The Armor of God

by Diego Valenzuela

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Ezra asked.

  Barnes bit his lip, embarrassed by what he was about to say. “No one thought the threat was real, Blanchard; we were sure even Governor Heath wouldn’t go as far as destroying something as precious as a Creux, and we didn’t want to make you more nervous than you already were. When your mother told us, it seemed absurd, but Vivian thought of a solution for a worst-case scenario: we’d use your Equivalency Suit to trick Governor Heath. Vivian’s plan was very last-second, and I didn’t know if she had pulled it off when we left this morning, which is why I didn’t say anything. Not even your mother or Erin knew of it; the reactions you saw were entirely genuine, and the vids are probably going to be helpful for the cause. In the end, you won’t be training in suit for a while, but Nandi is right there.”

  Ezra laughed and hugged Poole. “Thank you.” He looked at Barnes and Akiva. “Really.”

  “Seriously, I helped too!” Jena protested. “You know, spiritually.”

  “Thank you as well,” said Ezra, noticing that all the operation systems for Besoe Nandi were functional, like they were when he was about to launch, but the Synchronization Capsule was not there. “What’s happening now?”

  “Poole’s trick can only work if Besoe Nandi disappears from Zenith,” said Kat. “The plan has been changed, Blanchard. You will have to leave Zenith with Perry and Parks, and it will have to happen much sooner than we anticipated.”

  Ezra looked around the room. “You can’t expect me to—”

  “I don’t,” Kat said. “You should probably know that if I had to make a choice, I would vote against sending you on the Milos Ravana operation, but Director Blanchard makes a strong case: Zenith will be opened for the media to visit soon as part of her campaign, and Besoe Nandi’s presence jeopardizes the whole thing. It has to go, and joining the search operation will be its best use.”

  “No, but how are you supposed to explain my disappearance if I’m not here? How will you explain the other Creuxen’s disappearance? I thought you needed me for the campaign.”

  “Yes, we need you,” said Barnes. “We need you to get the hell away from Zenith. Besoe Nandi cannot be seen. What happened this morning called for unexpected and massive alterations of your mother’s plans, and we will find a way to work around the new variables.”

  Ezra looked out at Nandi’s eyes again, pulling at his nose ring and trying to absorb and comprehend the new future put before him; he couldn’t, however, as it was still shrouded in a dark veil. “Who else is going, besides Erin and Garros?”

  “Either Vivian or Jena, depending on Erin; it’s her choice,” said Barnes. “Milos Ravana is an integral part of the whole act in defense of Zenith, so it must stay, and so does Akiva. The other active pilot that was considered to join was Tessa, but she strongly opposed the idea of having three Creuxen leave, never mind four. When she refused, we recommended Jena or Vivian.”

  His eyes went from one of the girls to the other. “Tessa is probably the best pilot right now, maybe even better than Erin,” he mused, remembering the short-lived but strong moments of affection he had shared with the quiet pilot of Isis Nineteen. It was a selfish thought, but he would welcome her company outside the domes. “Can’t she be convinced?”

  “Tessa thinks she can provide a greater service for Zenith and Roue if she stays,” Kat said. “I don’t disagree with her. She is quiet, but she is eloquent and diplomatic; she can support your mother’s efforts here. If she needs convincing, it’s Erin’s job to do so. Yours is to prepare for a launch only two days from now.”

  “Two days!” Ezra yelled.

  “Two days,” she confirmed. “Don’t expect an explanation from me, Blanchard. I was raised in a military family. I’ve served for as many years as you’ve been able to walk, and I don’t believe in these sloppy strategies. But it’s not for me to decide; my job is to make sure my superiors’ wishes are accomplished as flawlessly as possible, and that means you need to suit up and learn the new Creux launch protocols before dawn, as discreetly as possible.”

  Ezra thanked Akiva, Jena, and Poole again, and went to prepare. They didn’t know it, but when Jena and Poole left to get some sleep, it was the last time the four of them would ever be together.

