Three weeks, four days and several agonising seizures later, Zel was finally able to breathe normal air. They had been in orbit for four days. She followed directions to remove the connections to her body, kicked to the top and lifted her hands up to the medics waiting to pull her out. Puking up the oxygenated liquid was part of the expected result the moment that she hit the slick deck on top of the tank. Two days earlier, she had gotten her injection to make her receptive to the donor sample, and today, she was going to get things started. Zel shivered and Quilan rubbed her back. “Get it all out, Zel. Come on.” Zel threw up the last of the fluid in her stomach and coughed out what was in her lungs. The medics wrapped her in clean, dry cloth and lifted her down the steps to an exam table with a scanner. “A quick scan to make sure that everything is where it is supposed to be, and then, we can proceed.”
