The Armor of God (9 page)

Ezra looked at Jena, then at Akiva.

“Corporal Higgins recommended Privates First Class Davenport and Crescent, who both got excellent results in the Moreau, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Ezra said.

“Davenport, Crescent?” the man said; Jena and Akiva were paying attention. “Tutoring him would come out of your recreation time as well, and there are no rewards to speak of. Do you accept these terms?”

“Sure. Why not?” Akiva said, and Jena echoed his words.

Good. That solved itself.

“Done. Your companions will tutor you in basic math, physics, biology and chemistry, as well as the advanced courses that will be part of your curriculum. You will take the test again in two weeks, and I expect an excellent grade this time. Once you pass the Moreau with a grade no lower than 85 percent, you will be promoted to Private First Class.”

“Yes, sir,” Ezra said, and couldn’t help feeling a little embarrassed.

“As you know, you’re assets: assets that are too valuable for Roue and sadly irreplaceable. This means that you can’t be expelled because of poor performance or discipline. You need to be aware, however, that that doesn’t mean you can get away with poor behavior. You can and will be severely punished if you fail to meet our standards, so read the entire rulebook you will find in your welcome package. In there you will also find your schedules, which will mainly consist of lessons in the lecture halls, physical training, Creux pilot simulation, three meals, private study hall, recreation, and rest. You will take the first round of Advancement Tests in a month, and depending on your performance, you might be awarded with more free time, as well as regular visits to Roue.”

“When do we get to pilot the Creux?” Poole said too eagerly, considering the information given.

“You will probably be deployed on your first real Creux mission in four to six weeks, depending on how well you do in the Advancement Tests. Piloting a Creux is not a joke. You see the ‘D’ next to several names in your roster? Do you know what it stands for?”

“Deceased,” Jena whispered.

“Deceased. Even though you’re not on board the Creux, both your mind and body are at risk. We have lost dozens of precious lives, so we take your training very seriously. I suggest you do the same.”

Hooh boy,
Ezra thought, and wondered if there would ever be a D next to his name in future printings of the roster.

“You’re very young, and it’s easy to forget your mortality at your age. In the dining hall, you’ll find the pictures of every member of the Creux Defense Program who have died fighting against the laani.”

“That’s a grim sight during a meal,” he heard Jena whisper. Alice, who had watched over the entire lecture, looked at her.

“I want you to look at them every day, and don’t forget it could be your picture hanging there next. You have in your hands the power to win the world back for humanity, but you need to stay alive to make it happen. Any questions?”

All four of them raised their hands.

Two hours later, Dr. Mizrahi joined them in the auditorium to end orientation. All four were left with too many unanswered questions but were assured that, if there was an answer, it would be covered in the lecture halls.

“Jena Crescent,” Mizrahi said. “As per your request, your father will be transferred here in two days. You will be able to see him then.”

“Thank you very much,” Jena said.

“After your lunch, you will meet with Dr. Mizrahi in the compatibility lab so we can take tissue and blood samples and determine to which Creux you belong. It may take a few hours, but we’ve found the anticipation makes it an exciting thing for new pilots. Anyone have anything to add?” Dr. Yuri said. “Yes?”

Ezra cleared his throat. “I would like to make a formal request to have someone transferred here as my personal counselor, sir.”

Mizrahi and Dr. Yuri shared a confused glance, then looked at the others. “You’re dismissed. You—” he pointed at Ezra. “You come here, please.”

Ezra watched Akiva, Jena, and Poole leave their seats with their booklets in their hands. “We’ll see you later,” Akiva said, passing Ezra by. He wished they wouldn’t leave; Ezra didn’t want to step out of the auditorium and take his first steps inside Zenith alone.

Dr. Yuri started picking up his materials, books, and documents from the instructor’s desk. “You’re speaking of Corporal Higgins, am I correct?”

Ezra was surprised. “Y-yes, sir.”

Dr. Yuri seemed to know it was going to happen. “Blanchard, why are you making this request?”