  The launch protocols Kat had spoken of referred to the entirely new way to board and synchronize with Besoe Nandi. Throughout every operation and test, Ezra had been safe within the confines of the Synchronization Capsule and the docking chamber. Now, he had to learn to quickly board Nandi from outside the chamber, where the Egg had been relocated.

  Barnes and Kat, as taught by Garros, had prepared this final training session to be kept as a total secret. Outside of the group’s memories, there would be no record that the unauthorized synchronization had been made, as any trace of Nandi’s presence in Zenith could destroy the plan to save the facility.

  One more time, Ezra dressed in the skin-tight suit that optimized synchronization. Akiva and Kat, the only ones whose ID cards had clearance to enter the docking bay, accompanied him down a new elevator, through a hallway, and into the station. Ezra had never been in such a large room. All gray iron, the ceiling stretched up nearly seventy feet high and nearly thrice as long in width. The docking area was designed to house at least fifteen enormous Creux, and Ezra calculated it took at least one fourth of the entire Zenith construct.

  He was overwhelmed by the enormity of the place, but more so by the sheer size of the Creuxen docked therein. Immediately in front of him, he saw the huge gray feet belonging to Iron Seraphim, the Creux piloted by Felix Goodwin—one of the older pilots Ezra had never managed to befriend.

  Kat pressured him to keep moving, so they walked past Iron Seraphim, and found Phoenix Atlas, Erin’s Creux, whom he would accompany to the outside world. After Atlas, he came upon the largest and most imposing Creux: Garros’ Quantum Ares. Like the others, this humanoid tower of steel gave the mistaken impression of instability, like it was too heavy for its legs and could topple over at any time. James Caldwell’s Black Ellipsis and Tessa’s Isis Nineteen were the next ones. Of these two, he had only seen Isis in action and the relatively small Creux was a wonderful fighter: nimble and quick, it could destroy Flecks with remarkable ease, especially with someone as skilled as Tessa in control.

  Then finally, he came upon Besoe Nandi. Ezra stood between the Minotaur’s red feet and looked up, not able to frame the entire thing within eyeshot. He couldn’t imagine the horror the citizens of Roue must have felt when a thing this big and this strong suddenly broke through the dome, killing a giant creature before their eyes. “Wow.”

  “They look different from down here, don’t they?” said Akiva, and pointed at Milos Ravana. The Armor of God was still the most striking Creux to look at, eye level or otherwise. Of a size with Nandi, it was as strong as Ares and as quick as Isis. And whatever race of creatures had designed it knew how to both strike fear and inspire awe. Not one of the other Creuxen in the bay looked as powerful.

  “Blanchard, I need your attention here,” Kat said, and her voice barely made an echo, almost lost in the huge docking bay. Ezra gave Nandi his back and saw Kat standing near a platform labeled with a stenciled number 14. Ezra could tell by the tracks rising up the wall behind the platform that it was actually an elevator.

  “Where’s the Egg? Where does it even go?” asked Ezra.

  “The hollow space in the Creux’s lower thorax, adjacent to its T-Core: it’s called the Apse. This platform will get us up there, then you will climb to this space. The Egg is already in place. You see it?” Kat asked. “We’ve programmed Nandi’s OS so the hatch closes when you synchronize and opens when you’re out. It will do this automatically.”

  Ezra looked up and noticed an opening in Nandi’s navel, twenty-five feet from the floor.

  “It’s scary,” Akiva said, grinning in a way that made light of a desperate situation. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

  Accompanied by Kat, the platfo
rm took him up slowly, then forward as if docking with Nandi. It was then that Ezra realized that, when wearing only his own flesh, he in fact did not like heights. The step he needed to take from the platform to the opening in Nandi’s navel felt like a deathly gamble, but after an unsure jump he found himself inside the Minotaur, in an entirely new way.

  The Apse, the hollow space where the Egg had been installed—apparently the place where it truly belonged before Dr. Dahlia Mizrahi chose to operate remotely—was not built as a regular chamber, but merely a gap in the Creux’s iron flesh. It was dark, but he could see it had indeed been designed to be boarded this way. He grabbed two handles on the inside walls and climbed into the Egg, which was almost empty of Synchronization Fluid. “Why is it so dry?”

