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Amo Obib saw the two proposals on his desk and read them. He was in dilemma. As a layman, Proposal One, the radical approached, strongly appealed to him. It was the shortest and surest solution to their problem. But he could not reconcile its theological implications---breaking God’s law. He decided to go on a retreat and used the Command Center. It was appropriate for his purpose---it was isolated.

  In the absence of the hibernating capsules on the side walls and the gallery seats that used to be at the rear, the only thing in the room was the Command Chair. With no ship command to execute, he sat on the floor and leaned on its wall. He reread the two proposals and, after, had Goopersh turn off the light.

  In total darkness, the battle in his mind commenced: logic against faith; assurance versus hope, prayers opposed to action. Logic told him to take the radical approach, Proposal One. It assured their civilization’s survival. It was the straight-forward solution to their problem and it tortured him to argue against it. But he was head of their church, God's representative to the material world. He must not think as a mortal but as a god! Many times, he begged for God's help, for Him to speak. He listened but heard only his breathing in the dark silent room. At some moments, he thought himself going crazy. The theological dogma, ‘The end does not justify the means professes that you cannot do evil to accomplish something good. This dogma kept on resounding in his mind and could not stop himself from hearing it. The longer he deliberated, the louder it got until near the end of the second day, when it became so unbearable, he threw the proposals and cried out to the darkness, “My God, should I place more value to faith and hope when the lives of thousands rest on it? Do I have the power to decide the risk they must take or whether they should live or die? Must I take the hard way to please you? Does my conscience belong to me or to you? Speak to me . . . please speak to me,” then passed out.

  The Dream

  In a lightless room and asleep on the floor, Amo Obib dreamed of lying on grass under a large fern tree in a meadow. He felt the breeze fan his face; saw colorful insects fly about; smelled the mixture of sweet fragrances of flowers in the air when out of nowhere Amo Tasiyo appeared in his dream. He saw Amo Tasiyo hold a folder; kneel by his side; place the folder alongside on the ground; and whisper to his ear:

  “My son, the fate of our church and the Rian civilization is in your hands. Decide for its good, and with God forever in your heart, you will never make a mistake. Remember above all, God and all of Ria are behind you. If the time comes when you must decide the fate of your brothers and sisters, remember what I just told you.”

  He woke soon after and found himself alone in the dark. Desperate for an answer, he groped immediately the floor around. There was no folder! Like an insane man, he wildly swept the floor with his hands in the dark crawling about madly until he touched one; clasped it to his chest; and said, “God, I pray this is the right folder. For when I leave this room, I will implement whatever proposal is in it. I pray you will leave some sign to prove it was you who placed it in my hand.” He stepped out of the room with the folder clasped to his chest and firmly believed the dream was God's way to communicate. It took time for his eyes to get accustomed to the lighted hallway. When it did, and against his wish, he saw Proposal Two, act as a catalyst!

  It was late in the evening when Amo Obib left the Command Center and went a level down. He was weary, his mind in turmoil. He walked in Karmar's office cubicle and placed the folder squarely on the desk. With heavy heart, he took the desk pen and boldly wrote on Proposal Two’s cover---‘IMPLEMENT’, and signed it. He then proceeded to their bedroom using the elevator shaft and the ladders as he did before.

  Ningning was asleep. Except for her head, her entire body was under a white blanket when Amo Obib entered their room. She woke in spite of his best effort to be quiet. They greeted each other in whispers.

  “Have you eaten?” Ningning asked in a low voice as she stood and straightened her nightgown.

  “No,” he answered through a parch voice.

  “Let's go to the kitchen. There's food ready for you that only needs warming.”

  Tired, drained, he nodded.

  “You have been in retreat for almost two days,” Ningning said as she led him by his arm.

  “That long?” Amo Obib looked genuinely surprised.

  She echoed, “That long,” and continued, “The training of the twenty to perform the minor surgery was easy and done. The scheduled . . .,” she updated him on their progress during his absence but unsure if the amo listened. When they got to the kitchen, she seated him by the small worktable then lit the gas range nearby. He glanced at him. He looked tired, wasted, in another world.

  Amo Obib momentarily shook himself out of his quandary and watched her warm his food; stir the brew with a ladle; and thought how fortunate he was for the Elders to have chosen her as his wife. She was always there when he needed her and he felt guilty for being impolite---he paid no attention to what she said on their way down. He could not shake out what was in his mind. There was still time to change his decision and replace the folder!

