His worry turned out to be for nothing: apparently defeated in the matter, Akiva just continued walking, barely acknowledging Ezra and Rebecca with a small shake of his head.
“Are you coming to dinner?” asked Jena from the other side of a row of potted artificial plants that were only there to give the room an impression of life.
“In a minute,” Ezra said.
“You’re gonna need to eat up,” Erin said. “We’re going out.”
“Out? What do you mean?”
“We’re going to celebrate in Roue, Ezra!” Jena said.
Ezra said good-bye and thanked Rebecca before going to grab something to eat. He took a seat with Poole and was soon joined by Garros, Erin, and Jena. When he asked where Akiva had gone, all of them shrugged. Ezra had grown accustomed to Akiva’s disappearances; from their very first day in Zenith, when he was matched with Milos Ravana, he was told that his training would be more constant than the others’, and that he’d have to spend more time in the labs for testing. The first successful synchronization with The Armor of God was, surely, an achievement to be celebrated, but also studied.
Every pilot who was active in Zenith had walked up to the table and offered a handshake, a kiss on the cheek, or a congratulatory nod. Even the ones he had yet to properly meet and interact with outside of classrooms: Angela Howard-King, pilot of Ruby Akita, whose Creux had been in recovery from an unknown malfunction for nearly five weeks; James Caldwell, pilot of Black Ellipsis, whose Creux had never completely recovered from a minor overload of the T-Core similar to the one which killed Alice and Susan; Jed Townsend, pilot of Nebula 09, whom Ezra had once seen in the recovery ward and was now able to walk, but remained horribly scarred in parts of his neck and face; even Felix Goodwin, pilot of Iron Seraphim, who had some major beef with Garros—and Ezra by extension—offered a laudatory pat in the back.
There were strange politics at work in the Creux Defense Squad; Ezra couldn’t understand why he had become immediate friends with Alice, Garros, and Erin—and even the mysteriously silent and likeable Tessa—but had barely ever spoken to the four other pilots despite having lived and studied together for more than a month.
The bigger mystery, however: Why were they being congratulated thus? He imagined it was some kind of rite of passage, because nothing he did that day seemed worthy of praise. His success in the Moreau and standardized tests were barely acknowledged, and those exams had required a much greater effort.
He had done nothing special inside Nandi; he only wanted to go back in and give them a real reason to congratulate him.
“Ezra?” Tessa’s voice came through into his thoughts. He looked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said.
“Oh, oh! He’s got ’em,” said Garros, smiling behind his giant beard.
“Got what?” asked Ezra, playing with his food rather than eating it.
“The Blues!” he replied and laughed. “You feeling like you just want to go back there? Back inside the Creux and mess something up because you feel too weak and too vulnerable? You want the pressures and the stress of the Creux—you want to go there to make you feel strong again.”
Ezra didn’t answer, and that was an answer in itself. That was a very precise description of the feelings he hadn’t been able to define. He was too embarrassed to admit those were his feelings because he didn’t like to expose the realities of his weakness, even to himself.
“Yeah, I thought so. You’re not depressed and you’re not the only one who got ’em. It happens to half the people who go down there,” said Garros. “I got ’em, Tessa there got ’em bad. Alice got ’em. She had a fancier name for them, but that’s what they are.”
“Creux Hormesis,” said Poole. “That’s what First Lieutenant Nolan called it. I understand those feelings, Blanchard.”
“Maybe I was spared,” said Jena with a shrug. “I know I had never felt anything like it, but that was it. All I know is I’m very excited to go back down in a real operation.”
“Like I said—half of us. It’s extremely common,” Garros said. “Hell, I think I cried the night after my test; it just felt like I would never be happy again unless I was piloting Ares.”
“So, can you write your reports on your Creux’s temperaments?” asked Erin, changing the subject.
Ezra frowned. “I . . . I don’t know. I know I heard him talking to me when we were down there but . . . I can’t remember most of it. I know he asked me if I needed his help. I remember him being somewhat defensive and secretive, but I’m not sure. I remember some of the things he said felt important somehow.”
