As soon as my gaze was met by Brother Timothy’s, I knew that I wouldn’t confess my show of affection. I couldn’t risk it, not as long as Sara was vulnerable. With Brother Timothy’s eyes on me, I refused to show or admit to weakness.
I’d never understood the animosity that glowed in his eyes. When I’d first arrived at the Northern Light nearly three years before, he and Sister Lilith were the only unwelcoming followers. With time I’d learned to ignore them. Their enmity didn’t affect my goal. Even after being appointed to the Assembly, I was able to ignore them.
Suddenly the thought crossed my mind: the Commission had assigned Sara to me.
Was I assigned Sara to fail? Does Brother Timothy dislike me so much as to capitalize on this unfamiliar assignment? Will Sara undo my success?
I forced myself to concentrate on the words spoken around me. The Assemblymen had begun reading their daily reports. We each had a specific topic, and since each topic was approached daily, the reports were often quick. It was a good way to keep the Assembly, the Commission, and Father Gabriel current on the overall status of the community.
My primary job for The Light was as one of the pilots. I transported Father Gabriel from campus to campus and flew supplies to the Northern Light. My military training had been significant in preparing me for The Light. Most importantly, I’d flown a C-12A in and out of Iraq, and also, I thrived under the regimented life. Taking and giving orders, as well as following and implementing rules, were my forte.
As an Assemblyman I was to oversee and settle disputes. Father Gabriel required cohesive living on all his campuses. Everyone’s behavior was continually monitored. Any disobedience was brought to me. If I believed the behavior warranted correction, I took the offense to the Commission. If the Commission forwarded it to Father Gabriel, the usual course of action was public correction. Banishment was the ultimate punishment. Simply the knowledge that such punishments were possible served as a powerful deterrent.
Brother Raphael, the longest-standing Commissioner, conducted the morning meetings. At the Northern Light he was second in reverence only to Father Gabriel. His deep voice reverberated through the conference room. “Brother Jacob, please share your report.”
I stood and addressed the Commission and Assembly. After my report was complete, he asked Brother Luke about some new followers. Luke and his wife Elizabeth were responsible for all new followers at the Northern Light.
Luke went on, talking about a husband and wife who’d come to The Light, how they were progressing well with their training and would soon be granted an apartment. Brother Raphael went on to ask the Assemblyman in charge of housing how soon an apartment would be ready. As they discussed the possible housing and job assignments for this new couple, the temperature of the room seemed to rise and my palms moistened. Though I knew Sara was the next topic of conversation, I tried to think of anything else. The way Brother Raphael had retained his Boston accent through all the years. The way Luke’s back straightened with pride as he spoke about the new followers’ success.
My eyes met Brother Timothy’s and his cold glare interrupted my thoughts. Purposely I moved my gaze to Brother Daniel’s face and took in its approving shine. As my overseer, Brother Daniel had repeatedly put his trust in me and my abilities.
Damn, I have to do this. I won’t fail him or add fuel to Brother Timothy’s dislike.
“Brother Jacob,” Brother Raphael said. “I could ask Brother Luke, but let’s skip ahead. Your new wife is awake. Please tell us how things are progressing at the clinic, and if you believe we have any problems or glitches with her progress.”
I stood again and inhaled, my usual confidence waning. If I didn’t say something about my unease, I feared it’d be noticed. I needed to tackle the subject head on. “I apologize for my less-than-stellar presentation. I’ve spent the last ten nights sleeping in a chair, my head on the end of Sara’s bed.” I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s less than conducive to a good night’s sleep. If my demeanor seems off, I plead matrimonial insomnia.”
Benjamin laughed, breaking my mounting tension and coming to my rescue. “No, Brother Jacob, in another month we can rib you about matrimonial insomnia; now you’re just exhausted. At least in a month you’ll have a smile.” Laughter came from all around the table before Benjamin continued, “Raquel told me about your wife. It sounds as though she’s coming along.”
I nodded, eternally grateful for the change in formality. “Being in this position is considerably different from training someone for it. Currently Sister Lilith”—I turned toward my nemesis—“thank you, Brother Timothy, currently Sister Lilith is beginning Sara’s training.”
“Why?” Brother Raphael spoke sharply.