11.
**CHAPTER ELEVEN.**
After Navigation, the next station we're sent to is the simulation spacewalk training. The station is very huge, and there's even a swimming pool, another navigating area, and even a communication area. I find myself sitting on the floor next to Xyriel, who, for once, has stopped rambling about his supposed alien origins. Caitlyn had mentioned that he’s schizophrenic, so I can’t help but assume that his outlandish claims are a symptom of his condition. Maybe it's all just part of his mind playing tricks on him. Regardless, I sit quietly, waiting for instructions.
The instructor for this station is named Dr. Bull Damien, a man who looks way too young to even be working at NASA. He looks like someone who belongs at a club with his sequin jacket and huge booty that makes him look like a performer at a cheapskate club. He has that face parents warn their kids about—the ‘don't grow up to be like him’ type of face.
“Welcome to the second station,” his voice is oddly soft, different from how his face looks. “Spacewalk simulation, also known as the Extravehicular activity (EVA), is usually 2-3 months intensive training, but for this mission we have to squeeze it into one week.”
I pull my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them as I listen, though part of my attention drifts toward Xyriel beside me. He is quiet, but I can tell he isn't listening to whatever Damien bull has to say. To him, the man might be saying nothing but ‘bullshit’. Fits well with his name. Bull. *Bullshit.*
“There are three ways to learn to spacewalk, and we'll allow each one of you to choose a method which you believe is more suitable for you,” the man continues as he gestures around the room, emphasizing on the equipment around as if we haven't seen them already. “the Neutral Buoyancy Laboratory (NBL), the Virtual Reality (VR) Training, and the Active Response Gravity Offload System (ARGOS) — all of you are to pick a suitable learning method. Choose wisely.”
He explains that for the NBL training, a large swimming pool about 40 ft deep and 60 ft wide — which sounds intense, and honestly, terrifying, will be filled with water, and we'll be practicing spacewalks while wearing pressurized suits. I shudder at the thought of drowning in a suit. Virtual reality (VR) training, on the other hand, is just a specialized software to practice spacewalks in a virtual environment, which simulates the microgravity and visual aspects of a real spacewalk. While active response gravity offload system (ARGOS) is a training exercise where we'll be forced into wearing a harness system that will suspend us in mid-air, allowing us to practice spacewalk while experiencing weightlessness.
I think through all three options and start cutting down to my decision. I can't pick NBL because I can't even swim to save my life and I'll probably drown the moment my legs touch the water. I'm afraid of heights so the ARGOS training is also out, besides what if the harness snaps while I'm dangling like a yo-yo in the air? Nothing these days can be trusted, not even the oxygen I breathe. I'm left with only VR training, which, thankfully, seems like the safest option. No drowning. No falling mid air. Perfect.
Xyriel, on the other hand, seems indifferent to the choices. He just stares blankly, not bothering to pick. Seeing him like that, I grab his arm and drag him along to the VR station with me. He doesn’t resist, just follows quietly. The station is less crowded. I can see that there are only five of us in the station, aside from the instructors. Amanda is here too. She waves at me, then walks over with a smile.
“See you've made a friend,” she says, taking a seat beside me on the wide, cushioned bench we've been directed to sit on. Xyriel sits on my other side, silent as always.
“Oh. Him?” I nod toward Xyriel. Could I really even call him a friend? “I guess.”
Amanda's about to say something, I can see it in the way her mouth pauses, but Dr Bull Damien enters into the station, cutting her off before she can even start.
He claps his hands to gain our attention as if his sequin jacket hasn't done that for him already. “I want you all to know that this is a simulation, and nothing is real, so be rest assured that you're not falling or suspended in the air. Any questions?”
No one says a thing as he picks that as a cue to move on.
We’re each handed a pair of VR glasses, and the instructor's guide us through how to wear and operate them. Once the simulation starts, I’m surprised at how real everything feels. The spacewalk itself is smoother than I thought it would be, especially in VR.
By the end of it, I feel like I’ve actually walked in space.
