"Well, Rocketfellows, it seems my words were a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. This very planet, now designated as Arco by the Motherland, has seen leave of one-third of our forces into the Promise. A number of ten, besides the pilots of course, do we return back home."

 Jiho remained quiet as she adjusted her booth for a more comfortable ride back home. The door of the craft fitted itself back into place as Wonho gestured his hands in a placating motion. His post was now to calm his men whose very excitement at the sight of the exit hatch closing shook the ship.

 "How can they reach the Promise from this far off planet?!" one of them demanded.

 "Calm down, Rocketfellow!"  

 Like a weaned child the soldier stood down before the mighty voice of rushing waters. 

 "The Promise," Wonho continued in a more forgiving tone, "is a place that transcends our imagination. Its reach stretches beyond the Iacobus Gate. Anywhere and at anytime, when the Motherland grants admission, can the invited partake of that sweet world. Trust in the Motherland, Rocketfellow."

 "All settled, Wonho?" the pilot questioned through the loudspeakers.

 "Set for takeoff."

 Jiho paid half attention to the argument. She had a job of her own, to make sure her reptilian ward remained secure in its booth next to hers. It was now of great importance, selected as ambassador of Arco to be brought back home to the Motherland so foreign relations could be established between both planets. 

Once done fastening the straps, she leaned against the narrow partition of her seat and asked herself whether the male voice she heard relay words of cruelty was but a figment of her imagination. She had experienced much in the days past, so perhaps it was mental fatigue. At the same time the subtle hint of hostility those words, I hate you, transmitted could not be dismissed. Even now she shuddered at the thought of it.

What she no longer shivered at was the idea of Death and Decay. The two mysterious entities now lodged in the realm of childhood for her, that tender age where at once anything can become a boogeyman. For a full week following her first victory she had blasted countless aliens into their own version of the Promise and those two monsters never appeared. It was all a painless process, too; there was no sign of injury in the recipients of her fire; some cries, yes, but any member of a family would cry if they were left behind.

Each cry she heard stung her heart, shook her brains. The thought of a family being ripped apart even if for a single moment squeezed the oxygen out of her lungs. How would she feel if she were in their place? Exiled and isolated from her own mother, a deep gulf inbetween the two of them? It was a haunting thought because it was quite possible, too real for own comfort, except that she found solace in her mother's oath to stop taking the pills, thus delaying her voyage to the Promise.

 Nonetheless, it was those feelings behind the thought that prompted Jiho to take it upon herself to issue volley after volley of rapid fire- so all the ones she shot could join each other in paradise with little to no delay. She had become a wizard at the rifle. Indeed, her firearms were extensions of her body thanks to the wonderful device piercing her belly button, the Source.

Her eyelids became heavy as her surroundings became like a gray haze. She closed her eyes and slept, hoping that by the time she awakened she would see her mother waiting for her back home. 

Soft was her mother's lilt, a lullaby that stirred peace in her weary soul. 

 "Get up," she told Jiho with a tug on her bedsheets.

It was morning, a pleasant breeze sweeping her face as she sprawled her limbs.

 Now the reverie shattered: "I hate you," spoke a male voice.

Jiho convulsed. As though drowning she gasped for air, her eyes darting in every direction to behold her true location: she was still aboard the ship. No one minded her, not even her reptilian neighbor, for they were all asleep. She groaned at the thought of the nightmare, wondering if there was meaning attached to it as she gazed at the immensity of space beyond the window. Then there was the repetition of the frigid words, "I hate you." to brood upon.

 Time passed without her knowing so that by the time she yearned to close her eyes and attempt to sleep again, the lights intensified and the pilot announced their proximity to the Motherland.

 "We hit land in twenty minutes or so, Rocketfellows."

It was a smooth landing for the troop, in fact the whole of their mission had gone as smooth as any would've wanted. All that remained now was for them to disembark and leave, each one to their home. Of course, just before the hatch opened, Wonho had to call for their attention and delay them some minutes.

 "Remember, troop, with the Source firmly attached, you don't have to eat. Just place the nourishment capsule you have stored on the sides of your belt level with the main circle of the Source and you will receive all the nutrients you need. You can still dine purely to satiate your cravings or out of courtesy, but it's no longer needed. And take care of that wonderful instrument, too! It's as much a part of you as you are a part of the Motherland," he added with an emphatic note.

