The Armor of God (17 page)

It took a lot of effort for Ezra to truly retain the information Jena and Kiva were trying to teach. Alone, they were very good teachers, as they had an almost complete understanding of the material and were both very patient; together, however, it was more difficult—they didn’t seem to agree on each other’s methods, and were more concerned with enjoying themselves than in teaching Ezra.

“Oh cripes.
What are you doing
?” Akiva would playfully protest during a chemistry session, wiping Jena’s still unfinished equations from the board to begin his own work. “Who taught you chemistry?”

“
Your mom taught me chemistry
! You’re awful at this. Here, Ezra don’t listen to him—
this
is how you balance an equation.” Jena would start her work again on another side of the blackboard.

Kiva was too interested in proving himself the smartest one in the room, and would compete with Jena in every exercise of every topic of every subject, sometimes doing it, Ezra thought, just to play a part. It was amusing, and Ezra definitely liked seeing Jena being playful again, but the sessions were becoming a waste of their time.

This went on for days until Ezra felt the pressure of the tests, and the Moreau in particular, building up, so he politely declared the tutoring sessions ended. There was protest from Jena and especially Kiva, who particularly enjoyed the role of teacher, but both conceded with an apology that they hadn’t been as helpful as they should have been.

In the end it was Besoe Nandi’s crewmembers, Kat and Dr. Mustang, who in just three days explained what Jena and Kiva couldn’t in weeks. Kat and Lance seemed genuinely concerned about Ezra’s education and appeared to have more experience as teachers and instructors, so they were far more efficient tutors. Ezra smiled, thinking about how Poole had been right all along.

In addition to the hours of studying and lectures, Ezra, Jena, Kiva, and Poole clocked a total of thirty-eight hours in the Equivalency Suits before the end of the month. Though Ezra’s progress was still the slowest of all four, there was definite improvement that made Garros very proud.

The huge, bearded pilot would often commend Ezra on his progress and discipline, but Ezra wouldn’t call it discipline when he enjoyed practicing in the suits so much. Every time the suit encased his body in its protective wrap, he felt more and more comfortable and at home inside. By the end of the month, thanks to extensive and exhausting physical training sessions with Garros, Ezra had grown stronger and could much more easily move inside the Nandi suit. At Alice’s recommendation, they even played a short game of ball while wearing the suits, just to test the pilots’ improved mobility. It was brutal and exhausting, but fun.

When it was time to finish their introductory period to Zenith, Ezra felt smarter and stronger—a different person entirely: one prepared and more than capable of becoming a true Creux Pilot.

The last day of their period of integration was a Friday, almost four weeks after their arrival. Following a long night of group study, they woke up an hour later than they usually would and met in the grand lecture hall. The advancement tests waited for all four of them, though Ezra would first have to take the Moreau.

Overseeing the tests were Dr. Mizrahi, Alice, and finally Susan. Susan’s presence was a choice, and she sat there in her Roue Army uniform, looking at the children like a proud mother, a book in her hand.

All four of them started at the same time, and Ezra finished the Moreau upon the hour. He had completed every segment of the exam with ease, only stopping for brief moments to remember basic equations and procedures taught to him by his crewmembers just a few days earlier.

Following a very short break in which he left the room to drink a can of soda and then piss it out in the restrooms, Ezra returned to receive his standardized advancement test in the form of one very heavy booklet and an answer sheet.

Sitting down and preparing himself to tear the seal between him and the test, he took a look at the others. Out of the other three, it was Jena who looked frustrated and stuck; Kiva and Poole, though barely halfway through the test, appeared to be as focused and confident as Ezra felt.

The gap in difficulty between the two tests was an unpleasant surprise. Indeed, Ezra felt like all the material being tested had been covered either during their Entry Lectures or tutoring, but it was still much more complicated than the Moreau. As he had expected, it was the content covered in Dr. Mizrahi’s science classes that halted his otherwise assertive stride through the examination.

