“Damn!” I retorted automatically, flinching from the blow. Reflexively my grip tightened on the chair leg that I was still carrying…
…then relaxed under the Dragon’s remorseless glare. She was right, of course. I was wasting time. “Lagrange has no pods to spare,” I said. “They’re evacuating the entire station. That’s not only never been done before, but no one dreamed that it might ever be necessary. They aren’t coming for us. That means our only way out would be for me to go EVA to the Aphrodite and take us all out on her. But I don’t have a suit anymore. Because I’m a chicken, I can’t wear the last normal one. And no beginner stands a chance of even getting aboard Aphrodite under these conditions, much less piloting her. Dockings to emergency ports are tricky, even when they’re not tumbling. She’s very likely damaged, too.”
The Dragon frowned mightily. “What if we cut off your beak?” she demanded at last. “Could you fit then?”
I blinked, not even having considered that possibility. My body was fairly close to human shape under the feathers; I was pretty much a cartoon sort of chicken. But… “I’m afraid not. They had to take a casting of my head for the helmet. It’s odd-shaped, too.
“What foolishness!” the dominatrix muttered, her frown intensifying further. Then her eyes snapped back to meet mine. “The spare suit,” she demanded. “It is in good condition?”
I shrugged. “It should be. I inspected it last week, and there’s no damage to the cabinet.”
The Dragon nodded in satisfaction. “Excellent. Meet me in the Control Room in ten minutes. Have the spare suit ready.” Then she spun gracefully in mid air and flashed away.
The Dragon arrived two minutes ahead of schedule, I noted, with several of her fellow artists in tow and carrying a bright pink package carelessly under one arm. “The suit,” she demanded. “You will show it to me.”
I nodded and lifted it up out of its protective case for her to see. “It’s a standard Mark Twenty-Five,” I explained. “You people may think of Beauregard as being cheap, but in point of fact he believes in buying good stuff for us where it really counts.” I spread the suit out a little so that everyone could see. “The bottom part is just airtight elastic fabric,” I explained. “There’s boots to wear over it, though they won’t fit my feet anymore. The stuff is slightly porous to water and very highly reflective; the wearer is cooled by his own perspiration.” I paused and looked around, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. Each and every one of the girls was listening as though their lives hung upon every word. “It’s not intended that the wearer of this style of suit be exposed to prolonged periods of sunlight,” I continued. “It’s presumed that a user will be intelligent enough to mostly stay in the shadows, or else use a sunshade. Otherwise he’ll overheat. The tradeoff, however, is that the flexibility and dexterity are almost unlimited.”
The Dragon nodded soberly. “And the helmet?” she asked.
“The air fitting is connected to the helmet,” I explained, pointing. “On a station like this, EVA’s are so rare that expended gasses are not a problem; when the user exhales, the suit just vents the gas to space. That keeps things nice and simple. We also run a much purer mix of oxygen than standard breathing-air at reduced air pressure, to reduce strain on the suit.”
“Yes,” the Dragon agreed, fingering the connection and examining it critically. “This is all very simple indeed. I have long suspected that there was nothing truly complex about space.” Then she faced me once more. “So the lower portion is merely an airtight body-suit that allows for perspiration. Must you be able to sweat through the suit?”
“Not for a short hop, no. But I imagine that I’d be getting mighty warm by the time that I hit Aphrodite without any cooling at all.”
“Even if you made very careful use of shade?”
I thought about it. “I’d have to make and use a parasol. Even then, I’d be mighty warm.”
She nodded. “I understand. And you absolutely cannot wear the helmet?”
“Even if you removed my beak, my head is too long and narrow.” I demonstrated, then sighed. “I’ll have to admit, that was a very good idea, cutting off the beak. Too bad it won’t work.”
The Dragon frowned. “It was a stupid, pitiful idea, if it will not work. A waste of time.” Her black-gloved fingers moved delicately over the helmet, tracing various contours. “And you cannot wear the suit’s bottom, either?”
“No,” I explained, shaking my head sadly. “The suit can only be made with just so much stretch in it, or else it will puff up like a balloon and immobilize the wearer in vacuum. I’m still human-shaped, but not that human shaped.”
“I see.” Then the Dragon removed the pink package from under her arm and thrust it towards me. “Put this on!” she commanded.
My reflexes were plenty good; I snagged the projectile cleanly before it could knock me in the chest. It was some kind of rubber suit, I could see…
…one with little rubber knobs on the inside at strategically located places, and oversized rubber breasts affixed to the chest. “Hey!” I cried in outrage. “This is…”
“Put it on,” the Dragon commanded. “We are not here to play games!” Then she turned to Jeanine. “He will require much powdering. He was correct when he said that his shape is no longer quite human.”
“Gotcha,” Jeanine replied, producing a bottle of talcum. Then she smiled at me. “Come on over here by the air inlet, hon. We don’t want to be breathing any more of this stuff than we can help.”
“Hey!” I cried out again, this time louder. “This is a goddamn sex suit! And a girl-type one at that! This is for guys who like to pretend to be women; I’m not into that kind of crap!”
Jeanine laid her hand on my shoulder. “Please, Marvin!” she explained. “We need for you to do this!”
“It will be airtight,” the Dragon declared flatly. “It does not leak a drop; I have proven this many times.”
“And the girl one is closer to your size than the boy one,” Trixie added, her big rabbit eyes appearing very solemn. “With your tail-feathers, we think that it may be more comfortable for you.”
Still smiling, Jeanine reached out and touched my shoulder. I slapped her hand away. “How about the helmet?” I demanded. “How am I going to get air?”
The Dragon’s eyes flashed dangerously, but Jeanine silenced her with a glance. Then she was smiling at me once more. She was very, very pretty, I realized suddenly. “One thing at a time, Marvin” she explained in a reasonable tone. “One thing at a time. How can we decide how to hook up the plumbing until we see what you look like with it on?”
The girls were all looking at me expectantly then, and the Dragon was fingering the handle of her whip. So I blushed, then removed my pants and began changing.
It was terrible, climbing into that girl-suit. Jeanine powdered and powdered, but I was still half-plucked by the time that I was totally wrapped up inside. The mouth had a sort of bit-thingie built into it; I didn’t want to put that part on, but Jeanine pointed out that cutting the rubber unnecessarily might not exactly be a good idea. In fact, she pointed out, cutting the suit was probably an even worse idea than leaving me mute. After all, once I was out the lock no one would be able to hear me anyway.
“Whew!” Patrice exclaimed, once it was done. “For a while there, I didn’t think that we were going to make it.”
“It’s very tight,” Jeanine agreed as I stood and listened, unable to say a word. Very much against my will, the little rubber knobs were beginning to have their way with me, and I feared that I was about to become aroused in a very public way. The talc was tickling my nose too, and I sneezed explosively.