Peace Army by Steven L. Hawk

team had built. For never having seen or heard of them, Tane did a more-than-adequate-job of building the wheeled boots to Grant’s specifications.
    He had asked for two pairs—one for him and another for Eli. He told Tane to be ready with a third set in case Avery expressed an interest.
    “Rolla blades?”
    “Roll- er blades,” Grant corrected as he kicked off his boots and slipped his feet into the wheeled shoes. “Go ahead and put yours on. We’re gonna take these things out for a trial run.”
    “Suh-weet!” Eli pumped his right arm up and down, then plopped down to the floor and tugged at his own pair of boots.
    “Grant, are those things safe?” Avery asked. The motherly concern in her voice gave him pause, but only for a moment. He wanted this time to be memorable for Eli.
    “Um. Sure, hon,” Grant replied, suddenly unable to look his wife in the eye.
    He doubted there would be a need for the third pair.
     
    * * *
     
    Despite a few bruises, they had a blast once Eli caught on and could control his blades. The boy was a quick study, as always. After the first thirty minutes, most spent teaching Eli how to stop safely, the five-year-old could keep up with the easy pace set by Grant.
    They spent the next thirty minutes terrorizing and entertaining the soldiers and civilians working in the former prison, none of whom had ever seen anything like the roller blades.
    Eli got a kick out of rolling quickly up on unsuspecting individuals and tapping them on the leg as he flew past. The surprised yells and sideways jumps were priceless and Grant soon joined in. Eli would tap-pass someone on the left and, as the stunned person watched Eli roll quickly away, Grant would repeat the maneuver on the right. Grant felt weightless and free for the first time in years as he watched his son weave in and out between the surprised residents of the Outer Square.
    Grant called a halt to the tap-pass game after Eli scared a middle-aged woman carrying a tray of dishes outside one of the large chow halls. The result was not pretty. Although she was dressed in the gray overalls of a civilian worker, the biting stare she sent Grant’s way told him she was a soldier at heart. The piercing look held little Peace, despite the mantra she repeated over and over. Grant apologized profusely as he and Eli helped the woman clean up the mess of broken plates and glasses.
    Once the mess was cleaned, Grant and Eli sped away from the scene. Grant had his tail planted firmly between his legs. Eli, on the other hand, seemed to think the episode was hilarious. Once out of the old woman’s sight, he laughed and chatted excitedly about the experience and the woman’s reaction to their game.
    Grant committed every second of the outing to memory. He hoped Eli would remember this time together with the same clarity and joy that his dad would.
    As they headed back to their quarters, they approached one of the boys’ orphanages located in the giant building. Many of the children living there would become the future soldiers of Earth. The transition from kids into fighters was still years down the road, but the fact that it might be needed at all made Grant’s heart ache. It was a situation he both deplored and understood. He deplored the fact that these kids had been abandoned by parents too weak or cowardly to do what needed to be done to save their race. His parents would never have consigned him to such a fate, had they been given a choice. But he also understood that the parents’ weakness was no fault of their own. It was a result of the society in which they had been raised. This was a double-edged sword, and he hated that the Minith had forced them to wield it.
    As he and Eli neared the orphanage, Grant saw a half dozen or so youngsters posted outside the entrance. He knew the young groups kept lookouts posted and had always encouraged the practice. This was the first time he had seen them jump into action, though. At a nod from one of the older