18
THE NEXT DAY was filled with more training and more meetings.
First she met Ari at the flight hall.
Assembling her gear and putting it on while suited was much easier in low-g, but much harder in zero-g. She bounced around on her tether, trying to manoeuvre the gear so that putting it on wouldn’t launch her in an unexpected direction. It was not as tiring as yesterday, but so disorienting.
“The second, large mouthpiece in your helmet is for when you need to spew,” Ari told her helpfully, and not five minutes later she had to use it for that purpose.
She didn’t complain today, even if the smell of vomit hung inside the suit, though she worried that all this hanging upside down might cause it to come out of the container and start sloshing about her helmet. She’d heard plenty of stor
