“Thank you,” Merpati replied. She was unable to say anything more. Her stomach abruptly rebelled and she vomited inside her helmet without warning. The sound of her retching was frighteningly loud in her helmet headphones. She retched a second and third time before she was able to groan heavily and issue a weak cry of revulsion. The smell of digested food and bile inside her helmet with the wet feel of it on her face was enough to make her shudder and reach panic stricken to remove her helmet.
“Wait! Wait!” Dunne commanded, “Hold on, Doc.” She forced open her visor and the large blob of vomit wobbled unsteadily into the capsule. It quivered and made squishing sounds as it bounced off Dunne’s suit. He corralled it with his hands and held it in place. Merpati made another sick groan but managed not to expel anything more from within herself. Even as she dry heaved, Merpati was fumbling for the small vacuum used for cleaning the interior of their capsule while they were in orbit. Clumsily, she managed to break out the hose and activate the suction. In a bulky spacesuit, strapped to an aluminum frame with canvas called euphemistically a “seat”, it was not an easy task for her.
“… Damn… Sorry! Damn it… Sorry!” Merpati finally succeeded in sucking in the softball sized globule of stomach contents. Mitch took the hose from her and vacuumed her face and inside her helmet with it still on her head. It was embarrassing but she endured without comment. Merpati’s thoughts were turning more to the tube between her legs. She was despising the catheter and hated the way it, along with the affixed Biosensors, made her so very conscious of herself. She wanted to deny all of it was fueling her aroused state. She wanted to deny even the purpose of the Dionysus Mission. Instead, Merpati sighed once more and grinned through her now closed visor at Mitch Dunne and said, “Thanks so much… Again, Mitch.”
“Don’t mention it,” Mitch returned her smile. “It’s all going on the Bloopers tape, Doc.”