All nodded in agreement and with that, Jiho was free to disengage her armor by pressing on the sides of the device that transfixed her navel, the Source. What a magical tool it was, all her metal accoutrements vanishing like vapor in the span of a moment, leaving her to breathe in actual air with her own nostrils for the first time in two weeks. For another moment she stood wondering why she attracted her male peers' attention. They stared weirdly at her too, as though under a type of spell.

Suddenly, she recognized the fact that her undersuit was form-fitting, clinging to her body like a second layer of skin so that her contours were on clear display. She was visited by shame and hugged herself. Had not Wonho ordered the door to finally open and for the male soldiers to leave first, she may have cried from the indignity.

 "Forgive them," Wonho said with a stoic look. "These are unmarried men who know* not a woman, therefore their curiosity is yet a detriment to the advancement of virtue."

 "I understand," she mumbled as she squeezed herself tighter.

 "Next time, I'll have you disengage in a place with women... Come now," he said to the reptile alien they had brought back.

Standing idle, she observed Wonho carefully undo the straps on the alien and lead it by the hand toward the exit. The great eyes of the creature lingered on Jiho. Without warning, she held onto its extended claw.

 "Where is it going?" she quickly asked. "Wasn't he my ward?"

 "He's in my care now. And as for your first query, why you already know, Rocketfellow. To establish friendly relations with his planet," Wonho replied with a quizzical look.

Jiho let go of the alien and nodded. Why should she doubt his words? Then, at his insistence, she ran inside the nearest building and waited in an isolated room to have her belongings be brought to her. No more than ten minutes passed when a knock on her door gave her a welcome surprise. At one point she may have felt lukewarm about her visitor, but not now. After the leers she received, she needed a female companion, someone she could feel safe with.

 "Jiho!" Jennie exclaimed while shutting the door behind her.

The Rocketfellow felt the urge to hug her but restrained herself. She didn't want to be looked down upon by someone she had felt pity for in the past.

 "Yeah, it's me. Nice to see you again, Jennie. You brought my clothes? I can't go out like this."

 Jennie scanned her and quickly agreed. As soon as she was dressed, she hurled a litany of questions at her concerning the experience of outer space and the service of a soldier. 

 "But what are you doing here?" Jiho asked after answering each question.

 "Oh! I work here. I was assigned to work here in the Inner Circle, not the city. But I did ask about your mom's car on my way to work one day."

 "What about it?"

 "She no longer has permission to drive it; maybe its engine is faulty."

 "Maybe," Jiho replied with an aloof look, "it is old. It's been around as long as I can remember."

Jennie reclined against the wall as she quietly observed Jiho loose her hair from the bun it was tied in. Now that she noticed, there was grace in her movements; perhaps it was her thin limbs or the milky color of her skin. Or was it the brown eyes that sparked amber under the bar of light? She just had to share her thoughts.

 "You're quite pretty, Jiho. I'm sure you'll make an excellent bride and that your husband will be quite proud of you."

 Her eyes somber and set to her toes, she answered with a listless tone, "Marriage? I don't want to think about it for now. My mother is family enough."

 "I guess you're right- but we can get chosen for marriage at any time; today, tomorrow- ten years from now. Whenever the Motherland chooses... I hope my husband is more family than my father. He just rocks in his chair all day..."

 The room felt hotter now. It was a storage place that was in all respects rather roomy despite cleaning supplies stacked up to the ceiling, but a dreary sense of heat suffused the room. Jiho was feeling claustrophobic. The perpetrator behind this odd, choking atmosphere was Jennie. Her cheeks sagged as she rested her chin on her fist. She was drowning in melancholy, no longer chirping but silent.

 "I'm sure he'll be told to enter the Promise soon. He'll be happy there with your mom and all others he misses."

 "How'd you know it was because my mom departed that he sits like a sad dog?"

 "It's just a feeling- wouldn't you be sad if you were left behind?"

  "At least then I'd have a nice hobby of lounging around all day, wouldn't I?" Jennie laughed.

