The Armor of God

by Diego Valenzuela

  “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—”

  She wasn’t finished before Jena grabbed the glass and took one great swallow. Everyone was taken by surprise, but began whooping and clapping when she brought it back down and wiped her mouth. Kiva remained uninvolved in the proceedings but angered by them.

  “Go to hell, that is wrecked,” Jena said, receiving a high-five from Erin, then one from Garros.

  Ezra took a deep breath and, taking everyone by surprise as well, brought it to his mouth and drank. Its texture was disgusting: granular and thick. He tried not to breathe so he could suppress the sour taste, but the instant it went down his throat, it threatened to close up. He coughed, felt like vomiting. Everyone was staring at him.

  He shut his eyes and swallowed.

  “Dammit!” he exclaimed once the drink was down, and the cheering and applause began.

  Garros slammed his huge hand on Ezra’s shoulder and laughed. “That’s my man!” he exclaimed, laughing. “Who’s next? Purple? Davenport?”

  When Kiva still refused, and instead finished his meal, Poole reluctantly took a drink. It was a small, shy drink, but it still made her wince. Her round of applause was no less enthusiastic.

  “Last drink,” Tessa said, and slid the glass towards Kiva.

  “Sorry, but I’m not drinking that,” he said firmly. “I don’t believe in bad luck.”

  “Do it, man,” Jena said with a smile, and put her hand on Kiva’s. “It’s not so bad.”


  “No, Jena. Sorry.” Kiva got up and walked towards the counter for another tray.

  “That’s his funeral,” Garros said, took the glass, and finished it off. He wiped his beard with his massive, tattooed forearm and slammed his hand on Ezra’s shoulder again. It was a strong hit but definitely friendly. “You three—good for you. Welcome! We’ll see you for dinner after you get your Creux assigned. There’s gonna be a party tonight. Your very pleasant friend is invited, too.”

  Ezra looked at Kiva and wondered why he had refused to drink the shake so obstinately. That was the behavior of someone who had experienced bullying, but considering Akiva’s size and personality, this idea was hard to believe.

  When Kiva returned, the others had dispersed and the table was silent.

  After the meal, Ezra’s day continued as scheduled. The compatibility lab was more impressively equipped than any hospital he had ever seen. He was in a small examination room, but a window gave him a view into the lab itself, and the sight was almost blinding. Everything was glowing blue and white, and he couldn’t recognize almost any of the machines in there.

  Ezra had been asked to remove his uniform. As it was a big jumpsuit, removing it had left him almost naked. He had also been told to sit on the examination table and wait for the process to begin. It would all be automated, and that was a worrying thought: Ezra didn’t trust machines and would have preferred the process to be carried out by a human being.

  After about ten minutes of waiting, he heard three beeps that made him turn toward a flat screen hanging on the wall like a framed picture. The letter Z spun on the screen as the computer booted up, then unfolded into the Zenith logo and placed itself in the corner with the quirky notes of tubular bells.

  Welcome, Ezra Blanchard, a message appeared, followed by a little smiling face. We will start the compatibility test now. Are you ready? Then, another smiling face that, instead of reassuring Ezra, just made him feel strange. Please insert your right arm into the Blood and Tissue Extractor. : )

  “Into the what?”

  A machine was lowered from the ceiling, coming to a halt at eye level. It was a large white tube. The inside of the cylinder was red and cushioned. Ezra looked into it, unsure. He didn’t want to make a mistake that could cost him his arm.

  A beep. Are you afraid? It will not hurt! : )

  “Hoooh boy,” Ezra sighed and slowly inserted his arm into the tube. With no warning, the cushioned inside inflated, trapping his arm inside. A rush of panic overtook him like a wave, and he tried to extract his arm, but it was too tightly gripped.

  A beep. We will now start with the blood extraction. How fun! : )

  Ezra yelped when he felt two sharp stabs: one in the wrist and another in the joint between his arm and forearm. Blood was immediately drawn; he could see it pooling inside a transparent packet hanging at the sides of the machine.

  A beep, and a message: We’re almost done! : )

  The cushions deflated and Ezra pulled his arm out. It hurt, but there was barely a mark where the needles had pierced his flesh.

  Please insert your left arm into the Blood and Tissue Extractor. : )

  “No way in hell!” Ezra said.

  Please insert your left arm into the Blood and Tissue Extractor? : (

  “No, it hurt.”

  Please insert your left arm into the Blood and Tissue Extractor? : (

  “Where’s Dr. Mizrahi?”

  Please insert your left arm into the Blood and Tissue Extractor! >: (

  The last face worried Ezra more than it should. He knew the machine wouldn’t hurt him, but he still didn’t want to get in a fight. “Fine,” he said and put his arm inside the tube. Once more, the cushioned inside inflated, trapping his left arm.

  The sudden mechanical sound of a buzz saw made him sweat cold. He looked up at the source of the noise and felt faint when, through an acrylic window on the side of the machine, he saw an actual surgical saw descending towards his wrist. “Help!” he yelled, trying to draw out his arm.

  The saw approached his arm. He could feel it cutting his flesh.

  “Help!”

  The machine stopped. Then retreated.

  Just kidding! We’re done! : )

  “What the dusty hell!” Ezra yelled, and the cushions deflated. He pulled his arm back so quickly he almost fell off the examination table. The entire contraption began ascending again and all but disappeared into the roof.

