John Ringo - East of the Sun, West of the Moon

Linda looked across Geo and gave her a cool look that Nicole either didn’t notice or pretended not to.

“Oh, we’ll have to build a module from scratch,” Geo admitted, leafing through the ship’s documents, oblivious to the two gorgeous women pressed on either side of him. “But it’s mostly a matter of setting up a transform equation for generation and the materials. There’s a xatanium injector that’s used for the latitudinal thrusters and… hmm…”

“Geo?” Linda said, gently, after the pause had stretched out. “We’re still looking over the ship systems, here. Maybe we should worry about third-form equations later?”

“Oh, very well,” Geo said, smiling at her sunnily. “But it’s all very fascinating! Much better than building walls!”

Evan looked up at the door on the end as there was a tap, then walked over. There was an L shaped curtain around the door so no one could see in, and he entered the small alcove to undo the bolts and locks.

“Yes?” he asked the Blood Lord guard on the stoop.

“Message from the dwarves,” the Blood Lord said, trying not to grin. “Time for Miss Howard to get fitted.”

“Aaaaah!” Nicole yelled from inside. “Not me !”

“Time to face it, Nicole,” Evan said, trying not to grin back at the guard.

“Ow!” he heard behind him and a slap. Then a moment later Nicole came to the door, her face set.

“One damned word…” she said, tightly.

“What was the slap?” Evan asked, trying very hard not to grin.

“Paul,” was all she said, striding out the door.

Herzer cleared his throat and tapped on the door cautiously.

“Yes?” Megan said as he stuck his head around the edge of the door.

The computer techs had a room in the team headquarters building, since there were only a limited number of interfaces in the ship. Megan and Courtney were bent over one of the shuttle interfaces, puzzling over a list of icons.

“Time,” Mike said, nodding at her.

“Oh, crap,” Megan said in her most unladylike tone. “I guess I’ve got to get it over with, don’t I?”

“Yep,” Herzer said, surreptitiously scratching at his crotch, keeping the movement out of sight behind the door. “Especially since they’re working on a full armor suit for you. You’re scheduled right after Nicole. So…”

“I’d better go get… ready,” Megan said, frowning.

“It’s not that bad,” Herzer assured her. “If I could do it…”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Megan said with a sigh. “See you in a few hours, Courtney.”

“Okay,” Courtney replied, trying not to smile. “Have fun.”

“Just wait until it’s your turn,” Megan said tightly.

Over the millennia there had been various types of space suits used. One of the most popular prior to the development of field generation suits had originally been developed by a political entity called the Soviet Union. The Mir suit had only a single entry and exit point and the user donned it by climbing through a port on the back and then sitting in it cross-legged. It was more of a small ship than a true “suit” but it was popular because it was robust and very unlikely to fail.

However, it was a pure microgravity system and impossible to move around in with any sort of gravity. The Icarus team required suits that could move from microgravity to the full auto-grav of the personnel portions of the ship. Of all the choices, the “leopard” suit was the most suitable given their time constraints.

The Leopard was, essentially, a whole body glove that fit like a second skin. Using multiple layers of fabrics it transferred off heat, prevented loss of air and shielded the body from heat and radioactivity. However, it had to be absolutely skin tight since any air pockets would tend to create bulges. If they were small they would cause small reduced air-pressure areas that ranged from painful to actively dangerous; the low-level vacuum could cause anything from small “hickeys” to bleeding through the skin. Larger pockets tended to be less painful — the suit would only allow so much bulging so their vacuum level was lower — but due to the shape of the human body they tended to migrate to joints. There the swelling of the suit caused it to become rigid at the joint, reducing or eliminating movement.

Getting it absolutely skin tight was the hard part. The only way to do that was to either have the user around while the inner liner of the suit was constructed, a multihour process that required near absolute stillness, or have a full-body model of the user.

Given their time constraints, and the difficulty of staying still for hours, Peterka had insisted on using the full-body model method. The problem being, it was, basically, a plaster model of the body at skin level.

First the user would be covered in a thick layer of plaster and cloth. After that had set, the form was cut away and removed. Then a “statue” of the user was cast in the form from a rubber mixture. There were various lumps put in places to mimic items like the catheter bag and water carrier that would be inside the suit. Once the statue was prepared, the seamstresses, including now Mirta, carefully constructed the suits, layer by layer, on the statues.

Really, when all was said and done, the only problem came down to step one: making the mold.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Megan said, stepping out of the shower wearing only a robe.

“Not quite,” Herzer said, grimacing and holding up the jar of petroleum jelly.

“I cannot believe this,” Megan replied, slipping off the robe and standing in front of him, naked.

“You’re still wet in places,” Herzer said, trying not to stare at her fully shaved body. He was still itching from where his “shaving” was growing back in.

“Help me?” Megan said after a moment, holding out a towel with a slight, unhappy, smile.

“You’re going to be okay with this?” Herzer asked as he carefully dabbed at some wet spots.

“I’ll live,” Megan said, gritting her teeth. “I can handle a bunch of dwarves leering at me. I don’t have to like it.”

“I’m sure they won’t leer,” Herzer promised.

“And I want you to be there to make sure,” Megan said, picking up the jar of jelly and scooping out a double fingerful. “Please?”

“Okay,” Herzer replied, picking up the jar in turn. “Do your back?”

“And various other spots,” Megan admitted, slapping the petroleum jelly on her arm.

The plaster would, of course, adhere to anything it set on. The petroleum jelly, which had to be rubbed on in a very thin layer all over the body, was to ensure the plaster would release the user’s skin. By the same token, any body hair would be ripped off when the form was removed. Thus the full body shave.

Herzer tried to act as if slowly rubbing petroleum jelly all over Megan’s body was nothing but another job. He was not, however, that good an actor.

“Herzer,” Megan said, huskily, “you’re just supposed to be putting on a thin layer. Not rubbing it in lovingly.”

“Sorry,” Herzer said, lifting his hand. “Maybe you should do the back of your thighs.”

“I think I can get the rest,” Megan admitted, breathing in and out deeply. “Although, there’s a nasty kink in my neck…”

“Maybe later,” Herzer said, stepping back and turning away.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Megan said, reaching a hand out and touching his arm. “Sooner or later, we’re going to get some time .”

“Bet on it,” Herzer said, not looking at her. “Soon. Certainly as soon as the mission’s done. I’m going to insist on some leave. For both of us. No political deals, no missions. Just… time.”