Page 39 of Galaxy Between Us

Knox and I gawk at her words while she casually attaches blood pressure cuffs to both of us. That can’t be possible. All we need is a simple distraction to diverge everyone’s minds away from me and Knox hooking up in the elevator. We don’t need to alter our brain waves to do that.

Knox breaks away from my gaze to glare at Gomez. He’s probably thinking the same thing I am. This is too much for one measly little scandal. Gomez shrugs, shrinking back as Knox and I struggle to pick up our jaws from the floor.

“I’m sorry, you’re sending us to outer space? Without a spaceship?” Knox asks for confirmation while Dr. Ritza continues checking our vitals.

“Yes… If it works.”

“I told you this would be monumental,” Gomez defends himself.

“This sounds dangerous,” I comment, heart rate picking up at the thought of something going wrong.

“It is,” the Alpha admits, “But the chances of it working are admittedly slim. This will only be the first official run.”

“Why us?” Knox whispers, grasping the weight of this project.

“You’re a healthy, knowledgeable Alpha and you have a healthy, compatible Omega. You’re also the same age with similar upbringings. The brain chemistry between the two of you will be useful, and your shared knowledge of outer space will allow you both to come back with information that could reshape history as we know it. Though, I’ll warn you that you might have different experiences. An Omega’s brain waves function on a slightly different part of the spectrum than an Alpha’s.”

My body shivers, perturbed by how much she knows about us and our chemistry. I guess she saw the tabloids. Insecurely, I rub my neck where I hadn’t even considered hiding Knox’s bite marks. Something tells me he had planned for that. Dr. Ritza draws our blood before inserting each vial in an advanced machine.

“That will do for now,” she says, dismissing us and strolling away.

Two days later, we’re back early in the morning. She has us change into plain orange outfits, safety goggles, and head pieces that feel priceless with intricate wires, sensors, and buttons digging into my temple.

I breathe deeply as I meet Knox inside of a floor-to-ceiling cylindrical glass chamber where we’ll be tested for compatibility with the space machinery. The spacecraft beds are officially titled Quantum Force Transfer Stations. They lie intimidatingly in the center of the room, being prepped for our journey. Standing in place beside me in the wide tube, Knox reaches for my hand.

“We don’t have to do this. We can step out any time,” he whispers as Dr. Ritza and her assistant fumble with a control panel on a platform below us. The glass door to the cylinder slides shut, sealing us in with a puff of crisp air. The entire thing is clear glass, but it still feels intimately private.

“It’s not just about covering the scandal anymore. I’m too curious to step out. We could go to space, Knox…together. That sounds like a dream.”

“It does. Do you actually think it’ll work?” he stares straight ahead, careful not to disturb the delicate electronics on his temple by moving too much. I do the same, swallowing down queasy excitement in my gut about our random circumstances.

“I don’t know, but to even just feel a part of outer space would be amazing. I’m going to pay attention to any star forms and dust clusters. Really try to gouge the structure of the universe beyond.”

Knox’s handsome reflection smiles in the cylinder wall. He squeezes my hand before dropping it as we brace for the tests to begin.

“Alright,” Dr. Ritza grabs our attention through the headset speakers. “The first test is visual. You’re going to see flashes in the corner of each eye. All you have to do is follow them with your peripherals, and the headset should pick up on it.”

“Got it,” I reply sharply, desperate to prove that Omegas deserve to be in these positions. Studying the unknown alongside Alphas and Betas.

Not much happens. My vision blurs and I become hyper focused on the mission at hand. My forehead sweats beneath the expensive headset device because I’m anxious of possibly messing up and not seeing the flashes. But then they begin and I smoothly do as she instructed.

It goes on for a few minutes. Left, right, upper left, lower right. Each little flash is like a star, sparkling with hidden mysteries of the boundless universe. My eyes follow like they can catch them and unveil their secrets.

Then it stops. I blink a few times and I’m back to staring at Dr. Ritza’s stern gaze beyond the cylinder. The migraine that follows makes me scrunch my face with pain. I groan through my teeth but force my eyes open to glance at Knox’s reflection. He appears unfazed as he comes back to awareness.

“It’s alright, Arius,” Dr. Ritza’s voice is calm in my ear. “You focused your vision a little sooner than you were supposed to. A common danger response for Omegas. That’s all. The headache should subside shortly.”

I take some deep breaths and let the wave of pain pass. This is good. This is important for science. At least everything worked as it should. Dr. Ritza looks pleased with whatever results are displayed on her fancy tablet. If all I have to suffer is a headache, I’d say that’s worth it to see the stars from galaxies away and potentially discover something new.

Dr. Ritza keeps us contained in the cylinder for a long time, but I hardly notice because I’m so fascinated with this whole process. She runs many lucrative tests on our vision, hearing, memory, and reflexes. By the time we’re done and stepping out of the cylinder, my stomach rumbles, but not as loud as Knox’s. Despite the two of us being side by side for the last few hours, I plaster myself against him with a sigh of relief. I feel like I can move freely now that we’re done with the priceless head pieces.

“How was it for you?” I ask Knox as an assistant guides us to a lounge where we can eat.

“Good. I didn’t feel a thing, but I was more worried about you than me anyway. Is your head better?”

“Yeah. It was a brief ache, but it went away like she said it would.”

We enter a fancy, beige seating area with modern plant decorations and a minimalist design. Relaxing together on a sofa, we wait for food to arrive. Instead, Gomez reaches us first with newfound enthusiasm.