  “You’ll have to make do without the Fluid, even if it’s uncomfortable,” Kat said from outside. “And you’ll have to open and close the Egg manually. I’m going back to the docking chamber to prepare. Get inside.”

  Ezra saw her descend and fully hid himself in the Egg. He grabbed the lid and slid it towards him. It shut down to total darkness, and then there was only a white dot blinking between his feet.

  It’s not over, Nandi whispered, and it was sweet in his ear. We’re not done here yet.

  The process of synchronization was similar in how it felt, but there was something different when being inside of Nandi. The sensation of absolute safety, of total invulnerability, was almost gone. Even when looking in at Kat and Barnes programming Nandi inside the docking chamber, Ezra could almost feel himself lost among the warmth of the Minotaur’s T-Core, knowing that for the first time, harm done to the Creux could mean harm done to him.

  You’re closer now. You’re here, he said.

  The most difficult part was not the synchronization, as it was still as simple as falling asleep, it was the detachment. Separating himself from Nandi could no longer be done forcibly through the computers; it would have to be his own conscious choice. Kat was ruthless in training him to disengage from Nandi, never offering the computers’ help, because he wouldn’t have it outside of Zenith.

  After many failed trials, Ezra had begun to feel intense desperation. As it always was when inside the bay, Nandi’s whole body was locked, so Ezra could not move. Neither could he escape the prison of the Minotaur’s body, so it began to feel like a nightmare from which he couldn’t wake.

  It took him long to understand that he would have to use Nandi’s help. Throughout every operation, he had grown to commune with the spirit, to control its ill temper and forge a relationship.

  The link was strong, and for the first time it felt like an imposition and not an advantage. Understanding that this great body belonged to that spirit, and not to Ezra, was the first step to controlling the connection.

  I need out.

  Out where?

  I need to get out of here.

  This is where you belong. This is your body. We are the creature. The guardian of the maze . . .

  Nandi continued to speak, senseless words echoing farther and farther away, and as they took foreign shapes, Ezra began to feel its grip on his mind loosening, releasing him.

  And then, there was the blinking light, and the dark of the Egg.

  As practice, Ezra had to synchronize and then fight to detach himself from Nandi several times. The Creux seemed to resent Ezra for these actions; he would growl and passive-aggressively comment on Ezra’s apparent indecisiveness, not understanding the situation. Why do you come back? Where did you go? Leave.

  Return.

  Throughout the night, Ezra’s system of separation through communication began to improve, but still he wished he wouldn’t soon need to disengage with urgency, or it would be a problem.

  “Can you hear me?” Barnes said after the seventh or eighth synchronization. Unlike the times before this change in protocol, the voices came only once: through the aural link.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Ezra. “I can hear you.”

  “We’re going to have to set up a new aural network for Nandi, Blanchard,” said Kat. “All the aural communication links are based on Zenith’s computers; when you’re out, you won’t be able to communicate with Quantum Ares or Phoenix Atlas. I’m working around it, and if we pull it off, the link will not be very clear or very stable, but you’ll be able to communicate with each other, Creux to Creux.”

  Her voice was still lifeless, further proof of her reluctance to take part in the whole ordeal.

  “Blanchard, it’s gonna take me some time, so if you’re confident you’ve learned the new protocols, come back inside and go get some sleep.”

  Akiva had waited for Ezra down by Nandi’s feet for hours. He welcomed Ezra with unwarranted congratulations and a lot of questions. He had been training in this type of synchronization protocol for a long time, so he could provide with some instruction—or at least Ezra hoped. It soon became clear, however, that Milos Ravana never fought Akiva to remain synchronized; in something that was still a mystery, Milos Ravana appeared to be the only Creux without a temperament: its T-Core was void of thought.

  “Before we go back, I need to talk to you,” Akiva said, and started towards Milos Ravana. Confused, Ezra followed. “It’s been a while since we talked. Did you know most of the pilots thought we were childhood friends when we arrived?”

