Chapter 11

Molly’s iComm link sounded. Red letters displaying Mom scrolled across the bottom of her visual range. She touched behind her ear. “Hi, Mom.”

“She’s going home!”

“Kita? Already? Wonderful!”

“I know! She’s doing so much better. I don’t know what you said to her, but—”

“Mom ... it’s because I’m going after this guy!”

Silence.

“Mom.”

“You’re investigating this?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“How far?”

“What do you mean?” Molly swallowed hard. She knew what her mom was asking, but had to stall.

“How far will you have to go? To—to investigate this?”

Molly squeezed her eyes closed. The words would not come.

“You—you’re going to Omicron?” her mother said at last.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Does your father know?” She sounded as if she were hissing.

“Yes ma’am.” Molly cringed. Her mother’s heavy breathing sent chills down her spine.

She finally said, “How—how can he guarantee this doesn’t happen to you?”

“We’re working on that, Mom.” Molly tried to be the adult speaking to an adult. But the child within, the one who feared making her mother mad, wanted to go hide somewhere and wait for Daddy to come home. Why hadn’t he talked to her about this? Why was she hung out in the wind like an old, dirty rug for her mother to beat the information out? Things never change.

“Working on that?” Her mother exhaled the words.

Okay. Molly took a deep breath. If this has been left to her, she would face it head-on. What could her mother do, spank her? It was time to put old baggage aside. She glanced around. Could she call for backup? “Mom, what else can we do? Somebody has to go after this man. He cannot continue to get away with this. It’s immoral. It’s piracy! And I think there’s some kidnapping, too!”

“So—you believe Kita? Her baby is alive?” Molly heard the hitch. Her mother would need time before she could speak again.

“I—I’m a grandmother?” she squeaked at last.

“Yes, Mother, I believe everything Kita said.”

“But, why you?”

“Why not me? I am a civil officer.”

“Yes, but you’re our daughter, and we nearly lost your sister. They cannot do this to us again!”

The prodigal son who had stayed behind. Marti’s cheat sheet sprang to life in her virtual range, “Luke 15:25-31 ‘“The older brother became angry and refused to go in...”

Why did that come to mind? Molly shook her head. “Mom—”

“I won’t stand for it! It nearly killed me when Kita left. I did everything I could to be strong, to be supportive. Look how that turned out. I can’t go through this again, Molly! I just can’t.”

“Mom! Kita’s son is still on that planet. And somebody stole her future ability to have children. They’re pirating the Earth women’s donations. They have to be stopped. And, I’m going to stop them. I’m going to recover what was stolen from Kita and the other women. I’m going—to bring Michael back.”

Silence filled the airwaves. Not the kind of silence that exudes peace. This silence made Molly’s skin crawl. Like when a dog is barking and barking, but suddenly he hunkers down, shows his teeth, and growls a low, deep-in-the-chest growl. That’s the sound that tells you to run. That’s the stifling, thick silence Molly heard in her iComm link.

Finally, her mother snarled, “Then, you go after that bast—” Molly knew her mother was crossing herself. “You go bring my grandson home, and you put that man in the deepest, darkest hole of confinement you can find.”

“I will, Momma.” Molly pressed her teeth together. She refused to cry.

Three months later, Molly stood outside of the boarding lobby. Her parents and Kita stood with her. Tears streamed down their faces.

“Now, you communicate with us as much as you can, honey.” Her mother touched Molly’s hair for the ten thousandth time.

Molly let her mother fidget with her collar and arrange her hair. Her mother needed to touch her before she left for six or seven years.

“I want you to take this.” Her father shoved a worn Bible into her hands. Tears glistened in his eyes.

“Your Bible? Dad, I can’t.” Molly pushed it back toward him.

“No. I want you to have it. I—” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Molly. I insist. I want you to take this, and in times of need, I know it will serve you as keenly as it has served me all these years. Besides, I have made a lot of notes in here. Think of it as another cheat sheet!” He feigned a smile.

Molly cringed. Marti’s cognitive cheat sheet had been more of a nuisance than an asset. “Okay.”

She pulled the gift to her chest and glanced around, trying to control the rebellious tears.

Deuce stood alone. His crutches no longer looked out of place. Had he been anybody other than the head of the project’s son, he would have been removed from the missionary roster. But he was the son. His smile seemed plastic as he acknowledged introductions from other recruits.

The missionaries hugged and kissed their families.

Molly turned to go, also, but Kita grabbed her one more time and kissed her hard on the cheek, “That’s for Michael.” She let go of her twin, and her tear-soaked eyes smiled.

Molly stumbled through the metal doors that led to the transportation vessel. She allowed herself one last fleeting glimpse over her shoulder before the doors closed. The three Jacobsens held each other and stared at her. A vacuum seal sucked the doors locked and set the barrier. This was the proverbial point of no return. Molly swallowed and lifted her chin.