After leaving the room, they walked together at a leisurely pace toward the bus station outside the giant confines of the Inner Circle. While Jiho may have relished the idea of running to the station, she felt compelled to slow down and hear Jennie share her own stories; about miscellaneous topics such as animals brought from space and whatnot. She even ran into some nice trivia that was previously unknown to her. The Source device each soldier bore on their navel could be used interchangeably; these small machines were not individually tailored to each soldier as Jiho assumed they were, but could easily integrate with any person's nervous system. 

 "We're always being watched too, you know," Jennie remarked with that bright face of hers, an amused smile stretching across her tawny skin.

 "Yeah, always under the Motherland's caring eyes."

"No, not that," she giggled, "but literally. There are cameras everywhere..."

 "I thought everyone knew that."

 "But did you know that they only record video? No audio. And one day, they'll even be inside our homes, or so I heard. I love my job so much," she added with a deep sigh, "It gives me a lot to see and talk about."

 "Right."

 Jiho had walked ahead, assuming Jennie to have returned inside the buildings, but she was wrong. On impulse, she swiveled on her heels and glanced at her, still standing at the same spot where she had said bye a minute prior. Maybe she expected her to turn too, because the moment she swung in a circle, her hand shot into the blue and waved bye.

 "Thanks for being a friend and listening to me talk," she shouted, "hardly anyone ever talks with me."

 "What a strange girl," Jiho told herself as she reciprocated the wave with a smile. 

 Once at the terminal she waited for the next coach due in thirty minutes but as her patience waned, she begrudgingly opted to ride a taxi back home. She always hated the thought of that, of riding a small car with a stranger all by herself. No doubt the air between her and the driver would be awkward since she was always quiet and that meant that to break the ice, the driver would whip up some small talk. Where are you going?  I heard that's a good neighborhood; that true? How's the family? Your job? Plans for tomorrow? Questions like those bugged her as she was always reluctant to hand out intimate information when she could just as easily catch a bus. For all that, today was different. She wanted to reach her mom and hug her as soon as possible.

Shutting the cab door with a loud grunt, she fastened her seatbelt and shifted herself into a comfortable position, happy her boyish grunt went unnoticed.

 "Where to?" 

 At the question, Jiho quickly shared her address but was forced to repeat it since her voice came out like mumbling at first. The ride was long, over three hours even at top speed, so it was to no surprise that sleep finally won her over just as the sun began to set. When she next opened her eyes, the sky was all dark, speckled with stars she had seen from a closer view just a day prior. She wiped a thin trail of slaver next, and on the interior rear view mirror, she glimpsed at the driver's eyes. They were squinting, looking back with a different pair of eyes than the ones she first encountered. He seemed hungry, as if he were on the verge of his lips after wiping the sweat off his mustache. It was chilly inside the car because the a.c. was on, however.

Why would he be sweating and what exactly was he staring at? She feigned sleep, an eye partly opened to study him. Wouldn't you know it? He was staring between her legs, not that there was anything to look at since her long skirt covered her flesh quite well and underneath that her blue undersuit added another layer of concealment, yet she was certain he was leering there. She shifted herself on her seat, hoping to shake off his stare.

 "I'm sorry, miss? You caught me staring?" he abruptly spoke all apologetically.

 "Huh?"

 "I don't mean you any harm," he said with a cough. He whimpered a little before he continued, "It's your ring. You're a soldier, right? A Peace-Walker?"

 Jiho carefully chose her words as she straightened up and covered her ring with her free hand, "Yes, I am."

 "You see, my son was selected to be a Rocketfellow and I was proud. The thing is, he never came back from his mission. I was told he entered the Promise from a far off planet. Before his old man, can you believe that? I know it's paradise, but couldn't they have waited to send me there with him?"

 Her eyes fluttered, her arms tensed with the sensation of fine hairs poking up all over her body. She was wrong about him. His eyes weren't lascivious but the eyes of a heartbroken father's rather. She had a feeling his boy was in her troop- that he may have been one of the five that didn't return aboard the ship. She didn't have the heart to tell him that, though. What good would do in the end, if she told him? 

Oh, I was in the same troop as your son before we split into three parties, but I came back home, though. And as a result, I can be with my loved one, unlike your son because those who enter the Promise never come back.

