by Kim Curran
“For us, anyway,” I said, thumbing her cheek. “Not so much for Zac.”
Aubrey stiffened and pulled her hand away. “Zac has only himself to blame. He had a choice: go straight or…”
“Go straight to prison, do not pass go,” I said.
She shrugged. “Something like that.”
That bubble of jealousy made a full comeback. “About you and Zac?”
Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I was wondering when we’d get to this.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “Just tell me. Were you and him… a thing?”
Aubrey leant back. “Are you asking me if I ever slept with Zac?”
I coughed. “Well, not exactly. But did you?”
Aubrey gasped, her mouth making a perfect “O”. “Of course not.”
“Oh, good. So, what did you do then?”
“Stop it, Scott. You don’t want to know.”
I really did want to know. “You can tell me. I’ll be OK with it.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, trying to reassure her that whatever she had to say would be OK. Even though I was dreading the answer.
“Nothing ever happened with us. Well…”
“Well, what?” Her pause was enough to make the blood drain from my head.
“There was this night, when Zac had just got hold of the simulators and we messed around with them. We did some stuff. But it wasn’t real, you know?”
That’s what Aubrey kept saying about the sims. That whatever you experienced while hooked up wasn’t real. But Zac had said they were as real as it gets. I twisted away from her, trying not to think about the kinds of stuff she and Zac might have got up to.
“Scott, look at me.” It was a struggle but I managed to face her again.
“It was nothing. I was a stupid kid who wanted to try everything, experience everything just once. And the sims seemed a good way to do that. But it just felt… fake. What we have, Scott, you and me,” she rested her hand on my chest and I could feel my heart pound beneath it, “is real. More real and more intense than anything I ever experienced while hooked up to a bunch of wires. OK?”
I placed my hand over hers, not wanting her to go anywhere. Not wanting this moment to end. “OK,” I said, after a while.
She smiled at me and rested her head on my shoulder again. I reached into my pocket. There was something I’d been carrying around for weeks, waiting for the right time to give to Aubrey. I pulled my hand out. It could wait.
“Aren’t you worried about people seeing us?” I said, nudging her slightly.
“Screw ‘em,” she said, entwining her fingers between mine.
“But I thought you were embarrassed to be seen with me?”
Aubrey laughed and looked up at me. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I understand, honestly. I mean, I’m embarrassed to be seen with me most of the time.”
Aubrey shook her head a little and smiled at me. “Oh, Scott. Have you seen you?”
I chewed my cheek as I looked at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes,” she said, leaning in for a gentle kiss. “And that’s exactly how I want to keep it.”
She kissed me again and the world melted away. All the worries about Project Ganymede, about the Prime Minister’s visit tomorrow, all of it disappeared as I drew her into me. Nothing was too much to deal with as long as I was with Aubrey.
I felt a buzzing in my jacket and tried to ignore it. But Aubrey pushed me away gently. “It might be HQ,” she said.
I checked my phone. It was a text from Katie.
MUM AND DAD ARE AT IT AGAIN. WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME?
“Everything OK?” Aubrey asked.
“Yeah, it’s just Katie. I should probably head back. Sounds like she’s having a rough one.”
“Your parents? Things between them still not going well?”
“Not so much. At least they spend less time shouting at each other and more time doing that frosty silence thing that’s so much fun to live with. They can go for days without saying a word to each other, using Katie and me as their messengers. They’re like kids. Only most kids have more sense.”
“I’m sorry. It must be hard.”
“I just wish they’d have the balls to get it over with and get a divorce. It’s not like they love each other. They’re just together out of, I don’t know, fear? Habit? It sure isn’t for Katie and me as we’ve told them enough times we’d be happier if they split up.”
“You should move out. Then you wouldn’t have to put up with them.”
“I don’t think I can leave Katie alone to deal with all that. She’s still just a kid.”
“A kid who can kick your arse though,” Aubrey said, laughing.
Aubrey had come round to see my house and Katie had insisted on giving us a demonstration of what she’d learned at kickboxing that week. With me as the test subject. I’d ended up flat on my back and Aubrey had laughed louder and longer than I’d ever seen her laugh. Naturally she’d become Katie’s instant hero.
“You know, you can always crash at mine, I mean, if you need,” Aubrey said, looking down at her hands.
That was the first time Aubrey had mentioned me staying over since we’d started going out. And it was so loaded with possibilities that I felt my mouth go dry.
Before I could think of anything to say that wouldn’t utterly kill the moment, my phone buzzed again.
OMG. IT’S THE XMAS PARTY THING. AGAIN. KILL ME.
“You really should go.”