He was still missing one third of the exam when Jena finished and handed hers to Dr. Mizrahi. She had been the third, and they were each silently ushered out of the room after finishing, leaving Ezra alone.

During a moment of hesitation given by a particularly tricky question that could be answered by two of the possibilities provided (
93. In Laani Virology, the term ‘Griever’s Point’ refers to: A), the host range of the human laansivirus-6; B), the maximum infection range before a host body becomes unsalvageable; C), the moment in which the single stranded DNA expands to double-stranded infected cells; D), the apex of an RNA coil of repeating protein sub-units)
, Ezra looked towards the desk at the front of the room, where Susan sat. Corporal Higgins, looking over the results of the Moreau he had completed a few hours earlier, gave him a smile and raised her thumb.

Ezra was confident in his guess that the gesture meant that he had passed, which made him feel even better.

The final segment of the test covered the engineering lectures in Garros and Erin’s class. Ezra breezed through most of the engineering section, immediately identifying materials and diagrams. He handed his answer sheet after three and a half hours: a fairly standard time.

“The results—the results of the exam—you’ll get them tomorrow before your synchronization test,” Dr. Mizrahi said. “I have no doubt they will be satisfactory. We expect you to be well fed and well rested tomorrow at eight in the morning in the Compatibility labs. Eight in the morning. Compatibility labs.” Dr. Mizrahi picked up her things—a briefcase and the remains of an unfinished sandwich—before she left the grand lecture hall.

“You looked confident,” said Susan.

“Are you going to make me some money?” Alice asked, taking Ezra’s answer sheet from his hand. “There was a pool again—we’re betting on your score. If you get over 90 percent but under 95, I’m a bit richer. So hey, if I win I’ll treat you to dinner during our next outing to the city.”

Don’t these guys have anything better to do?
he thought, but worded a better question. “Did someone bet above you, ma’am?”

“Garros did,” Alice said and put all four answer-sheets in a folder. “That guy has faith in you.”

“Poor bastard,” Ezra replied. “Am I right in thinking I passed the Moreau, Corporal?”

“You are, you did,” said Susan, and looked down at the document that broke down Ezra’s answers. “87 percent overall. Congratulations,
Private First Class
Blanchard.”

The smile he showed her was not entirely honest. Ezra felt proud that he had earned his first promotion, finally joining his friends in their entry rank. Behind that thin veil of pride, however, was disappointment; he had expected a much higher result in the Moreau. Even after his second attempt, he had fallen short of Jena and Kiva.

“Don’t look so glum,” said Susan and opened the door for him. “You got 62 percent last time. That’s a huge improvement, and a passing grade.”

“I just thought I had done better,” he said. Susan and Alice followed him out of the grand lecture hall and towards the dining room.

“Go get something to eat. You have free time until tomorrow morning, but if I were you I’d book the Training Arena and the Equivalency Suits. The synchronization test is tomorrow,” Alice said. “It won’t hurt to be a little more prepared.”

“She’s right,” said Susan. “Also, we don’t have a scheduled session, but I’m not going to be busy after lunch, so give me a call if you need help preparing for the test. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll join you and your crew in Nandi’s docking chamber to look over your synch tests. I’m sure you’ll be all right.”

Ezra thanked them both and walked into the dining hall to be immediately greeted by Garros and Erin, who showered him with questions.

Before sitting down with them to discuss the exams and their possible result, he overheard Alice speak, not to him, but to Susan: “Hey, join me for lunch? Need to talk to you.”

He saw them find a table at the far corner, where they could find a semblance of privacy for a talk clearly not intended for anyone else’s ears.

Still upset by his disappointing performance in the Moreau, Ezra stripped himself of all the ersatz confidence he had gained during his deceitful performance. Overconfidence could mean failure, and he needed to avoid it. He knew he should follow Alice’s advice and take some time to train, but when he considered his possibilities, Ezra realized that all he really needed was some sleep.