Jena had been nodding along to Ezra’s words, while Poole looked at him in silent agreement. “Me too. I think I forgot some of the things Jade said to me,” said Jena.
“The first times you synchronize—or rather, when you desynchronize—can cause some stress on your brain, especially around your frontal cortex,” said Tessa, speaking for the first time and touching the front, left side of Ezra’s head; it was strangely intrusive from someone who rarely ever spoke. “Around here. It causes some of the memories to vanish. Your brain eventually gets used to the dizzying process.”
“Yeah. The reports are a constant thing, so you’ll write what you remember tomorrow morning and we’ll work from there,” Erin said, finishing her meal and placing the silverware in the perfect “four-o-clock” position his mother had always forced him to do, even during casual meals.
“Are we leaving soon? I’d like to speak to my moth—I mean, Dr. Blanchard.”
“You can call her your mother, Blanchard,” said Garros.
“You can call her mommy if you want!” added Jena in an obvious joke that actually stung, especially when the entire table chuckled.
“We’re leaving soon. If you want to talk to her, go look for her now,” said Erin. “There’s only one train to Roue and if you’re not on it in an hour, you’re not coming.”
Ezra left the pilots’ table and walked towards the Management wing. It took him a moment to remember the way to his mother’s new office, and on the way there, he walked past Alice’s old office, marked only with the words CREUX DEFENSE SQUAD LEADER. Alice’s name had already been removed from the door. He didn’t even know this office existed two hours before, and now it was a fortress he needed to invade.
He knocked on the door, and his mother’s voice answered after a moment, inviting him in.
The door, wood in a facility that appeared to be all iron, creaked as he opened it. Like they did every time Ezra visited, Tara Blanchard’s eyes lit up. “Ezra! Come in, close the door!”
She hugged him like she always did and asked him to sit. She took a seat on a couch and not behind her large desk in an effort to make this a loving encounter and not a business meeting. “I heard you did phenomenally well in your synchronization tests.”
“I don’t know about phenomenally, but I woke up in the Egg and not the hospital, so that’s something.”
“It still hurts,” Tara said and put her hand on his cheek. “You will feel better, even if it takes a while. So, you got the Blues?”
“What? How did you know? I just found out.”
“A mother can tell,” she said and laughed.
“They invited me out, to Roue. I’m not sure I want to; I don’t feel like drinking.”
“Oh Ezra, please—of course you do. You should have a drink with the other pilots; the first outing back in Roue is important,” she said and walked back to her chair behind her desk.
“Mom, I wanted to ask you something. Dr. Yuri—I mean, Dr. Logan—he took me to the restricted area of the labs,” he said, and Tara nodded. “He showed me something. An animal, like a monster.”
“Subject Edward,” she said and sighed. “I’m sorry you had to see that but if Dr. Logan thought you should, it’s probably true. How did that make you feel? Finding out what you’re really fighting.”
“I don’t know. It was scary,” he replied. “Why don’t the people
of Roue know? Everyone thinks the laani just kills you. Don’t they deserve to know what it turns you into?”
Tara hesitated to speak for a moment, not knowing how to approach Ezra’s question. Something in her eyes told Ezra that this was a conversation she shouldn’t be having. “What do you think?” It was typical of her, to answer questions with questions. She claimed it was a method to exercise her children’s minds. When he was young, he had always seen it as deflection, and so did he now.
“I don’t know, Mom. I just know it made me sick to my stomach. I don’t want to think we’re vulnerable to that—to becoming monsters like that.”
“Well, then there’s your answer,” she said. “We’re living at the edge of humanity, sweetheart. We’re doing everything we can in here to fight this alien virus and reclaim our territory, but . . .”
“There has to be hope.”
“Always. Hope has to be the last thing to die,” she said.
“Then why is Zenith a secret? Why are the Creux a secret? They should at least know what we’re doing to fight the laani, shouldn’t they? They deserve to know we’re doing something about it, that we’re fighting back.”
