Reaching Beyond

Nikolai stepped into the exercise module, ready to work up a sweat.  It had been a long day, busy with various scientific tests on pine seedlings in one of the Space Station mission rooms specifically set up for that purpose.  Housed between the surgical workstation and the small animal facility, the most technologically advanced equipment was set up for his use.  Indeed, he had to admit that nothing had been spared to obtain the best instruments possible.  Not particularly exciting work for an agronomist of his caliber, actually, but, oh well, the tests needed to be done and it was clear that the mission was going full speed ahead on the continued study of the effects of weightlessness on plant life. 

He scratched at his knit shirt and pulled once more on his boxer shorts; best to make sure he didn’t lose these babies today, particularly if he got on to the treadmill.  The last time he was on the treadmill, Zita, a French physiologist, was using him as a guinea pig of sorts, testing his endurance and blood flow on the treadmill.  While he ran, the shorts had come tumbling down to his knees.  Embarrassed, he had tried to retrieve them, only to stumble and fall to one side of the treadmill.  Still strapped to the machine, he was panting and unable to stand up.  Both humiliated and somewhat chagrined, he continued to struggle back to an upright position.  Zita had laughed loudly, put down her kneepad and notes and reached a hand out to help him up.  His Russian male ego somewhat bruised, he nevertheless returned, as directed, to the treadmill, once again under the watchful eye of Zita.  She probably liked what she saw, he thought to himself.

So today, alone in the room designed for such exercise, he would find some quiet time, without Zita.  He struggled into the fastening straps on the floor of the module designed to force him to exercise legs that had become weak in space.  He began his warm-up, then worked up to a good sweat.  Boy, that feels good, he thought, as he stepped up his pace and let his previously tight muscles do their work. 

Suddenly, an explosion of light and flame roared through the module, blinding him.  The sounds of alarms deafened him as he felt the painful sting as flying pieces of metal and plastic struck him.  Once again, he felt himself stumble as before, but this time his fear level was beyond comprehension.  His stomach lurched its contents up into his throat and he gagged.  His chest tightened, constricting his airways; his entire body shook in spasms.

God, where was that oxygen mask?  I’ve got to find it right away, he thought as he fumbled in the overhead storage unit.