Deuce gracefully swung his crutches and his reinforced ankle down the corridor. Hayden’s hover truck hummed louder than normal under the weight of his and Deuce’s trunks. The two had had some sort of bro-bonding since Deuce’s mishap.

Molly forced her eyes toward the end of the corridor and moved forward. Trunks, suitcases, and hover trucks clicked and hummed as the fourteen walked the long, lonely gangway.

Inside the shuttle, their carry-on luggage was stowed by the flight staff. As seating was established, their voices grew louder. Soon, laughter filled the cabin. Hayden stood in the aisle while bubbly Julie squeezed past him, jabbing him in the ribs for her efforts. Sonya stood at the entry and pretended to be giving a safety lecture. Davidette leaned over the back of her seat talking to Alyce and Reah. Pam leaned over Alyce’s seat to join in on their conversation. Daniel and Julio jabbered in both Spanish and English. They appeared to be so excited, they didn’t realize they were mixing the two languages. Usually, soft spoken, Roma’s and Miriam’s voices carried over the pandemonium. It was as if they all were heading for a weekend of gambling in Neo Las Vegas.

Molly sat at the back and watched the celebration. She caught herself giggling at the antics of her fellow recruits but the jocularity was wasted on her. She sent a message to the chief and then considered writing a quick note to her family, kind of a “last will and salutations” sort of thing. She suppressed the urge. Still, the idea kept resurfacing in her thinking. She updated her investigative journal instead.

Miriam stood in the aisle and read the Bible, book of Exodus, the part where Moses led God’s people out of Egypt. Molly couldn’t control the smile on her face with the thought of Miriam in Moses’ tunic and holding his staff. Miriam was a sweet early-thirties woman who had never married. Small and slender, but she could hold her own. Her hair presented her greatest challenge in life. Taming the long curly locks was an hour-long ritual for her every morning. Probably why, today, she had it submitted into a single braid down her back, nearly reaching her waist. She sang beautifully and led everyone, now, in a song written by a modern spiritual band, “Apple of His Eye,” based on the words she had read moments ago.

Molly updated her journal entry and looked past her virtual screen. Deuce struggled down the aisle.

“Hey, loner!” He gathered his crutches into one hand and hopped sideways to sit down beside her.

Just invite your happy little self over, Dr. Abraham. Molly suppressed the indignant sensation rising in her chest.

He didn’t notice. At least he didn’t act like he noticed. He laid his crutches down along the frame of his seat and buckled his safety belt. Apparently, he was staying. Molly disconnected from her virtual screen, as if he could see what she had been typing, and laid her head back against the headrest. It felt good to close her eyes. They burned from crying. Leaving her family was the second hardest thing she’d ever done. The first was telling Kita goodbye, a little over seven years ago. Visions of Michael, as she imagined him, flashed in her mind. A smile bowed her lips as she thought about him with Kita’s blue eyes and her deep-set dimples. Her nephew. He’d be six by the time she arrived. Molly shook her head with wonder.

“So,” Deuce interrupted Molly’s thoughts. “This is it, huh?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“Look, it’s not gonna be all that bad. Once you get in the hibernation pod, it’ll feel like—”

“I know, Deuce. It’ll feel like I woke up from surgery or a really hard sleep, only it’ll be three years later and with a really funky hangover. Why you so concerned about me?” Molly rolled her eyes over to her intruder.

“Well, you seem to be the only one who’s not celebrating.” Deuce smiled but did not look directly at her. He watched the other twelve pilgrims’ frolics.

Molly watched him. If only he wasn’t Austin Abraham’s son, she might let herself be attracted to him. But knowing his lineage, he was the enemy. No matter how good-looking and compassionate he seemed, he knew something about Kita, and he had not shared that information with her. That, in itself, made him a suspicious person of interest. How much did he know about his father’s operation? That was still a mystery, too. One that Molly would discover, or die trying. With that thought, she fought the urge to write that will and salutations again.

“Listen, if it would make you feel any better, I’m not going into hibernation right away.”

Molly stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“The ankle is not completely healed. If I go into hibernation now, I’ll still have to heal once we land. I’m going to stay awake, follow through with my physical therapy, read some books, do some star gazing, you know. And when my ankle is healed, then I’ll go into stasis.” His smile seemed warm, genuine.

“Really? I didn’t know this. I—I’ll stay awake, too. You’ll need company. You shouldn’t be the only human being awake for, what—?”

“Six weeks ... to three months, actually.” Deuce’s smile faded. “But why would you want to stay awake? With me?”

“I’m not going into stasis until everybody’s in. That’s the fine print in my contract. Call it what you will, but I don’t trust anybody, especially”—She swallowed—”well, I’ll go under after you go.”