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Unread 03-27-2013   #1
greinskyn
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Join Date: Apr 2012
Posts: 9
It's a Hormonal Thing...

Jake Fielding
Endocrinology Department
Stanford University

At least that’s what the good doctor always envisioned seeing on his door. Who’d have thought all that research into hibernation would’ve led him to NASA instead. Yet here he was, lead scientist on the Astronaut Suspended State Initiative (ASSI) for upcoming Manned Missions to Mars. That he was the youngest member of the team also bears mentioning.

Currently the 5’ 9” Sandy-haired scientist was hunched over the GloMax Luminometer studying cellular activity in his latest hormonal application. ‘Everything normal. Yes!’

“And those idiots thought we could only achieve hibernation through temperature manipulation and I.V. treatments!”

“What was that Dr.?”

Jake looked at his assistant Talbot and gave a dismissive shake.

“Oh nothing, just trying to cope with narrow-minded people who think they know it all!”

Talbot raised an eyebrow.

“Oh not you!” He stammered. “ I meant those fools still stuck back in the 50’s.”

Nodding at the explanation, Talbot went back to her own duties. Yet Jake’s eyes lingered on her. Truth be told it wasn’t hard. Julianne Talbot was easy on the eyes. Tall and slender, the 24yr old could’ve been easily mistaken for an actress.

As if sensing his gaze, Talbot shifted slightly in her seat.

“Don’t you have some Protein Kinase data to crunch?” she asked.

He did… he did at that. With a sigh, Dr. Fielding went back to work.

Unbeknownst to them a pair of eyes took in the whole exchange… jealous eyes that narrowed in bitterness.




Later that day Dr. Fielding checked on several of his test mice. As usual everything was spotless and in order. ‘Damn that Cantrell is an organizing machine’ All seemed healthy, content, and given that it was the usual time for handling; quite active. Sensing his movement a few gathered by the glass… no doubt expecting a treat. Their patience being short, however, they quickly returned to whatever they were doing. Much the same was going on in the control cages. The only difference being a smaller gathering at the glass and far fewer making furtive dashes to the food bowls.

Then there was the noticeable size difference…

Even given the random ways the cages were scattered each night, test mice were easy to spot. Rounder and heavier than their control counterparts, they gave the illusion of being over-fed and lazy. Well, only half of that was false. They did indeed eat more than the control mice thanks to the synthetic beta opioid agonist coursing through their system. That amazing hormone, discovered by Jake himself, was proving to be a significant step in the future of healthy long-term space flight.

A grin spread across Jake’s face as the latest test data came to mind. Twenty nine of thirty beta agonist test rats had suffered virtually zero muscle tone loss despite being sedated for six months. Cell damage to their hearts was less than .006% ‘If this data can be extrapolated to a human...’ Dr. Fielding’s mind spun at the implications. Equations flooded his brain; calculations that normally required a computer.

“A single sedation could last the entire trip to Mars!”

‘That is, if enough fat is stored ahead of time for the journey.’

Smiling even broader, Jake gave his little buddies an extra treat even though they had no courses to run. No doubt Cantrell will notice the disparity in the feed level and raise a stink. ‘They’ve earned it.’ he justified. After all, being team leader should have some privileges. Turning he dimmed the lights to the interim 76% level and left.

It was time to contact Marshall Peterson for the next stage.



Dr. Fielding couldn’t believe his ears. Before he could even respond, pounding blood thundered in his ears.

“One astronaut? ONE?!

Peterson had been expecting this. After the sequester more than a few already cash-strapped programs had fell under the axe.

“Now Dr. Fielding we all know how important your research is. But the fact of the matter is, this is still research. We just don’t have the manpower to sacrifice any more frontline candidates for non-essential duties.”

It was the standard bullshit-filled response Jake should have anticipated. That didn’t ease his temper any.

Peterson put an arm on his shoulder.

“Son, you’re just going to have to make do with astronaut Roberts for now. Don’t take it too hard. Your research has all the heads talking. Do well with this gal and you’ll get the resources you need. I guarantee it!”

Jake’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Roberts. Could it really be the one he was thinking of? The scientist in him doubted it. Tanya Roberts was a top line NASA asset. No way could he be that lucky. No doubt it would be Patterson Roberts (Yes, two last names… never a good sign) Jake’s quick mind processed all this; going from surprise, to elation, to calculated disappointment all in a fraction of a second. Heck he’d already began plotting the male astronaut’s programme before Peterson had finished his quip finally mentioning the key word “Gal”.



Julienne looked up pensively from her preparations set-up as Dr. Fielding came in. She’d gotten a “heads up” from Suzy in appropriations that only one astronaut would be participating on the study. Hearing this she and Louise Cantrell quickly prepared the lab for some justified frustration. Both remembered the broken glass the last time department heads had screwed up their plans so had a WIDE path for their boss to storm through.