  Ningning glanced at the amo---he was in his own thoughts. In a hoped to take his mind away from what he was thinking, at least for the moment, she said as she stirred the soup, “I always wondered how this gas cooking range works each time I lighted it but never occurred to ask.”

  The question got amo's attention. “Methane gas, a gas byproduct of fermented animal dung.”

  “Animal dung?” she exclaimed, “I hope you wouldn't mind having your food cooked and warmed by some shit.” To her relief, Amo Obib laughed and they started to make funny conversation on the subject.

  Amo Obib moved his chair to face Ningning as she prepared his food. Curious, he asked, “When did you join the church?”

  “Four years ago. And you?”

  “I came in a year earlier. Do you know that we met before I joined the church?” Amo Obib casually said.

  Ningning was surprised he remembered. “Mia introduced us at a symposium held at Lanang State University,” she said cheerfully as she stirred the soup.

  After a momentary reflection, Amo Obib said, “I don’t remember Mia but remember being dragged out from our conversation. When I came back, you were gone.”

  “I was there and even saw you pass obviously looking for someone.”

  Somewhat disappointed, he asked, “Why didn't you call my attention?”

  “How was I supposed to know you were looking for me?” she teased, “Why me? There were prettier women there just waiting to catch the most eligible bachelor around.”

  Stunned by her remark, Amo Obib reacted, “I know nothing of being the most eligible bachelor,” stressing the words with a grin. “I enjoyed our conversation . . . your company. Honestly, I was captivated by your charm. Visiting you crossed my mind but never got your address, and all I had was your first name, Ningning. Lovely name by the way. I was distracted at that moment by someone that I miss hearing your last name.”

  Ningning’s eyes sparkled as she grinned to herself with a glint in her eyes. Flattered, she continued, “It’s Aguir,” then teased but serious, “You’re just being nice since you had no choice in our marriage. But I will tell you a secret . . . I had a crush on you even before we met.” After a quick thought added, “You did not search hard. I was there all the time and, honestly, eagerly waiting for you,” she said with dismay.

  Not knowing how to explain his misgiving replied, “The important thing is we are together now. I did found you attractive, intelligent, and pleasant to be with.”

  “You did!” Ningning exclaimed, her face blushed. She was thrilled and had forgotten what her objective was.

  Amo Obib looked at her, and with a wide smile on his face, he said, “I did.”

  Ningning smiled back as wide as his then brought the warmed food and placed it on the table. She gave Amo Obib a spoon made from seashell with a bamboo handle. She took a stemmed flower from a bamboo vase by the sink and laid it beside his plate
as he ate. “I'm glad you told me. I was beginning to think our relationship would be platonic.” She took a wooden stool, placed it at the adjacent corner of the table, and sat. As would any woman wanting assurance asked, “If I really made an impression on you, what did we talk on?” Not recalling the topic, immediately followed, “What was the color of my dress?”

  “The topic of the conversation was theology. The color of your dress, light blue, and you wore a brooch of a colorful butterfly,” Amo Obib answered in rapid succession.

  She gave it a thought. She recalled the dress and brooch but not the topic but believed him this time. She stood and lightly kissed the top of his head then gently massaged his shoulder muscles. “It is strange how fate brought us together,” she said.

  “That is so true . . . All these things happening to me . . . It’s as though I am drawn to follow a course. For what purpose, I wonder,” he said then his mind went back to the unresolved issue. ‘There is time to change my decision,’ he said to himself and began thinking on it again.

  Ningning sensed Amo Obib's mood changed. He was quiet, deafeningly quiet. “Do you want to talk on something else?” she asked, hoping she could help as she continued to massage his tense shoulder muscles.

  He hesitated then said, “You strike me as someone who knows God . . . of how one should act or think before Him. Women are said to be closer to Him than men,” Amo Obib paused as he tried to figure how to phrase a question without involving her to the issue.

  From the sound of Amo Obib’s voice, Ningning sensed he was troubled. “Have you made a decision on what we should do?” she went straight to the point.

  Amo Obib was taken aback by her bluntness. “Indirectly,” he confessed. “The approved proposal is on Karmar's desk yet I am not sure if it is right one. I have never been like this before. I was always sure of myself especially on making decisions. But this is very different.”