Before retiring to his dormitory, Ezra took a walk down to the Docking Bay, where Kat and Dr. Mustang were making final preparations for Besoe Nandi’s first launch. Ezra thanked them for their effective tutoring and lied about his results on the Moreau, adding a few digits to his real score, just to make them feel a little better about their service.

Then, he looked at Nandi, who was staring into the chamber like a monster planning to destroy it. Still, The Minotaur was passive. Ezra looked at his eyes, a set of which he had worn for many hours already in the Training Arena.

I’ll see you tomorrow
, the thing was saying.

When sundown finally came, and everyone else was enjoying the free time of a Friday night, Ezra was alone in his dormitory. He had sat on the bed in his underwear, reading a book he took from the library. It was a dissertation written by Alice Nolan after her first year in Zenith. The insights she gave into Absolute Omega’s temperament, and the incredible numbers she obtained during that first year, shed new light on Alice. She was far more talented as a pilot, and far more intelligent, than she ever led them to believe.

It was no wonder she had been voted as the leader of the Creux Defense Squad.

She had also chosen, in what to Ezra seemed unnecessary, to include passages about her personal life. Her childhood had not been easy; her father was an addict and her mother merely a child. Alice had to emancipate from their legal bond when she was only fifteen years old. Finding herself too young to work in Roue, she found a savior in a young psychologist called Audra and her wealthy family, who took her in for three years before she was placed in Zenith. Ezra suspected the name was fake, changed to protect her patron’s identity.

After two hours of reading, Ezra had fallen asleep, book still open and resting on his chest. He was roused by a knock on the door. He rubbed his eyes and got up, slipping on a pair of sweatpants on the way to the door. Had one of the crewmembers lost their key? A look into their chambers confirmed they had not yet arrived.

He opened the door to meet a decayed version of Alice standing at the other side. “Can I come in?”

She was unrecognizable in casual clothes that hadn’t been washed or ironed. Her eyes were swollen and red, the obvious result of a steady and strong stream of tears. She also stank of alcohol.

Ezra was so shocked by her appearance that it took him a moment to take a step back and let her in. Before closing the door, he peeked at the dormitory hallway; it was empty. He didn’t want to be seen; Alice stepping into his dormitory at night could easily be misconstrued.

“Is everything all right?” Ezra asked. When he looked she was already sitting on his bed, staring at the mess that was his room.

“Good choice in reading,” she said, looking at her dissertation next to the bed. “I love Nandi’s colors. This is a nice room . . . It suits you.” She wiped her nose.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s—can you sit? I don’t want to talk up to you,” she said and invited him to sit next to her. Seeing her hand pat the mattress felt like his nerves were being strung like the strings of a piano, and were ready to snap.

He sat down and she began crying again. “Alice—Lieutenant, what’s happening?”

“I think things aren’t going so well; we might be close to the end,” she said. Her breath stank of alcohol. “The end of Zenith, I mean. I don’t think Zenith has a long time left. Sometimes it feels like no one here knows what they’re doing. Things outside are changing—and now Akiva—”

“What? What about Kiva?”

“Nothing,” she said with regret. “I don’t trust his Creux. I’m a bit afraid of Milos Ravana. I’m afraid of tomorrow’s test—that something might go wrong with it.”

“Ma’am, but what’s the worst that can happen? We’re just synchronizing, right?”

She nodded. “Right. Nothing. You’re right.”

“Can’t you ask someone else to perform the test with us? Garros, or Erin, if you’re not comfortable?”

She shook her head, then turned to look at him. He didn’t say anything; she looked so sad and fragile. He wanted to—

Alice leaned forward and planted a kiss on Ezra’s mouth, catching him by surprise. Despite, or maybe because of, the shock, Ezra took it and didn’t protest. She smelled of alcohol, but feeling her lips, and then her hand on the back of his head, was pleasant.