“Because I’d like her to be my counselor, sir.”

“And how did you know you would have a counselor?”

Ezra felt trapped and didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want to lie to Dr. Yuri, but he also didn’t want to expose the conversation with Susan; she had made it very clear that she had taken a risk talking to him.

Thankfully, Dr. Yuri didn’t keep him in the snare for too long, and continued speaking. “Surely Corporal Higgins told you she had made a request to join us before. There is a reason why we have denied it twice already.”

“Sir?”

“She is not fit—not fit to work here,” Mizrahi interjected in her own strange way of talking. “She does not handle stress well. She grows too attached to subjects. We keep her in a place where we can use her talents adequately.”

“You should know, Blanchard, that Corporal Higgins has been through a lot of counseling herself in the last years. Twice before she’s lost a child in utero, and she recently discovered she might never bear one. She immediately grows too attached to the children she meets in Roue and then sends to us. This environment would not be a good match for someone with her history and tendencies.”

Ezra didn’t know any of that, and wondered why Susan hadn’t shared it. It was sensitive information, of course, but she had seemed so sincere in her wishes to be part of Zenith. She had certainly hidden this sad history remarkably well. Had she kept anything else from him? Maybe Susan wasn’t really the person she appeared to be.

Maybe she had manipulated Ezra into getting her a job in Zenith.

“You can still make the request, but you would still need to take a test to make sure she’s a good match with you, and it still needs to go through an admissions committee that I know has grown tired of her. I know you believe you’re doing a good thing in bringing her here, but it might be best for her—and you—to remain detached from one another. With that in mind, do you still wish to make the request?”

“Yes, sir,” Ezra said.

“Very well. I will let you know how to proceed tomorrow. Now, join your companions for lunch and be in the Compatibility labs at 2:00 PM sharp.”

“What was that all about?” Jena said when Ezra finally joined them in the dining hall, which looked remarkably similar to the one in the D-District Army Base. “Did you get in trouble?”

“No, of course not,” Ezra said and sat down without getting anything to eat. “I just had something to ask.”

“Susan asked you to transfer her here, didn’t she?” Akiva said, taking a spoonful of soup.

“Dammit, now how do
you
know?”

“She asked the same thing of me,” he replied, and it hit Ezra in the gut.

“She did?” So she had definitely lied to him. Susan had been clear when she said she was trusting Ezra because she sensed they would be a good match. It hurt to think it was a lie she told everyone she could.

“Don’t get me wrong: She asked you first. I suppose she just wanted me to make the request as a backup. If you forgot, or if you two weren’t a good match,” Akiva said. “What did Yuri tell you?”

“They’re gonna do the tests, I suppose. I don’t think she’s gonna get the transfer. Now I’m not sure I want her to.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Jena said. “She’s a good person. She just wants a job she’ll hate less. She seemed unhappy, didn’t she? Maybe you can help her change that.”

“Yeah. I suppose,” he said. Ezra couldn’t help feeling sorry for her, despite also feeling a bit betrayed. In retrospect, she had definitely seemed unhappy; Ezra couldn’t remember seeing her smile, and there was always a disappointed look in her eyes. It was bizarre how he hadn’t really noticed.

Of course, he had been rather busy.

“I’ve known her since I’ve been in the army base,” Poole said, her violet eyes unreadable. “I still don’t know if she is to be trusted.”

Ezra couldn’t have imagined it, but Susan had become a mystery not unlike the Creux themselves. She had shown one of many faces to him, and he couldn’t know if it had been the real one. Suddenly the idea of a person he could have easily grown to trust and consider a friend had begun to blur. Poole refused to give the details of her experience with Corporal Higgins, which was also troubling.

He decided he’d let that story play out. He’d take the tests and see what happened: if she was a match, then all this worry was for nothing; if she wasn’t, he wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore and wouldn’t have to feel guilty.

“Enjoying your first meal?”

