Chapter XIX
The Quantum Force Transfer Station hums beneath me, whirring down until it stops making noise entirely. My eyes slowly come back to awareness, and I watch the translucent face shield slide away. There are tears in the corners of my eyes as I take a deep breath.
I hear rapid clicks of Dr. Ritza’s shoes from somewhere in the room, recognizing them immediately.
A calming, familiar sound after being isolated in the quiet hum of space.
At least, I think that’s where I was. I think it worked.
Either that, or I was so desperate for it to work that I dreamt the whole thing.
A group of astronomers begins frantically removing me from the transfer bed, calling out my vitals as I process everything I saw.
“It was beautiful,” I whisper to no one in particular, staring dazed up at the ceiling.
Full recovery will take some time, but I convinced them to at least let me sit with Dr. Ritza the following day so I can explain what I saw before I forget.
It felt like I was gone for maybe twenty minutes, but it’s been two weeks.
The scientists explained that my receptors failed, but the ejection process was a success.
They were able to safely bring me back without causing damage to my brain.
Knox is still under, probably for another week or two. I hope he’s seeing what I saw.
“There were these rock formations, unlike anything on earth. The sediment was compacted as if a collision occurred. Little fragments were everywhere, sparkling with an otherworldly silver sheen.”
“Iridium, perhaps?” Dr. Ritza suggests while typing notes on her beloved tablet.
“No. It was different.”
“Are you sure?” she glances up at me.
I clench my jaw, irritated that Knox isn’t here to vouch for my intelligence.
“I’ve studied the sky all my life, Doctor. This element was something else. Coated in ultraviolet radiation and interacting with light differently than any known element.”
“Ultraviolet? How were you able to see it then?”
“I don’t know. But I did.”
“And the light refraction? Did you see the source of that?”
“I think so… It felt like there was a galaxy nearby. Its stars kept me warm.”
Dr. Ritza stares at me with deep intrigue and curiosity. It takes me a minute to unravel the question in her gaze.
“The concept of size was completely obsolete. I felt…not like a tiny, insignificant Omega… I felt huge. One with the space where physics don’t have limits,” I explain to her and she hums.
It was truly as if I’d been standing beside an entire galaxy instead of existing as a speck of dust within one. Or perhaps there are galaxies so small that I could look upon the entire thing. Who knows. I wish I’d gotten to stay there longer.
My head starts to feel dizzy, and Dr. Ritza notices the way my hands grip the arm rests.
“Can I see Knox?” I blurt before she can instruct me to rest.
“There’s not much to see, Arius,” she scolds me, not for the first time.
“Please, Doctor. I just want to be close to him,” I beg, feeling cold in the sterile lab rooms without him by my side. It’s no secret that I’m his, and he’s mine, but Dr. Ritza still appears hesitant. Until we’re mated, the world will only view me as his personal sex doll.
“Only for a few minutes. I don’t want any information about the project’s outcome leaking to the public. Not yet.”
I nod sharply in understanding. This is a huge discovery.
We need to dive into it first before anyone else can steal our findings and make sense of them.
Taking a deep breath, I get up slowly, cursing the Alpha-sized shirt and sweatpants hanging off me.
They’re comfortable on my aching limbs but show off more skin than I’d like.
Stepping into the empty hallway, I tug the annoying fabric over my shoulder from which it fell.
This floor remains relatively vacant with highly restrictive access.
Dr. Ritza scans her badge to allow us through to the project labs.
I’m not surprised to see Gomez pacing the hallway just outside of the main entrance.
I form a pitiful expression. With his boss absent and unconscious, he’s been itching for something to do. He was told he could take a vacation, but he refused, saying that he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about Knox’s condition. Much like the rest of us, he wants to be here when he wakes up.
I nod at Gomez and he nods back, eager to check on Knox too. We enter the lab and follow Dr. Ritza to the scientist overseeing Knox's progress from a desk full of monitors.
“How is he?” I whisper, side-eyeing the transfer bed where Knox lies tangled in the complex machinery.
Sometimes my heart tells me this is too much. We didn’t need this big of a diversion, but I was just so damn curious. I went to space. The third Omega in history to ever be there with the stars.
I was told that my Omega boarding school has been trying to reach out and add me to their hall of fame. That should keep me busy while Knox is under.
