Its importance was real. We all believed in his mission.
Dinah pulled a high-backed stool from her workstation up next to mine. The wheels easily glided across the smooth cement floor. “Do you want to read or enter?”
I pulled the correct screen back up on the computer. “I’ll enter. You read. Start with yesterday’s production . . .”
It was only a few minutes past ten when Dinah stopped reading and asked, “Sara, how did you know how to get out of our program? I mean, we don’t know any of the passwords.”
As I tried to recall, the memory was a blur, as if someone else had taken control of my movements. My lip disappeared between my teeth. I wasn’t trying to be deceitful or cunning. What I’d wanted to do was to help, to figure out why the weights weren’t matching. Finally I replied, “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
It wasn’t like me to be secretive, but as I answered, I willingly shadowed the truth in ambiguity. Brother Benjamin had created this program. I recalled entering Raquel’s name and 05. Raquel had told me once that she and Benjamin had been together here at the Northern Light for five years. It was a guess, but I’d been correct on the first attempt. From that moment on, I hadn’t thought, I’d just clicked and scrolled as if propelled by a sense of inquisitiveness that felt familiar yet foreign.
I replied to Dinah the way I did because if I confessed to Brother Benjamin that I’d been outside my program and he changed the password, I’d never be able to go outside it again. And though my conscience weighed heavily upon me, the yearning to keep access and learn more was too strong to ignore. Therefore, as we worked to complete my early-morning duty, I simultaneously contrived a way to confess without disclosing everything.
As the last number was entered, the door to the lab opened and Brother Benjamin came inside. The summer months at the Northern Light required less outerwear than the cold, dark months. Brother Benjamin hung his light jacket on the row of hooks near the door and ran his hand through his hair.
“Good morning, Sisters.”
“Good morning, Brother Benjamin,” we answered in unison.
His brow was furrowed as if he were deep in thought. I knew that things had been stressful with the Assembly lately, and Jacob had been spending more and more time away at other campuses. I didn’t know the particulars, only that it had something to do with Xavier, The Light’s other pilot, being ill, and a new pilot helping.
Swallowing my shame at my unusual bout of disobedience as well as an unusual, overwhelming desire to hide my behavior, I nodded to Dinah, who squeezed my hand. “Brother Benjamin,” I said, “may I speak to you about something?”
The creases in his forehead deepened. “Is this a private matter? Would you like me to call Jacob?”
My natural reaction was to shake my head, yet my training was too strong. I lowered my eyes. “If it’s your will. In the meantime I’d like to tell you about something that happened this morning.”
With my head down, I couldn’t see his expression.
“Sister Dinah, would you go to the coffee shop and get three coffees?”
My chest heaved at his calm tone. This was my chance. If I confessed outside of Dinah’s hearing, I could do it without admitting to everything.
“Yes, Brother,” she said, giving my hand another squeeze.
Once the door closed, Brother Benjamin asked me to continue.
I lifted my gaze. “This morning, I was entering the data like I always do. Well, the products, batch 3F789, the weight seemed wrong.”
His lips formed a straight line.
“I know it isn’t my place to question. I’m not questioning.” Silently I said a prayer to Father Gabriel that Brother Benjamin wouldn’t tell Jacob I had been questioning. “It was an observation. I went back to previous orders. The weight isn’t off by much, but it’s not the same. If the quantity is equal, the weight should be too.”
Though I waited for his reprimand, it never came. Instead he said, “Show me.”
I nodded, swallowing what little saliva I could muster, and walked back to my workstation. The report with the data we’d successfully entered was on my screen as I moved the mouse and brought my computer to life. I pointed to the numbers. Brother Benjamin stepped closer and stared at the screen. Without asking he took my mouse and began clicking and accessing past reports. The entire time I stood motionless, afraid that he would look at the search history and learn that I’d accessed information outside my scope.
It was bad enough that I’d done it, but to not confess and be caught would be worse.
“Sara, copy and send me the last three weeks of reports on 3F789. I know you have other work to do, and I don’t want to take your computer.”
“Brother, I’m sorry if . . .”
“Don’t be sorry.” He sounded genuine. “This is Father Gabriel’s vision. We don’t want there to be a problem.”
My exhalation of relief filled the lab.