Caleb watched his name disappear from the draft board. The purple message stayed on his visor all the way to the quartermaster's cage.
He put the surplus chest plate on the counter. The helmet followed. Its cracked glass caught the strip light above the cage.
The quartermaster scanned both pieces, checked the assignment, and slid a black metal pin through the opening.
Seventh Division.
Caleb closed his good hand around it. He had expected an access tag for the disposal yard. The small difference in his palm made him stop beside the locker-room door before he went through.
Inside, he sat on a bench and worked a thumbnail beneath the comms chip's adhesive. His scalp stung as he pulled it loose.
"Put it back," the tiny speaker said. "I want to hear the celebration."
Caleb looked around the empty room. He had missed whatever announcement she meant.
He buried the chip in his jacket pocket and took out his apartment keys.
The doors opened. Suzu came in with her braced leg held stiff and a crutch tucked under one arm. She stopped to look along the lockers, found him, and let the door swing shut. She caught the frame when the brace pulled at her thigh.
"You're leaving?"
"I own a bed. I'd like to use it."
"Medical expected you back after the draft."
"They'll have me tonight." She shifted the crutch under her arm. "The graduating class is expected at the Neon Serpent. Captains will be there."
He looked at her pressed uniform, then at the worn canvas around his own elbows.
"You dressed for them?"
"I dressed for my assignment."
"It's a tavern."
"Yes. I know what a tavern is."
She adjusted a cuff. The movement pulled at the wraps beneath her collar, and she stopped with one finger under the edge of the sleeve.
Caleb put his keys away.
"How far?"
"The transit rail stops nearby."
He stood, leaving his bad arm close to his side. "Lead on, Commander."
Suzu opened the door for him without answering the title.
***
The train took an hour. Suzu sat upright beside the window, her braced leg stretched into the space beneath the opposite seat and the crutch across her lap. When the carriage lurched, she gripped the crutch and closed her eyes until her breathing steadied. Caleb leaned his head against the glass. They let the carriage noise fill the ride.
At the Neon Serpent, recruits crowded the entrance around two veterans arguing over a replay. Event-feed cameras hung above the tables, their red tally lights sweeping the booths. Suzu edged past the veterans sideways to protect her leg. Caleb followed the path she made.
Beer had soaked into the floorboards. Grilled meat smoked behind the bar. The music was loud enough that Caleb felt it through his boots before he heard it clearly.
A microphone squealed.
Barrett stood on an oak table near the middle of the room. The Second Division captain held a glass beside him. Nell waited at the bar, one elbow resting on the counter.
"Defense Force covers the drinks," Barrett said. "Your divisions cover you after tonight. Report to your housing sectors before zero-eight-hundred. Orientation starts on time, whether you're there or not."
A recruit near Caleb raised his cup. Barrett waited for him to lower it.
"You made intake. That isn't the same as surviving your first deployment. Learn the names of the people beside you. You'll need to know who to call when the line breaks."
He handed the microphone to the bartender. Someone started cheering, and the music came back before the room could settle into silence.
Caleb collected ice water and found a booth away from the speakers. His ribs hurt when he bent to sit. He waited for the ache to pass before sliding farther along the bench.
Kei arrived with two platters of skewers.
"Third Division," he said, putting them down. "I checked the badge twice. The quartermaster thought I was asking for another one."
Caleb took a skewer. "Keep the spare. You can lend it to me when the Seventh gets tired of feeding me."
"They're going to need a bigger kitchen."
Taichi slid into the opposite seat and took a skewer off Kei's platter. A civilian jacket hid his uniform, but he still had the bandage across his nose.
"First meal hasn't even finished and you're begging for transfers."
Caleb kept eating. "Kei offered."
"I didn't offer a transfer."
"Don't help him," Taichi said.
Kei took out his datapad. "I'm making a cross-division thread. Schedules, combat zones, whatever changes. We should know where everyone is."
"I have a division channel."
"Which Caleb can't read. Neither can Suzu."
Taichi looked toward the other booths. "I'm not joining your support group."
Caleb set down the stripped skewer. "Put him in anyway. He'll want to know if somebody beats his score."
Taichi pulled out his own datapad and entered his frequency. He pushed it across the table hard enough to knock a cup against Kei's wrist.
"Post accurate numbers."
Kei caught the cup. "I'll try to resist improving yours."
Suzu eased onto the bench beside Caleb and set her crutch against the wall. She had undone the top fastening of her collar. For a while she watched Kei correct the thread settings that Taichi kept changing.
"The chest plate was rated for a building collapse," she said.
Caleb turned toward her. She held her drink with both hands, resting the cup on the table rather than lifting it.
"Three seconds," she said. "That's how long it took to go through. I couldn't get enough air to call for help."
He moved the platter within her reach. She did not take anything.
"My father will have the replay already. A Shishido shouldn't bleed in a trial zone."
"That trial zone had a Class-6 in it."
"He'll ask why I didn't account for that."
Caleb looked at the brace beneath the table. "Tell him the building-collapse warranty didn't cover teeth."
Her mouth moved, but the laugh caught in her injured chest. She set the cup down and waited before speaking again.
"You could have left me."
"And returned a damaged prototype? Guild would charge me for the whole thing."
Suzu looked at his old jacket, then at the tape showing above its collar. Her hand moved toward him.
"What?" he asked.
She folded the frayed canvas away from the dressing. Her knuckles brushed his neck.
"One-point-two percent. You can barely move that arm. Why did you run at it?"
"It had you pinned."
"I know where I was."
"Then you know why I couldn't wait."
A woman leaned over the end of the table.
"Are you inspecting my new recruit, Shishido?"
Suzu let go of his collar.
The woman's red hair was cut short on one side. Scar tissue showed along the forearms beneath her rolled sleeves. She looked over the food, the datapads, and Caleb's bandaged arm before dragging a chair to the booth.
"Mabel Bristow. Seventh Division spearhead."
Caleb straightened enough to face her. "Treadwell."
"I know. Barrett's charity pick."
"He earned his place," Suzu said.
"Nell bought the place," Barrett said from behind Mabel.
The recruits at the next table moved their chairs in. Barrett stepped into the gap and rested one hand on the booth's worn back.
"First took a ranking penalty," he told Caleb. "Seventh took you. Keep those separate. I haven't seen you do a day's work for my division yet."
Caleb put his glass on the table. "When do I report?"
"Before eight. After that, you do what Bristow tells you. We handle the breaches the other divisions don't want. Nobody out there will stop because you're an emergency selection."
Suzu sat forward. Her brace struck the table leg.
"He found the Honju's joint while everyone else was firing into its shell. Put him where he can use that."
Barrett looked down at her. "I have a vice captain for deployment decisions."
"And she should hear what happened."
Mabel's gaze went from Suzu to Caleb. He resisted the urge to pull the jacket back over the dressing.
"I'll hear it tomorrow," Mabel said. "Then we'll see what he can repeat."
Barrett lifted his hand from the booth. "Get some sleep, Treadwell. A favor doesn't excuse a late report."
Mabel left with him. At the next table, the recruits eased their chairs back out as soon as the captain passed.
Kei looked down at the completed thread on his datapad.
"You're in," he told Caleb.
Caleb checked the new notification. Kei, Taichi, Suzu, himself. He saved the channel before putting the device away.
Suzu still watched the gray uniforms moving through the room. She checked her ward band and reached for the crutch.
"I need to pack," Caleb said.
He slid out of the booth and left a few credit chits for the staff beside his glass. At the door, he found his keys in the same pocket as the comms chip. The speaker stirred against his fingers.
He let go of it and stepped into the cold.