Chapter 10

A tray of food sat untouched in front of Kita on a hover table. It felt good to be free of restraints, but her engorged mammary glands emphasized the painful longing in her heart. She missed his presence, his smell, his soft skin, his cooing voice. Tears spilled, again. Would she ever stop crying? She reached for the cup of tea and saw Molly.

“Mol!”

“How ya doing, sis?”

Kita drew in a deep breath. “All right, I guess.”

Her sister sat on the side of Kita’s bed and picked up the fork. She scooped some mashed white vegetable and held it at Kita’s mouth.

Submissively accepting the bite, she pushed the texture around before swallowing with disgust. “Oh, yuck!”

“I know, but you’ve gotta eat,” Molly consoled.

Kita nodded and laid her head back against the stiff pillow. Another tear traced the already-established track down her cheek.

Molly’s lip quivered, but she held back the obvious emotions. She lifted another bite. “Kita, how would you feel about me going to Omicron?”

Kita’s eyes flew open as she sat straight up, almost knocking the tray back. “What!”

“How would you feel—”

“I heard the question. Molly! Why would you do that?”

“They cannot get away with this. You’ve been robbed. The chief has agreed to an investigation and...” Molly stared at the heap of food on the fork. “I’ve been assigned.”

“Oh, Molly!” Kita reached out, her elbow pressing into the mashed whatever, and pulled her sister into a hug. Molly couldn’t hide anything from her twin, she was scared. Kita held her for a long moment, just like she did when they were little.

Kita’s ragged breath followed another uncontrolled outpour of emotion. How much of this was hormones and how much was despair? The twin symbiosis encircled Kita’s senses. Her throat squeezed tight, and she could barely swallow. There, with Molly’s arms around her, the two cried as one. Michael’s absence, the mysterious violation, broken dreams, and disappointment flowed in a stream of grief and misery.

Molly leaned back and wiped her eyes. “Okay, so tell me everything you know. I’ve got three months to prepare.”

“Three months! Molly! That’s not enough time.”

“Well, it’s what I’ve got, so it’s what I’ve got.” Molly shrugged.

“Okay,” Kita repositioned herself and pushed away the tray. Over the next three hours, she told Molly everything she knew about The Abraham Project, who she had met, who the technicians were, the healers and other staff at the clinic, and the local people whom she thought they were helping. She told her about the housing and the work assignments. She told her sister everything she could think of, no matter how small. Every little detail mattered and would help Molly find Michael and stop this horrible operation.

Molly jogged from the Mass Transit Vessel to the track field. The warm-up was enough for her, however, when she stepped onto the field, the other participants were lined up, performing jumping aerobic exercises. She fell in and joined the warming up. Birds of a feather, she mused.

“Listen up,” Coach Ramdha blew his whistle. His thighs and arms were thick, and his shorts and T-shirt were tight, grey, and stretchy. He was shorter in build but perfectly suited for this position. At least he had been twenty years ago. He looked like a retired physical education gym teacher who had let his stomach muscles go.

“We are going to put you through an obstacle course today. You will not be buddied up, however, I want to remind you this is a team effort and how you respond to your struggling team member will be part of your score. The person who scores highest on this exercise will receive a prize.” His eyebrows jumped up and down with an enticement that told Molly the prize had to be lame.

Competitions had been disapproved a century ago as unfair to the weaker athlete who might try just as hard but could never succeed in a brutally competitive environment. Why was he forcing them to strive for a winner?

“Line up over here, and get ready,” the Coach instructed. Fourteen various physiques jogged to the place designated and continued in place. Molly resisted rolling her eyes. She’d never outgrown the gesture. This group certainly had a ways to go, but their attitude impressed her more than she would admit. To anybody.

“On your mark.”

Fourteen figures stopped in place, like a game of freeze tag.

“Get Ready.”

Fourteen casual starter positions were assumed.

“ ... Go!”

Molly jogged effortlessly to the first obstacle.

There were ten rows of ten-foot-long by six-inch wide posts laid horizontal, ten inches off the ground, and eighteen inches apart. The recruits tip-toed through the posts. Pam, short in stature and thirty pounds overweight—mostly in her hips and thighs—tripped and skinned her knee. Nonetheless, she gallantly recovered and rolled off the horizontal posts. She stepped back into the obstacle approximately where she’d fallen out. Each carefully placed step she took was accentuated by a whisper, syllable by syllable chanting, “Yea ... though ... I ... walk ... through ... the ... val ... ley ... of ... death...”

Daniel and Julio jogged backward until they were sure she was moving forward.

The next obstacle was a vertical version of the first. They had to climb the posts and go over the top, then down the other side. Molly reached it first and scaled it with ease. She jogged in place next to the structure and observed her teammates with varying efforts to pull themselves up the posts, swing their legs over, and lower themselves down the other side.

At least four other members, Sonya, Daniel, Julio, and Deuce, were obviously in good physical shape. Sonya was some sort of athlete. Her lean, muscular body had her up and over with impressive agility. What sport did she play? Molly made a mental note to ask. Daniel was short for a guy but appeared to have been a regular in the gym. He pulled himself up and over mostly by his arms. Julio stood nearly six feet and worked construction. He too was muscular and strong. He climbed the tower like a rock climber. Deuce surprised Molly the most. Sure, he was lean looking, but his muscles were linear. Maybe he had been a swimmer? Molly wondered what their stories were prior to becoming pilgrims.

The other nine people made it over, while the five who got over with little effort stood around the obstacle and clapped and cheered. Pam took the longest, but she made it and everyone chanted her name to encourage her over. She half giggled and half cried when her feet touched the ground on the back side of the monster.

Molly patted her back and flashed an encouraging smile. This was an opportunity to practice her missionary spirit. “Praise the Lord. Good job.”

Deuce shoved an elbow into Molly’s side and ran to the next obstacle. Molly stared at his back for a moment. “Oh, no he didn’t!” She ran to catch up.