An hour before noon, my thigh muscles began twitching in protest. At the same time, the arches in my feet twisted violently. The tightness in my calves seized into cramps, shooting excruciating pain in every direction. Stiffness worked its way into my back, making me long to stretch. Each time I tried, I lost balance. If I fell, I knew, my training would be delayed—an unacceptable fate. The Helix was my key to freedom. I conjured up a picture of Jones’ hateful face, clenched my jaw, and forced myself to be still.

I heard the others struggling as well. Booster’s breath howled and Pidge gave a guttural grunt. Voltaire was bent in an uncomfortable seated position that he didn’t seem able to get out of. Finch alone had yet to break down. Like Hosea, he had remained on one leg, switching periodically. I’d even seen him stretch, tilting forward at the waist, one leg lifted behind and both arms extended from his sides.

I peeked at Hosea. Straight ahead of us, he stood on the ball of one foot. The other dangled over the edge of the pole. His arms relaxed at his sides and his eyes anchored on a single spot of earth. He might have been standing on solid ground. How was he doing it?

Booster cried out and tumbled from his pole. Walker and Hurley, watching from the sidelines, hurried forward with water. The sight of cool liquid trickling down Booster’s black chin shook me. I tilted sideways. Flinging my arms out, I sank into a deep squat, regaining my balance just in time. The fire in my thighs exploded. Pidge shouted loudly and collapsed back, joining Booster on the ground.

“Water, water,” Pidge said. Hurley hurried to splashed water on Pidge’s legs, which shook dangerously. He was in no condition to go on. He and Booster would begin again tomorrow.

Time passed as I panted. Sweat dripped rhythmically from my earlobe to my shoulder. Desperate, I reminded myself of why I had to stay strong. Free-dom, free-dom, free-dom. I clenched my jaw. How much longer?

My back muscles clamped at my spine, pinching my nerves. My shoulders solidified. My neck convulsed. I heard someone moaning, and realized it was my own voice deepened by pain. I screwed my eyes shut. Voltaire began praying, and Finch breathed in rasps. Free-dom, free-dom. Oh God, Obi—freedooom! I imagined myself roaming the oasis as another minute ticked by.

In the end, my legs crumpled involuntarily. Unable to stand, I toppled to the ground, just as Hosea called time. Terrified I had failed, I pushed myself aright and looked around. Voltaire lay on the ground, as did Finch. We had all fallen at the same moment Hosea had released us. Tears came to my eyes and I collapsed back to the floor. I had passed. I had passed the first morning of training.

* * *