adventures, but we were still under orders to not speak of what we had seen. It remained classified information at the highest of levels.
    From the pub I made my way back to my quarters and lay awake in bed for more than an hour, unable to sleep. The meds offered by the