Ezra turned around to face a group of people standing behind Kiva, who had brought the bowl of soup up to his mouth to drink. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge them.

“You’re the new guys,” the man who appeared to be the leader of the group said. His name was written on the uniform that matched Ezra’s:
Sp. Garros Parks
. He was massive enough to make Kiva appear small. His incredibly bushy beard and shaved head added degrees of intimidation to his demeanor. Opposite his name, there was another patch: the words
QUANTUM ARES
in a heavily stylized font, and two cartoon-y yellow eyes that seemed to belong to a demon of some kind.

“Are you a pilot?” Ezra said.

“Specialist Parks,” the man said, walking over to Ezra and shaking his hand. “First name Garros. I’m Quantum Ares.”

“You mean you
pilot
Quantum Ares,” Kiva said, and there was an edge to his voice that worried Ezra. Kiva seemed to be in a defensive position that told everyone he wasn’t someone to be bullied. Were these guys here to bully them?

“That’s what I meant, big fellow,” Garros said.

“Relax your shoulders, guy,” a short blonde woman said. She was also a pilot: Specialist Erin Perry,
PHOENIX ATLAS
. She gently put her hand on Kiva’s shoulder, and he shrugged it off.

Poole seemed to share whatever thoughts went in Kiva’s head—she looked like a cornered animal, looking at the uniformed pilots like they were dangerous predators.

“We’re here to welcome you,” Garros said, and his enthusiastic sociability at least seemed sincere. “Like I said, I’m Garros, pilot of Quantum Ares. Behind purple-eyes over there: Specialist Erin Perry, Phoenix Atlas. And this is Tessa, Isis Nineteen.”

The tall brunette standing behind Poole, Tessa, bowed with a smile. She seemed younger than the others, almost of an age with Ezra. Her eyes wouldn’t leave Akiva, like they had found in him something they had been searching for.

“Thank you. I’m Jena Crescent. These are Akiva Davenport, Ezra Blanchard, and Vivian Poole.”

Poole’s eyes widened the moment Jena mentioned his name, and she turned to face Ezra.
Great, another fan of the family,
he thought.

“We still don’t know our Creux,” Jena added.

“Yeah,” Erin said. “That’s why we’re here. Have you heard of the Mystery Shake tradition? No, of course not—you’re new. Well, here: this is the Mystery Shake.” She took a step back and a skinny man who also wore the Phoenix Atlas patch on his breast—most likely a crewmember—placed a tall glass on the table. It was filled with a thick and odorless gray swill that could barely be called a liquid.

“What the hell is that?” Kiva said. There was finally anger in his voice, and it scared Ezra. He didn’t want a confrontation, certainly didn’t want to make enemies on his first day in Zenith.

“Here’s the deal,” Erin said. “For a good while now, this has welcomed every single new Creux pilot to Zenith. Garros here was one of the first ones to take it years ago.”

“One sip—it’s not so bad,” Garros said. “I drank the whole thing.”

“What’s in it?” Ezra said, leaning closer to the shake. It was bubbling.

“Whatever Corporal Mendenhall decides to put in it,” said Erin and pointed towards the counter. Behind it stood a lady in military uniform, looking at the congregation around Ezra’s table. “She’s a great cookie, and can get really creative with flavor. Easy, boy, it’s not gonna kill you; it’s just one good drink.”

“What if I don’t take it?” Poole said. Jena seemed to be enjoying herself and looked at the slop with a smile.

“It’s bad luck!” Tessa said, speaking for the first time. “You have to take it, we all did!”

“I’m not drinking that,” said Kiva.

“See those?” Garros said, and pointed to a wall directly behind Ezra. It was the wall Dr. Yuri had spoken of. A series of framed photographs of men and women in uniform adorned it: deceased pilots and crewmembers. “I don’t want to say they’re there because they refused to drink the Shake, but—”

“Garros, don’t even,” Erin said and looked at Ezra. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s tradition. We want to welcome—”