“They know we’re fighting back. They think it’s the army defending them, not the Creux. Even we don’t know what the Creux really are, Ezra. We don’t know where they really came from, or who left them for us. People fear what they don’t understand. The last thing the people of Roue need is more fear. Fear is for us.”
“Mom?”
“Yes, I’m afraid, but seeing you here makes me happy. I love all my children but out of all of you guys, you’re the one making the biggest difference—the unlikely one, as your dad called you. When all of us walk on the outside again, everyone will know your name. I know it’s hard, but you’re at the core of the machine that’s keeping humanity alive. It’s too much pressure for someone so young, but it’s what you were born to do. That’s why I want you to go with the pilots. I want you to go back to Roue and look at the city you’re protecting. I want you to celebrate and enjoy those few moments of peace and joy you have. They’re important to you and to the rest of us.”
Ezra bit his lip and nodded. “Thank you, Mom.”
He kissed her cheek and left.
Ezra had been born in Roue long, long after it was built, and had never seen the outside world. Yet, returning to that domed city, in all ways a closed system where everything that could be recycled was, felt like stepping out and breathing fresh air for the first time. He had seen the fake skies of Zenith many times out in the sports pitch and training grounds, but there was something different about the fake skies of Roue. Somehow they seemed to be more real. The vault was enormous, and it was easy to forget that the endless field of stars above him was a fabrication: a cruel comfort.
He didn’t know how much he missed Roue until he found himself there again.
The group of people who decided to join Ezra for the Party’s celebration was much smaller than the ones who had celebrated their arrival. Ezra, Jena, Poole, and Akiva were joined only by Tessa, Erin, Garros, and Jed. When he asked about the relatively small group, Garros assured that only the pilots were cleared to go out under the terms of this celebration, but that Barnes and his husband would join them later.
Two army vehicles waited for them outside the base and took them straight to a pub, which they would not leave. Ezra was new to legal drinking, and had never been outgoing, so he had never heard of the place. It was called The Giant’s Den, and it seemed hidden, only to cater to Zenith personnel and high-ranking Roue Army officials.
When they entered, music was playing loudly and the few patrons were very drunk already. A large antique clock on the wall made to look like a giant’s wristwatch told Ezra it was very late, which made no sense to him.
“The time in Zenith doesn’t match the time in Roue,” Tessa explained. Sunrises and sunsets were a few hours out of synch, and she didn’t know why. Ezra couldn’t understand it; by all accounts it was a strange choice.
“You guys sit down,” Garros said, pushing Ezra’s shoulders down, forcing him to sit in one long wooden table. Poole sat next to him, Akiva and Jena on the other side. The rest went on to buy rounds of drinks, which they placed in front of the four pilots. “Drink up.”
A parade of colorful drinks and pints of beer followed, and Ezra’s system welcomed the intoxication and casual company. This made him feel detached from Zenith for a moment, like he was merely having fun with friends like he never had before.
If only the Zenith uniforms weren’t there to remind him that the next day he’d wake up and return to the facility—to its dangers and its own highs.
Things happened throughout the night and, much like with his awakening from Nandi, a lot was lost from memory. After the first round, Ezra was bold enough to ask Erin if he could visit her office to look for Alice’s book.
“What do you want with that?” Garros said, only mildly interested.
“Nothing. I just want it,” was all he could say, and Ezra noticed Akiva’s eyes on him.
“Yeah, whatever,” Erin said and slid a fresh drink towards Ezra. “Forget about that for now.”
Sometime later, a casually dressed Barnes and a smaller blond man walked into the pub; he was welcomed with loud cheers from everyone—even Ezra. The smaller man was Barnes’ husband: Luke. He shook Ezra’s hand with a firm grip and told him it was a great honor to meet him. Ezra wondered how aware of Besoe Nandi and Zenith Luke was, but didn’t ask.