  “How so?” Ningning asked as she continued to massage his shoulder muscles.

  Amo Obib talked on faith in general. Ningning listened intently as he explained the issues between faith and logic without relating it to the signed proposal. He was unaware Ningning related what he said to what Karmar revealed to her the day before on the two proposals submitted. Being perceptive, she worried. She knew Amo Obib was more inclined to be logical, objective, and realistic in his manner of thinking. She strongly felt Proposal One, to radically alter the genes, was wrong but could not reason why.

  When Amo Obib felt, he had said enough on the subject, asked, “Will you entrust your life to me?” He turned his head and looked at her praying to find an indirect answer to what troubled him.

  Ningning stopped massaging. She gave the question a serious thought. She then sat, held his hand, and looked him in the eyes. “To you as a person, I will not,” she said in a serious but caring tone of voice. “My life belongs to God and only to God. I believe in Him and will give my life to protect my faith and others’ faith in Him. As the Amo, you are His instrument. I leave my life in your hands to prove my faith in Him through you,” she paused then continued in a sweet soft voice, “My husband, when you must act as an amo, as you have to, you are no longer yourself as you see yourself. At that moment, the Obib who dreamed of Rians exploring the universe to help other civilizations; the gifted biochemist and genetic engineer, that Obib no longer exist. As amo, you are with God and through you, God speaks. As I prove my faith in Him through you, as amo, prove your faith in Him through me. Remember what God said when the first amo, Amo Lam-a, wavered in his faith? He said, 'Have faith in Me and I will bring you to paradise.’”

  From Ningning’s reply, everything started to make sense and the mist of uncertainty in his mind dissipated. He did not realize his role in the world that had changed so quickly and completely for him to adapt. He began to relax and at peace with himself. He held and gently squeezed her hand on his hand and said, “Our fate must have been ordained in heaven. I praise the Lord for that.”

  GOD’S SIDE

  Assurance to Whom?

  There was one minor modification Karmar added to the proposal that Amo Obib approved. For identification purposes, the whites on the modified ape’s eyes were made pronounced to visually distinguish the modified apes from the other apes at its early stage.

  Late in the evening, a day before the implementation of Proposal Two, Karmar stood under the shadow of darkness beyond Amo Obib's view as the amo swept the aisles of the machine shop. Karmar had not slept well since Amo Obib made the decision. He watched and waited for the amo to finish his day’s chores and admired him from the distance. ‘There he is,’ he said to himself, ‘our leader in the most crucial time of their civilization doing his last nightly chore, cleaning floors. The amo, with Ningning, woke the earliest and slept the latest. Everyone worked hard but none harder than the two. Acting as parents to thirty-four grownup children---making sure they are fine and as comfortable as they can be. Everyone tried their best to make things easier for them but so many things needed doing and, somehow, the two always found them. In spite of that, they are the driving forces behind their endurance, the pillars that supported their hope, the power behind their little civilization.’

  Amo Obib heard footsteps as he washed his hands. He turned and before Karmar could greet, greeted, “Naska is Imar, Karmar. Isn't it late for you to be walking around?” he asked cheerfully.

  Focused on what he intended to say, Karmar ignored the question, “Naska is Imar. My Amo,” he responded then spoke in an uncomfortable manner, “I would like to speak to you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Please,” Amo Obib said formally as Karmar was so serious. He hastily wiped his hands with a towel then led Karmar near a lumber pile where they found something to sit on.

  Karmar started as they sat on a lumber facing each other, “You and Ningning are working too hard.”

  Amo Obib could tell that Karmar was troubled but not by the work Ningning and he did but of what they will do tomorrow. “You did not come here to see me about that, did you?” the amo asked nicely with a grin.

  “No, but everyone is clamoring for someone to talk to you and Ningning on the matter. It might as well be me.”

  “I really appreciate everyone's concern. I am fine. However, you talk to Ningning. You might have better luck,” he said then continued, “So, what is really bothering you,” he asked in a fatherly way.

  “Is it possible My Amo . . . that you did not fully consider Proposal One?” Karmar said with unease.

  “I wondered when you'd come to that.”

  “It is not only I, Norm thinks Proposal One is better. It solves all our problems. I will not be disobedient, My Amo, but I am troubled.”

