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bacon, and sausages fixed to look like a smiling face, as he always did when it was one of his children’s birthdays. Looking at that abstract face made him laugh for the first time in days.
    “Thank you, Dad,” Ezra said and began eating.
    “I heard from Dr. Mizrahi that you’re doing a physical test today,” Tara said, pouring what could be her second or third cup of tea. “How do you think you’ll fare? Better than in the Moreau?”
    “How do you know about the Moreau?”
    “Numbers fly,” she replied and winked, drinking her pleasantly scented tea that would always remind him of her.
    “I don’t know what they’ll make me do. If it’s running a few laps and doing some sit-ups, I’ll probably do fine.”

    Two hours later, Ezra was vomiting his breakfast all over his new boots.
    As he had told his mother, he was somewhat confident in his ability to perform in a physical test, supposing that it wasn’t a truly brutal affair. Though this could barely be classified as such, it was still an unexpected onslaught on a weakened body.
    He had said good-bye to his mother and father at the entrance to the base, where he found Susan waiting, a large black duffel bag in her hand. The corporal had saluted and greeted Tara Blanchard like she was talking to her CO, expressing what a great honor it was to work with a member of the Blanchard family.
    “We’re happy he’ll be working with Zenith, Corporal. He’s going to make you proud,” Tara had told her.
    “I am sure he will, ma’am. We’ll contact you later today and let you know what proceeds. Thank you for bringing him,” Susan replied before saluting and leading Ezra away. His mother was smiling when he walked into the base.
    Not slowing their pace, she put the black duffel bag in his hand. “You’re signing your contracts after the test today, so you’ll be wearing uniform at all times while you’re in the A-District base. In Zenith it might be different, but I’m still not certain; they do things their own way.”
    Still walking, he unzipped the bag to see what was inside: fatigues, underwear, socks, and boots. Not his first choice in clothing, but his mother had convinced him to stop resisting and let the army and Zenith transform him into what they willed, as it would be something greater.
    They reached a large field behind the base normally used to play sport but presently the setting for the training of dozens of soldiers. Ezra hoped his test would be taken elsewhere; he didn’t want to do it in front of so many strangers—he didn’t want to be made fun of.
    Susan led him to a locker room and stayed outside. “I’ll go wait for Jena. When you’re done changing, wait by the flagpole for Sergeant Barnes. I’ll see you for lunch when the test is over. There’s a lot we need to discuss, and someone you have to meet—another member of the program.”
    There’s a fourth one?
    Ezra had found the locker room almost empty except for Akiva and a woman stepping out of the adjacent shower stalls. Akiva had been sitting on a bench, all dressed up in uniform and boots, apparently waiting for Ezra so he wouldn’t have to be alone outside.
    “Morning,” he said, shaking his hand, and motioned at the uniform he was wearing. “How does it look?”
    “Like it fits,” he said, and it did. Akiva actually looked like a soldier, while he would look like a child wearing a costume. “Do I really need to wear their issued underwear? What’s wrong with mine?”
    “I don’t know, but I’m afraid so,” Akiva said and began to tighten the laces of his boots. “I don’t get it either.”
    Ezra stripped down to his skin and got dressed again with the clothes in his duffel bag. To his surprise, Susan’s eye had been very accurate, and the clothes fit him as well as they did Akiva, even if the fatigues hung more loosely on Ezra’s scrawny shoulders.
    “Pants go in the boots,” Akiva said, and showed how he had stuffed the bottom of the pants inside his