  “I didn’t know that,” he replied.

  “Well, we gave them reason to think so back then.”

  “If this is about that whole thing with Rebecca and Garros, it’s okay.”

  “Hear me out,” Akiva insisted. “I realize I’ve been a bit hermetic since we met, and I’ve been practicing this whole speech for a while. The day I went to the army camp, when we thought we’d start our military service, was something I had been looking forward to for a long time. I thought that I would meet new people, get new skills, have a complete change in the life I had.”

  “Well you got that,” Ezra said.

  Akiva laughed. “I don’t like talking about my past because, well . . . I’m not proud of it. The only one I’ve talked to about it is Jena.”

  Ezra looked away from him and at Milos’ feet. A plate on its ankle displayed the triangular figure they had been trying to understand for weeks. It was then that Ezra made the simple connection: the blacked out circle on the top angle could represent Milos itself, as part of something bigger: something three times bigger.

  “I told Jena because we had something in common: We’re both adopted,” he said.

  “Jena was adopted?” Ezra said, looking back at Akiva.

  “Yes. Leonardo wasn’t her biological dad, but he took her into his family when she was just a kid and gave her a home,” he said. “I wasn’t so lucky. It’s common in a world like this, but I never knew my parents. I was a crappy kid, and I could never stay with one foster family for very long.”

  Ezra saw that it was very difficult for Akiva to share this, and he wondered why. Like he had said, being an orphan was not at all uncommon, and certainly not something that should shame him.

  “I could never be friends with any of my foster brothers, and everywhere I went, I was bullied,” Akiva said.

  “You were bullied?”

  “Don’t sound surprised. I used to be about your size until a few years ago, and a little kid who was good in school, who couldn’t defend himself, and who had a bad attitude to boot, couldn’t make many friends. I seemed to attract bullies, even outside school. Kids who would remind me I never knew my parents, pushed me around, beat me up.”

  “A lot of kids get that, I suppose,” Ezra said, eyes on Milos Ravana.

  “Not many get the chance to turn the tables. I had a late growth spurt and for the first time felt what it was like for all those guys who picked on me, knowing I couldn’t fight back. So I did stupid things I regret. It wasn’t even that long ago but I still look back and cringe. I had promised myself never to turn into a bully, and I did,” he said. “That is why when you went to Rebecca behind my back—”

&n
bsp; “I said it was okay.”

  “I was still devastated about Susan. I couldn’t sleep at night because Alice’s screams kept replaying in my head. I even began to wonder if I was responsible for what happened in some way,” he said.

  “You weren’t!”

  “Still, it made me feel like a piece of crap. I went to the army base wanting to get a blank slate, forget about everything I was and become someone new: someone people would like. I suddenly felt like I was . . . I don’t know, reverting? I know telling you my pathetic life story isn’t going to change what I almost did, but maybe it might help you understand a little. You’re leaving Zenith and, well, I wanted to say something before you did.”

  Ezra didn’t know what to say. He nodded stupidly, and Akiva smiled.

  “Also, I knew that you liked Jena when I went after her,” he said, and Ezra’s stomach hurt. “I want you to know that I’m sorry if you felt hurt or betrayed, but I don’t regret it. I don’t know if your feelings for her have changed, but you should know she’s been great for me. We have a lot of things in common—”

  “It’s okay,” Ezra said, not wishing to talk about the subject any more.

  Akiva picked up on it. “Yeah. Thank you for listening.”

  Ezra smiled and gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Have you talked to Dr. Yuri about all this?”

  “No,” Akiva said. “I told Susan when she was a counselor here, but not Dr. Yuri. I’ll do it today, maybe. He said he had something important to discuss with me, so I’m going to talk to him later. I hear he’s been a little loopy lately. He’s barely left his office.”

  “Yeah,” Ezra said, and remembered the terrifying moment he had in Dr. Yuri’s office two nights earlier. Ezra wondered if he should have told someone about the man’s drunkenness and behavior. About the pistol.