The sound of what she thought seemed like a repugnant thing to her, so she had to dig deep to say something, anything at all.

 "I hope the Motherland grants admission for you into the Promise soon, so you can join him."

At the mention of the Motherland, he embarked on a tirade about the subject. Soon enough, Jiho became fed up with his blasphemies and ignored him, choosing to no longer respond or counter his argument. When the cab finally zoomed by the Supply House she knew she was homeward bound; only several miles distance between her and her mother. 

Twenty minutes passed and at last the car stopped. The driver had shut up the rest of the drive, only the trace sound of sniffling coming from his side of the car. Jiho was compelled to smile at him and thank him for the ride as she exited.

 "Take care and love your folks," he advised, locking eyes with her.

She didn't tarry any longer; after nodding in approval, she crossed the street and ran up to her home. Before she even rapped on the door, it swung open to reveal the small figure so dearly beloved traced by the glow of the light bulbs inside. Her heart was furiously pounding as she swept up her mother in a tight hug. Then she smooched the haggard face and went inside.

After dinner she thought it would bring her mother pride to see the armor of a soldier and without prior thinking she engaged her armor. Immediately, an alarm sounded within her helmet. 

 "Rocketfellow?" Wonho's familiar voice asked. "You don't have permission to activate your armor unless it's authorized. Please disengage the Metal Skin."

 "I'm sorry," she blurted, "I didn't know that."

 "That's fine. Just disengage and enjoy the evening with your mother."

 Jiho rushed to push the buttons on the Source; finally pressing it after what seemed like a minute that dragged on forever. Her mother smiled at her, bringing her to mirror the action.

 "That's enough," she told her. "You have made your mother proud, Jiho."

 "You haven't been taking your pills, right?"

 "I am loyal."

 A much needed bath later, Jiho slipped into her pajamas and neatly stored her undersuit away. It didn't need to be washed, she was told, since it was made out of a synthetic material that was unaffected by body odor and perspiration. She had sniffed it out of curiosity, and the spokesperson from the programming videos was right; it was odorless. Laying in bed, she began to ponder her mother's appearance. She was old, but tonight she seemed especially run down.

 "Maybe it's because she was anxious at my absence," she mused.

 A week passed, peaceful and uneventful. Then on the eighth night after her homecoming, Jiho awoke to another nightmare. It was the same chilling voice that repeated the words "I hate you." For the rest of this night she was sleepless. On the ninth morning, around six, as she sat on the toilet, she became aware of a disturbing feeling that she was being carefully watched, not by the cameras of the Motherland outside her house but by a separate entity, one immediately close to her. The bathroom became infused with an ominous air, cold and thin.

 "Your peace is a lie." 

 Jiho gasped, quickly running out the bathroom without washing her hands or flushing. For the next hour she listened intently to determine where the male voice spoke out of. It couldn't have been Wonho or any operator; her armor was disengaged and when they requested contact, the Source on her belly would flash red. The answer was obvious as to the identity of the voice, but she refused to acknowledge it. The voice she heard speak was the very voice that directed the phrase "I hate you" to her.

 She rubbed her face frantically, desperate to fall back asleep but sleep was the one thing that fled her. Presently, she descended the stairs softly to avoid waking her mother. A glass of milk, she thought, might remedy her insomnia. At the precise moment she crossed the threshold, her mother, already in the kitchen with a cup of water in hand, gasped. The pill in her hand, the one she swore not to take if Jiho agreed to become a soldier, fell from her fingers and rolled down the hardwood floor to reach the clenched toes of her daughter.

 "Death awaits your mother," the male voice spoke.

Jiho clearly heard the voice but she also clearly saw that dreaded tablet at her toes.

It stunned her that such a little thing could cause so much pain and sorrow. Even now, she was drowning in a pool of misery. The expectations she hoped, she trusted, her mother would meet came crashing down on her like the broken shards of a giant mirror. Their eyes reflected each other's. They were hollow and empty, a pitch black abyss in each eye. Only now, hers was lit by a flame that shot up, higher and higher so that even the skies burned. A black smoke clouded her thinking.