“His brain activity is showing odd signals, but everything in his frontal cortex is functioning properly. He shows no signs of distress and his vitals are stabilized,” the scientist responds, keeping her eyes on the monitors.
“Odd signals?” I step behind her, trying to make sense of the illustrations and pixels on the screens. Gomez peers curiously too, but it’s impossible to interpret the data unless you’re a genius.
“Nothing worrisome, Arius,” Dr. Ritza assures me, sounding annoyed with my concern, “His condition is very similar to how yours was. Even if a few receptors fail, he’s still withstanding any discomforts. His brain won’t back out as quickly as yours did.”
“Because he’s an Alpha?” I bite at her.
“Because he's Knox.”
Not believing her, I clench my jaw and return my sights to the monitors.
“What about his occipital lobe? You only checked the frontal cortex.”
The scientist’s expression hardens. I know I have no place questioning her ability to do her job, but this isn’t about us. It’s about Knox’s health. Just because I got out safely doesn't guarantee that he will. He’s not invincible just because he's an Alpha.
“His visual receptors are functioning, but…”
The scientist pulls up a window on a screen that she hadn't been monitoring as closely. My heart races and I chew on the collar of my shirt while watching colors dance around on a digital map of Knox’s brain.
She spins the model around to view the back and that’s where I can tell something is wrong.
The scientist sucks in a breath and glances at Dr. Ritza.
“Prognosis?” she asks, looking uncertain of the wavering purple smudge on the back of Knox’s brain. The scientist types with speed across a keyboard, making quick assessments of information as the windows pop up on several monitors.
“I think his brain is no longer processing visuals. It must not be serious or else the alarms would automatically trigger the ejection process. I would guess he’s relying on his other senses but shows no signs of retreat.”
“Pull him out,” I mutter, becoming dizzy at the thought of something going wrong.
“Nothing’s wrong, Arius. We’ll know when to bring him back,” Dr. Ritza scolds me.
Gomez looks like he's on my side, worried and desperate for Knox to return, but as a Beta, he keeps his mouth shut.
“Just pull him out! This is enough! You can practice on other Alphas and Omegas later!” I complain in a rising state of panic.
“If we pull him out now, the ejection process could still take days. It's safer if we wait,” the scientist explains, waving me off and returning to her surveillance.
“Dr. Ritza,” I turn to her with pleading eyes. “Please, something's not right, I can feel it.”
The judgement is clear in her sharp eyes. She thinks I’m being a difficult, hormonal Omega. I don’t know how to explain it to them, but I have a bad, heavy weight in my gut. In fact, the more I panic, the more nauseous I become. I swallow it down, wiping the sweat on my forehead.
“We’ll monitor his condition closely, but we’re not pulling him out until it’s necessary. Get some rest, Arius.”
I want to fight and argue, but my insides are doing acrobats. She's right. I need to take it easy and rest, whether I want to or not.
“Gomez…bathroom!” I clamp a hand over my mouth, suddenly in severe need to release the storm happening in my stomach.
He notices my urgency and quickly guides me out of the room. Hand on my arm, he drags me to the nearest restroom and tugs the large trash bin to my chest when I heave. The sensation is awful, burning my throat all the way up. Tears well up in my eyes from the unexpected internal queasiness.
“Are you okay?” Gomez stays by my side while I get it all out.
“I’m fine,” I choke out the words. “Just symptoms of the– “
Another wave of heaving into the bin interrupts my sentence. Fuck, this is awful. I didn’t even know nausea was a recovery symptom from the transfer bed, but then again, my whole operation had failed on me. It must’ve elevated the side effects. I need to rest.
Once my stomach is empty, Gomez leads me to a private room where I lie back on the bed to sleep. For the next few days, everything falls into the same cycle. I wake up, throw up, visit Knox, sit with Dr. Ritza, and then sleep the rest of the day away.
By the fourth day, I’m starting to worry about my symptoms. Recovery shouldn’t be this bad, but my stomach is still twisted, and without Knox, I have the deep urge to nest in his scent again, but I’m too embarrassed to voice my needs.
Dr. Ritza comes into my room, catching me pacing with worry.
“The results of your blood test are back,” she holds up a folder with my name on it. “We did a comprehensive exam that’ll show us any little detail as to why you’re still not feeling well. I haven’t checked the results yet, but I’d say it’s probably low iron.”