Into the Light (The Light #1)

Our campus in Alaska was one of three campuses of The Light. Ours, the Northern Light, was the largest and the most productive, but Father Gabriel’s leadership was needed at all campuses. Because of this he often traveled. Though all the communities lived modestly, The Light possessed the latest technology. With protected webinars and teleconferencing, and because of different time zones, it didn’t matter where Father Gabriel was on any given day. He was always able to attend the morning Assembly of each campus.

Whether he was with us, or somewhere else, his aura of authority filled the room.

There were four commissioners at each campus, making up Father Gabriel’s circle of twelve disciples. These were Father Gabriel’s inner sanctum, the men he most trusted. Under the Commissioners there were twelve Assemblymen at each campus. The Assemblymen shared the Commissioners’ burdens and were fully accountable to them. These sixteen men and their wives were the chosen of each campus. The system Father Gabriel put into place worked well to govern The Light and was especially efficient when he was away and as the campuses continued to grow.

At last census the Northern Light had over 450 followers who all lived, worshipped, and worked for Father Gabriel and The Light. The Western Light had nearly three hundred, and the Eastern Light, the first campus, had over one hundred. The Eastern Light purposely remained small due to its urban location. It had neither the space nor the isolation of the Northern and Western Light communities. The Eastern Light served primarily as the point of entry for many of the followers. Once they were tested and found acceptable, they were assigned to one of the larger campuses. Assignment was usually based on the follower’s abilities as well as the needs of each campus.

As Father Gabriel’s voice transcended the miles and his prayer wished blessings on our souls, my thoughts returned to Sara, to Sister Lilith’s intentions, and Sara’s healing.

This is wrong. My body and mind should be focused on Father Gabriel.

Internal conflict was one reason I’d resisted the assignment of a wife. Another reason was my desire to succeed. Throughout my life, no matter the endeavor—from the military to The Light—my goal had always been success. With the addition of a wife, everything changed. For the first time, success wasn’t contingent only upon me, but also upon Sara.

Before the Commission assigned a follower a wife, especially one in need of indoctrination, the husband-to-be received training. As a member of the Assembly, I’d been involved with many trainings. I knew the strict protocol and what was expected.

Since my assignment to the Assembly nearly a year ago, I’d listened to followers who claimed to be having difficulty with the indoctrination protocol. From my lofty position, I’d piously remind those followers that they were but a part of Father Gabriel’s body of believers, as were their new wives, and all parts of the body must work together. I’d said, “We’ve been taught that if something causes us to lose our way, we must remove it. It’s written that if your eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out. It’s better to enter the kingdom of Light with only one eye than to be cast out.” Then I’d ask, “Is your new wife causing you to lose your way, to forget Father Gabriel’s teachings, or will you be able to control her and help her become a productive member of the body?”

Though everyone claimed they’d succeed, there were failures. Insubordinate members of the body were banished and removed—the ultimate penalty, paid with the ultimate price. My head knew the answers. Hell, I’d said the answers. I also knew the consequences.

However, now, for the first time in my memory, I felt conflicted. I was supposed to train and rule Sara, yet in a very short time, even without her eyes and with a limited ability to speak, she’d developed a power over me. When she’d asked me about my asking her to marry me, I was taken aback, and when her hands trembled at the mere thought of my correction, my stomach turned. Kissing her hand was a reflex. I didn’t consider the penalties. I knew the prescribed timetable. At this point my affection was to be limited and nonsexual. The touching of her hair and even platonic kisses to her head were acceptable, but not affection or comfort, not yet.

As Father Gabriel concluded the opening prayer, guilt tugged at my conscience, and I contemplated confessing my affectionate behavior. The only thing stopping me was concern regarding punishment. I didn’t worry about myself; I never had. I was a firm believer that if I did wrong, I deserved correction. I’d never expected less of myself than I did of my subordinates. Everyone was accountable.

Now was different. Though I hadn’t planned on it, nor wanted it, now I cared. I cared about someone other than myself. I knew what Sara had endured and what was still to come.

“. . . blessed by me, Father Gabriel, The Light of our God. Amen.”

“Amen,” came resoundingly from all sixteen men around the large conference table. I scanned the eyes around me.

Do they also have these conflicting thoughts or is it just me?