After the VR training, we're taught how to do menial tasks like installing equipment, conducting repairs, and navigating outside the spacecraft. We even practice how we'll be required to communicate with our team and mission control during spacewalks.
Every single recruit is led to a room after and forced to socialize. I make some new friends also, but Xyriel remains a stranger all through as he sticks to himself.
—
Two days have passed, and while Xyriel and I have managed to forge a semblance of friendship, I still have this nagging feeling that reminds me he’s completely unhinged and nothing he says can be trusted. Here’s what I’ve learned about him in the past two days: One, Xyriel genuinely believes he’s an alien. Two, he thinks the planet Xyriel is named after him. Three, he claims his elder brother, Xykel, drew the map of Xyriel—seriously, what kind of name is *Xykel*? Four, Xyriel can actually be fun to hang out with once you learn to ignore (and not believe) half of what he says. And lastly, Xyriel is… weird. Really weird.
On the sixth day—one day before our mission to Xyriel—we’re called in for basic first-aid training. Caitlyn isn’t around since she’s handling some things for Dr. Alericap, so I’m left to attend with Xyriel, who’s unusually quiet this morning.
The station is set up like a makeshift med bay, with stretchers, bandages, and various medical supplies scattered around. Our instructor for this session is a no-nonsense woman named Miranda, who wastes no time diving into the gruesome details of what we might face on Xyriel—burns from extreme radiation, lacerations from alien wildlife, infections from unknown pathogens, and exposure to toxic atmospheres.
“We’ve engineered specialized first-aid kits specifically for Xyriel,” Miranda explains, holding up a sleek, metallic case. “Inside, you’ll find tools for treating injuries that would be fatal here on Earth. But remember, the goal isn’t to turn you into doctors in a week. The goal is to keep yourself—and your teammates—alive long enough to complete the mission, which is of utmost importance.”
“Can it cure cancer?” someone in the crowd asks.
Miranda smiles and shakes her head. “The money-sucking disease? No,” she responds dryly, scanning the room. “But I’d be more than happy if one of you volunteers to test out some of the tools we have here.”
Several hands shoot up at once. I stay quiet, while Xyriel stands next to me, still lost in his own thoughts.
“What about you?” Miranda’s gaze locks onto me. The room falls silent as she speaks, her smile polished and unnerving. “Would you like to volunteer?”
“Me?” I stammer, pointing a finger at myself, bewildered that she picked me out of the eager crowd. “I didn’t even raise my hand.”
“Exactly why I’m choosing you,” she says, flashing a toothy grin.
With a resigned groan, I stand up and glance back at Xyriel, who’s now staring at the floor. He’s physically here, but I can tell his mind is a thousand miles away. One more thing I’ve learned about Xyriel—he often gets lost in his own thoughts. I turn my attention back to Miranda, who’s standing by the podium, and begin the walk to join her, under the watchful eyes of other recruits and a few scientists and survival coaches in the room.
The moment I join Miranda, she firmly grabs my wrist and guides me to a chair that looks suspiciously like a massage chair. I’m facing the crowd as she secures me in place. I spot Amanda in the audience, waving at me with a grin. Aside from Xyriel, Amanda is the only other person I’ve become friends with. I nod back in response to her cheerful wave.
“Now, we’ll demonstrate how to use some of these tools,” Miranda’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
I glance at her and see a syringe in her hand. My expression hardens into a glare. I despise anything sharp going into my body—pins, needles, scalpels… Well, not everything sharp, if you get my drift. “You could have picked anyone else. Why me?” I hiss as she closes the gap between us. “I hate needles.”
“Oh, I know that, and that's why it has to be you,” she tells me. The grin she's wearing is really pissing me off.
“Was that also written in the document about my time in prison?” I ask her, skeptical.
She nods. “You're the only one with a fear of needles in the room.”
“Do everyone have copies of documents about mine and other ex-inmates' time in prison?”
“Yes. You all are our *specimens* that need to be studied, after all. Now buckle up.”