“Four Gs,” said Panin, looking at the gondolas.
“Five,” said Kondratev. “Who’s in there now?”
“Nguyen and Gurgenidze,” the trainer said.
He brought two acceleration suits, helped Kondratev and
Panin to put them on, and laced them up. The acceleration suits looked like silkworm cocoons.
“Wait,” the trainer said, and went over to the base.
Once a week every cadet rode the centrifuge, getting acceleration conditioning. One hour once a week for the whole five years. You had to sit there and stick it out, and listen to your bones creak, and feel the broad straps dig through the thick cloth of the suit into your soft body, feel your face droop, feel how hard it was to blink, because your eyelids were so heavy. And while this was going on you had to solve boring problems, or else assemble s