Sometime later, while conversing with Erin and Tessa, he noticed Garros talking with Akiva next to the bar. He was worried for a moment, but their conversation appeared to be one of drunken friendship. They were talking with their limited faculties about topics they should discuss soberly. Ezra didn’t care how it happened: he just wanted them to be friends or at least tolerate one another.
Sometime later, Ezra saw Jena and Akiva kissing. It was a sight he hated, so he turned away to find Garros and Erin talking. Garros was crying, and Ezra assumed he was venting his feelings about Alice’s death and the mystery of his own survival—a feeling he shared with Ezra.
Sometime later, he was telling Poole about his conversation with Rebecca. Sometime later, he saw Garros and Erin kissing. Sometime later, he was sharing his deepest insecurities and fears with Jed and Tessa: two people he barely knew. Sometime later, he was laughing on the floor. Sometime later, he was crying, and not doing it alone. Sometime later, he was wiping blood from his face, feeling proud about something, but not sure what.
Sometime later, it was daylight in Roue and he was on the train back to Zenith, leaving the city behind.
He wouldn’t remember the moment he slipped into bed, or any of the dreams that followed.
“Does it hurt?” Jena asked in a groggy voice, taking a huge sip of her coffee.
“It does,” Ezra said and looked around at the dining hall. It felt like every pair of eyes in Zenith was fixed on the group and their terrible disposition. “It hurts a lot, but I don’t know what to do about it.”
It was a Sunday, so Ezra had the mercy of several extra hours of sleep. He didn’t wake to take part in the two hours specifically designated for sport and physical training, so for the first time since his arrival at Zenith, Ezra woke up at noon.
Yet, despite having slept for a reasonable amount of time, out of all the pilots who had joined in their celebration, only Jed and Tessa seemed to be in decent shape (Jed couldn’t drink because of the medication, and Tessa didn’t like to drink). The rest were also feeling the weight of a thousand-pound head, ready to return their breakfast.
But despite all the headaches and dizziness, none of them had brought back such a tangible souvenir of their night as Ezra.
“I can’t believe you did it,” said Akiva, reaching with his index finger to touch the irritated skin of Ezra’s nose. His eyes watered and he cried out in pain. “But it actually looks cool, if that helps.”
“It looks great,” said Garros
, eating a second serving of steak. All animosity between him and Akiva seemed to have disappeared, at least for now. It made Ezra feel a little better about the previous night. “You’re not thinking of taking it off are you? Just go to the nursery and have it checked for infection and you’ll be fine. That guy, Luke, did a pretty brutal job of it. You took it like a champ!” He slammed his hand against Ezra’s shoulder.
“I don’t know. I’ll probably take it off,” he said, scratching at the irritation in his nose and trying to remember the moment in which the piercing was made. He couldn’t.
“Aw, you’re gonna break Barnes’ heart,” said Jena. “It looks good, Ezra—really.”
“I think it becomes you,” said Poole. Though in a far more controlled manner, even she had joined in the drunken mirth of the previous night, revealing a more energetic and playful side.
Ezra sighed, but wanted to scream. How could he lose control of his drinking to the point of getting convinced to have his nose pierced? Seeing blood on his pillow after waking up and discovering the ring hanging from his nose and reaching down to his lip, boasting the colors of Besoe Nandi, had sent him running head-first towards the toilet.
He didn’t remember the last time he felt so embarrassed, even if a part of him liked the accessory; he wanted to have something to always remind him of this radical change in his life—a bull-like ring in his nose felt appropriate, if unsightly.
Still, if he had gone as far as mutilating his own body, what else had he done under the effects of drink? He made a silent vow never to let it happen again.
“It’s a good thing it’s Sunday. Other than the Grand Meeting tonight, we have very little to do,” Erin said and looked at Ezra, Poole, and Akiva. “Well you three have to write your reports but it will only take a few minutes. I don’t suppose anyone’s up for a game of cards . . . or a game of ball in the pitch?”
The Armor of God Page 19