 Snatching it off the floor, she came up to her mother and shoved the pill in her face. She was furious and why wouldn't she be? She had faithfully kept her end of the deal and she hadn't? She had crossed the distant gulf of space to reach a planet she didn't even know existed and for what? To bring peace to strangers, to people she never met before and whose chances of seeing ever again were slim? This was all the while her mother lounged around the house, nonchalantly swallowing pills everyday with a glass of water as if nothing was wrong with breaking a promise or blatantly lying to her own daughter! Why did she do it?!

 "Tell me mom!" Jiho cried between sharp breaths of air. She had changed. Her eyes were no longer sweet but charged with the blazing fires of- hell was a foreign concept, but they nonetheless resembled a fiend's dark stare. Her face was red hot, contorted into a scowl like that of wild gorilla's as her nostrils vented steam like an exhaust pipe.

 "Get your hands off me!" the elder shouted, tugging at her daughter's talons that crushed the collar of her gown. Her feet dangled in the air as she was now lifted some inches off the floor.

 "Why mom?! You promised!" 

 "She is a naive fool, like you."

 Without warning she dropped her mother, leaving her to plop on the varnished floor, and clapped her head, trying to get whatever was in her head speaking out. Her mother, driven with concern and confusion, shook her sides as she squirmed. Jiho's clenched eyes opened and glimpsed at the pill, the reason behind all this trouble.

 "Why did you take it mom?!"

Yente gulped, but with complete confidence, replied, "You fool. The Motherland commands; not you. Think you know more? I will enter the Promise soon."

 Jiho burst into a frenzy of sobs and bitter moans, clinging to her mother while the voice spoke inside her head.

 "She lies! There is no Promise, only death."

 "Mommy, I hate you! Why can't you wait for me to go with you to the Promise! I hate you!"

 "Jiho, the Motherland knows, she knows what's best. You'll join me when she decides, not the other way around."

 "But Mama!" she clawed at Yente's gown.

 Her mother her hair and nearly suffocated her on her sagging s. 

 "I love you, Jiho."

Jiho struggled. Squirming her head out, she yelled, "No Mama! You lie, you don't love me! Or else why are you abandoning me! I hate you! I won't forgive you! I hate the Motherland, too! I'll never forgive her! Where is the peace they say she gives?! She lies! The Motherland is a stinking liar!" 

There was no reaction in her mother's face, good or bad. She was at a loss, afraid of what it meant to have her mother's countenance set like flint, a monolith with esoteric scrawling. She was unable to read her, but it was clear that her little show was having no effect whatsoever. In that little moment she recalled the way her fits of anger failed to convince her mother before, of securing her consent to switch jobs. It didn't work then, so why would it now? She paused and reconsidered as tears kept streaming down.

 Bargaining!

 She would tell her mom what she wanted to hear, she'll be an obeisant servant and indeed keep her word if only she would stay. Mix that in with lip service, a brine of flattery, and poof! Her mother would be obliged to assent to her single demand of staying. 

"No, I'm sorry! I take it back! I can feel the Motherland's peace inside me! Look, it shoots out from my fingers, the tips of my toes, and the ends of my hair! Please, just stay! I'll do anything you want! I'll be an obedient soldier and make the Motherland proud. Just don't leave! Mama, please! I'm begging you!"

"I know you love me and the Motherland, child. We forgive you for those dumb words you spoke out of anger."

 Jiho got up. "That means you'll stay?" she gasped. 

 "No."

 Jiho stomped her feet, and eventually fell to the floor whereupon she continued her tantrum. The frail elder came by her again and soothed her pain by caressing her hair, patting her head and shushing her. The moment civility is at her cusp after nearly half an hour of crying, boisterous knocks smite the entrance door. Then the fairly sturdy wooden door crashes open, splintering at the impact of an axe held in the hands of a hooded man, one surrounded by identically attired men. These are the envoys of the Motherland, come to take the permitted into the Promise. 

 "Take this pill, daughter, and all will be made well. We know your actions are only out of distress. It's not the real you. The Motherland knows. The Motherland knows all."

 Jiho kicked and scratched, punched and bit at the men who desperately tried to restrain her fury as her mother was ripped from her embrace. What happened next she can't remember except that a pill was shoved down by the man in gay colors.

A/N: To be clear, in this context, "know not a woman" is a euphemism that implies the male cadets have not been intimate with a woman.