  Amo Obib did not respond but waited for Karmar to pour out what troubled him.

  Karmar took a deep breath and as though reading an imaginary script said, “As Project Head, I feel it's my duty to speak. I recommend we take Proposal One. We can do a number of . . .” Karmar continued to defend Proposal One injecting variations to make it attractive. At its end said in a very concerned voice, “My Amo, there is no assurance of success and will most likely fail on the proposal we will carry out tomorrow.”

  “Assurance to whom?” Amo Obib asked in a priestly manner.

  “My Amo, over two-hundred-fifty thousand are relying on us to save them,” he said in a pleading tone. “You surely must have undermined the risk associated on the proposal you approved and the advantages of the other.”

  Amo Obib was unsure if Karmar purposely evaded his question or just missed it completely. He repeated, “Assurance to whom? However, do not answer the question but think of it instead. Karmar . . ., I did consider very seriously Proposal One. If it be of any consolation, it is one of the best proposal papers I have read. You did an exceptionally good job.” Amo Obib knew Norm’s conclusion was based on the wrong premise---that he did not consider it well or at all. Telling him now that he did, Norm must think for himself -- why?

  “Amo-o-o,�
�� Ningning called out in search from a distance.

  “Over here,” Amo Obib cried out as he and Karmar stood and walked to meet her.

  When they got near each other, Karmar said, “Naska is Imar, Ningning.”

  “Naska is Imar, Karmar,” she responded. Looking at them with a smile, she added, in her natural sweet way, “Should I go ahead and leave you two to men's talk?”

  “Oh, no,” Amo Obib replied. “In fact, Karmar has something to say on your working too hard. Go ahead, Karmar. Tell her,” he eagerly prodded.

  Karmar looked at Amo Obib somehow saying without words that they should discuss the issue further. However, the situation had changed. He looked at Ningning and talked to her on the work she did as they leisurely walked toward their sleeping quarters at the second floor.

  Amo Obib observed Karmar as Karmar talked to Ningning. He knew how Karmar felt. He saw Karmar as himself years ago, as a layman. Recalled handing leaflets and made speeches on space exploration for the good of other civilizations and on the genetic research restrictions to what he perceived were blind, deaf, and coward audience. Of the frustrations and disappointments, he went through during those years. He could not give Karmar the answer directly though he wished he could. He knew providing the answer and appreciating it were two different things. Karmar must find it for himself, in himself. His part was merely to plant a seed in Karmar's mind and pray it will grow to answer his own questions and doubts.

  He listened as Karmar tried hard to convince Ningning to work less. He realized his Ningning was not only sweet but stubborn and equally determined and convincing as to why she should not change her work habits. When they got to Amo Obib and Ningning's sleeping quarter, Amo Obib told Ningning he would walk Karmar to his room.

  Ningning and Karmar bade each other good night.

  Amo Obib and Karmar walked slower than normal. Amo Obib started, “The proposal I approved assures us success. Karmar . . . we must always see things through God's eyes. That is why Ria was a paradise. There are other things more important than life and one life or a million lives makes no difference. Whatever the outcome, we will succeed. Do you know why?”

  Karmar stayed silent as he tried to understand what amo meant. Grappling on a statement he could not comprehend, he honestly confessed, “No, My Amo.”

  “Because we are on God's side,” he purposely paused then continued, “If we succeeded on Proposal One and Rian civilization flourished, we failed, more so the people we helped. And, if we failed on Proposal Two when all of us here die and the Rian civilization ends, we succeeded.” Amo Obib paused again hoping his words would sink in Karmar’s mind then repeated, “Because we are on God's side,” stressing more the words this time as he looked at him. He saw in Karmar’s face that Karmar had something he must say. With no signs of rushing, he waited for his response.

  “I am so glad we talked,” Karmar finally spoke and sounded relieved. “I now see things from where I . . . or we should stand. We must always be on God's side. How myopic of me. Will you forgive me?”

  Amo Obib tapped Karmar's shoulder. “There is nothing to forgive. You followed your conscience and there is nothing wrong with that. Naska is Imar, Karmar,” and watched him enter his room.

  As Amo Obib walked back to his room, he saw Karmar grinning in his mind as they bade each other goodnight. Humbly, he said, ‘Dear God, thank you so much for your help.’