  Still sweating, Ezra examined his arm. In the panic caused by the saw, he hadn’t noticed the tissue extraction, but it had definitely taken place. Halfway down his left forearm, there was a small gap in his flesh the machine had covered with a tiny white patch for healing.

  Thank you for your samples, we’ll take care of them! Have a nice day, Ezra Blanchard! ^_^

  Back in his uniform, Ezra was moved to the main laboratory chamber, where he joined Jena, Kiva, and Poole. They were surrounded by machines and computers that seemed to be busy. “Are you okay? You look pale,” Jena said.

  “The little joke—I didn’t think it was funny,” Ezra said and wiped sweat off his forehead.

  “What little joke?” Kiva asked.

  “The thing with the—” Ezra began, but then realized they hadn’t been subjects to the computer’s terrible sense of humor. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “You got the saw thing, didn’t you?” a familiar voice said. The group turned to face Alice in full Zenith uniform. The logo of her Creux, the minimalist shadow of a suit of armor against a blue circle with the words ABSOLUTE OMEGA, was proudly patched on her chest. “Your friend Garros got it too when he got here. Dr. Mizrahi coded that into the extractor. She has a strange sense of humor,” she said. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jena, Kiva, and Poole said, and Ezra joined in a little too late.

  “You remember me: I’m First Lieutenant Alice Nolan, and I’m the current leader of the Creux Defense Squad, which is to say I’m in charge of managing every Creux pilot in Zenith. The moment these machines determine which Creux is your match, you will become part of the Creux Defense Squad. You will be assigned a dormitory and a crew of either two or three people who will be in charge of maintaining your Creux and helping you in training.”

  “Ma’am, why is this lab so empty?” asked Kiva.

  “It’s not,” Alice said and pointed to the wall behind them. Ten feet above ground there was a black window. “Behind that is the observation and control deck of the lab. Dr. Mizrahi and her crew are watching, expecting your results. However, thanks to the work of Dr. Mizrahi and her sister Dahlia, may she rest in peace, a lot of Zenith functions automatically. It is important for Roue to keep this place a secret, so we try to function with as few employees as possible. I don’t expect the machines will take much longer. Feel free to use this time to ask me any questions you have. If I’m allowed to answer, I will.”

  Forty more minutes passed before the computers finished analyzing their blood and tissue samples. Alice answered questions about life in Zenith, training, and classes, but never about the Creux themselves. Still, Ezra wondered if she didn’t know the answers, or if she was not cleared to reveal them yet.

  The huge screen in front of them came alive, displaying the revolving Z like the computer in the examination room had. Their results were ready.

  “This is exciting,” Akiva said with a huge smile.

  “It is,” Alice replied. “It always is.”

  A photograph of Poole appeared on the screen. It seemed recent, and Ezra didn’t remember having his photograph taken, though it wouldn’t surprise him if a machine had taken it without his noticing. Living in a facility with automated everythings was sure to make him feel vulnerable.

  All eyes went to Poole, who seemed as nervous as Ezra felt.

  VIVIAN BERENICE POOLE

  HEALTH OF TISSUE: IDEAL

  BLOOD TYPE: SIGMA

  BLOOD CLASS: B

  MATCHING CREUX:

  The machine took a moment to load more
information, as if trying to create tension.

  CREUX MODEL NUMBER C-15. CODENAME: ROSE XIBALBA

  Alice began to clap as Poole, Ezra, Jena, and Kiva joined in, as did the team of scientists in the observation deck behind the glass. Jena gave Poole a hug. “Congratulations!”

  Next up came the photograph of Jena. She dried sweaty palms on her uniform and brought her hands to her chin in a mix of excitement and anxiety.

  JENA ALEXANDRA CRESCENT

  HEALTH OF TISSUE: IDEAL

  BLOOD TYPE: BETA

  BLOOD CLASS: A

  MATCHING CREUX:

  Once again, the computer took a moment to load the results.

  CREUX MODEL NUMBER C-22. CODENAME: JADE ARJUNA

  “Oh she is awesome!” Alice said. “You got the one I would’ve loved to get.”

  Akiva hugged Jena as the round of applause and congratulations began. Next up was either him or Kiva. He wasn’t sure what was the significance of their assigned Creux, but he was extremely nervous to find out.

  When Jena’s results vanished, it was Ezra’s picture that came up on-screen.

  EZRA PATRICH BLANCHARD

  HEALTH OF TISSUE: GOOD

  BLOOD TYPE: BETA

  BLOOD CLASS: D

  MATCHING CREUX:

  He took a deep breath and held it in his lungs. He wanted to close his eyes, but couldn’t. What was happening? Why was the computer taking so long with his results? Did he even have a—?

  CREUX MODEL NUMBER C-21. CODENAME: BESOE NANDI

  ALSO KNOWN AS: THE MINOTAUR

  Ezra exhaled and coughed. He could barely register everyone’s applause and congratulations. He didn’t even notice Alice’s friendly smile and a wink he would’ve misconstrued as evocative. His eyes were glued to the screen.

  The Minotaur.

  What kind of Creux was it? What did it mean for him?

  Then, the moment had passed, and it was Akiva’s face that replaced Ezra’s results.

  “I know someone will be very jealous,” Alice said. “He always wanted to be the one to ride The Minotaur. There aren’t many left now,” Alice said. “And I didn’t get a single one right. My money was on Akiva getting Nandi and Ezra getting Xerxes.”