To their mutual surprise Dr. Fielding came in happy as a clam. Hell, he practically strolled to his desk. Julianne shot Louise a questioning glance; receiving a confused shrug in response. ‘OK something’s going on’ Ever the patient one, she stuck her pen in her mouth and went back to work. Nothing stayed a secret for long in this place.

‘Let’s see where was I?’

Julianne took the pen back out of her mouth and chastised herself for ever letting it find its way there in the first place. A bad habit for a lab tech for sure.

‘Oh yeah, the new preparations’

Putting on a pair of gloves she started carefully measuring out the updated formulae. It was painstaking work which befitted her nature. So it was, everything went on without a hitch until the last batch.

“Um… Louise? Weren’t there forty-eight vials of the B-agonist?”

The other woman’s eyes scrunched up from behind the safety glass.

“No. I’m pretty sure there were only forty-six vials.”

‘Shit’

“You sure? I could’ve swore there were forty-eight yesterday?”

Louise slowly stood upright, giving her hefty frame an exaggerated stretch.

“Hold on, let me check the logs.”

Muted clicking could be heard from Louise’s computer.

“The log says Forty-six.”

“OK. Thanks!”

‘Great, now I’m going to be short’



03 March 2016

Tanya Roberts had arrived like clockwork. She now stood “At ease” in just a sports bra and spandex shorts. Jake stood in front of her; clipboard in hand. The deadpan look he sported belied the pure lust he felt… not to mention the dread he also felt, should Jake Jr. decide to stand at attention.

Roberts’ stats were impressive. At 5’11” she still had him edged out a full inch despite the platform cheaters he’d slipped into his shoes that morning. 70.67 kilos (159 lbs.) would’ve been a hefty amount on the average female frame, but Robert’s physique was cut, toned… and frankly a little intimidating. Jake felt a few twitches down below. ‘Cripes, not now!’ Desperately he tried to envision the molecular shape of the polymerase binding used for deploying the synthetic beta opioid agonist hormone. Thankfully it worked.

For a while anyway…

No amount of technical mumbo jumbo could shield the scientist from the sight of Julianne giving Roberts her hormonal cocktail. Talbot’s slender feminity proved the perfect counterbalance to the astronaut’s raw sexuality. It was just too much visual stimulation and imagination at work in Jake’s rattled brain. At least he was at his desk.

“OK Roberts, I want you to meticulously document your food intake and exercise regimen.”

He quickly scanned the multitude of pages he’d been given chronicling several months of just such data the astronaut had already gathered. Holding up the sheets for emphasis, he continued.

“I see you’re diligent in such documentation… and no doubt you have a strong sense of routine and determination. I must stress, however that you let go your strict dietary control for phase one of our test. Feel free to follow your body’s demands or urges if you will. We need to see what effects the hormone has on appetite as well as nutritional requirements. Physical and metabolically induced changes are critical to the study. Just document everything you eat, no matter how small. If there are any unusual cravings or feelings towards food or even loss of appetite record that also.”

He paused a second to guage the astronaut’s reaction.

“Do you understand?”

Roberts nodded curtly.

“Yes sir!”

Jake smiled at the formality.

“Please call me Jake. Or if you must; Dr. Fielding.”

“Yes Dr. Fielding I understand.”

“Good. Now If everything proceeds smoothly we will shift to phase two in eight weeks time, wherein you shall return to your…”

He paused to gesture once more to the sheaf of papers in his hand.

“… rather rigid dietary habits.”



Julianne Talbot stared at the Doritos bag while on break. For some reason her favorite High School snack had been on her mind today. Such a craving was rare for the slender assistant… practically unheard of really. During morning coffee break, however, she’d spotted a couple of men from propulsion chatting it up over a bag. It’d been on her mind ever since. It being morning break at the time Julianne easily talked herself out of the temptation. Lunch proved much harder. By the time she’d finished her half tuna fish sandwich and single serv mandarin orange pack she could practically taste the delectable chips. Still the assistant held firm. Then shortly before afternoon break Julianne had to rerun an entire batch of injection suspensions when thoughts of the smell of Doritos had caused her to foul up the mix.

Now here she stood drooling over a type of junk food denied her almost five years now. ‘You don’t need this Jules’ her practical side urged. Images of the taunting received during her teen years came to mind; cruel heartbreaking images that should have dissuaded any thoughts of indulgence.

CRACKLE

The instant the bag came free from its little clip there was no going back.

Last edited by greinskyn; 03-28-2013 at 04:08 PM. Reason: added character references
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