“Katie’s a big girl. She’ll be fine,” I said, leaning in for a kiss. “About this crashing at yours…”
Aubrey laughed and pushed me away. “Get going. Oh and Scott,” she said, as I reluctantly started to get up. “No girl would be embarrassed to be seen with you. Get it?” She pulled me in for a last, long kiss and my stomach danced faster than the people downstairs.
The first thing I heard as I let myself into my house was Katie laughing. I stopped in the hallway, without saying a word, just to listen to it. High-pitched and breathless, with a slight piggy snort, which I used to make fun of. It had been so long since I’d heard it. The rest of the house was empty and dark. So unless Katie was chatting with Mum and Dad, which was unlikely, she had a friend over.
Then I heard a second familiar laugh.
“What the…” I said, running up the stairs.
I opened the door to Katie’s bedroom but it was empty. The laughter started up again. It was coming from my room.
I threw open the door to find Katie sat cross-legged on the floor, a game controller in her lap, and Hugo, my old best friend from school, sitting on my bed.
“Scotty! My man,” he shouted as I stood in the doorway trying to work out what was going on. I gave up trying.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Well, I came over here as I thought it would be harder to avoid me in person like you’ve been avoiding all my calls…” He looked at me over the top of his glasses, fixing me with a disapproving glance. “Only you weren’t in. Surprise, surprise. I was about to walk all the way home on my own, in the dark, when Katie suggested I come in and wait, as you’d just told her you were on your way.”
Katie held up her mobile phone, displaying my last text to her as proof.
“And we got to talking about her kickboxing, and while I agreed that she could easily beat me up for real…” Katie nodded at this statement, “I told her that no one could beat me on Fists of Rage III, the classic video game. Only it turns out I was wrong. What’s the score now, Katie?”
“Two one, to me.”
“Hmm, right then. Well, I went easy on you on that last round,” Hugo said. “This time, prepare to reap the whirlwind.”
Katie started up the game again and in seconds the two of them were bashing away on the controllers. I sat down next to Hugo on my bed, slipping off my jacket and shoes. It had been a long day. A long couple of days.
“Where are Mum and Dad?”
“Dad
went to the pub. Mum’s in the shed. Take that!” Katie said, not taking her eyes off the screen.
I craned my neck to see out of my window, which looked onto the garden below. The small windows of the shed were glowing and I could see Mum moving about inside. She’d be taking her frustration out on some innocent lump of clay.
“No!” roared Hugo. “You cheated. Scott, you have your controllers set up weird.”
“Yeah, sure,” Katie said. “Blame the controller, Hugo.”
“OK, well, I was going easy on you playing as the Enforcer. But no one, no one can beat me when I play as Ra.” He exited the game and flicked through the characters, stopping on a girl with black and red hair, enormous eyes and a ludicrous sexy nun’s outfit. He hit “select” and she made a worrying grunting noise and punched the air.
“Get ready to be crushed,” Hugo said, grabbing a fistful of air.
Katie snorted her derision. “OK, Ra. But I need a drink. You want one?” I looked at her in confusion. She’d never offered to get me a drink before and I can’t remember the last time I’d seen her smiling this much.
“I’m fine,” I said, smiling back.
“I’d murder a cup of tea. White with two sugars, if that’s not too much trouble. And then… we fight.” Hugo said.
Katie skipped off laughing.
“She’s never made me a cup of tea, you know?”
“That’s because you, Scotty boy, don’t have my way with the ladies.”
“Knock it off! That’s my sister you’re talking about.”
Hugo shrugged, as if he was helpless to control his power.
I let it slide. “It’s good to see her laughing. Thanks.”
“Hey, it’s been fun. Looks like you could do with a few laughs yourself.”
I sighed, and leaned back against my bedroom wall, the poster of a Manga robot crumpling behind my head. “I know. It’s…”
“Work. I get it. You’re out there in the big world, now, you don’t have time for us silly school kids.”
“No, Hugo. It’s not like that at all.” He raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Honestly,” I said. “It’s just all so… real.”
He fiddled with the controller for a bit.
“Did I tell you that St Francis’ are letting in girls?”
“Since when?”
“Since it was announced this week. I’m hoping there will be some real hotties.”
“What happened to the girl from the party?”
“Don’t ask; that cow.”
“Didn’t end well then?”
“You didn’t hear?” He turned to me and I shook my head. “She took a picture of me and put it on Facebook and emailed it to all her friends.”
“Was it bad?”
“You seriously haven’t seen it? Well, you must be the only person in the world who hasn’t. The sodding thing went viral. I had to have a nice long chat with the headmaster. And with the school nurse.”
“Why the nurse?”
Hugo flushed. “Oh, no reason. I have to say, it’s nice to know someone hasn’t seen my… well, seen the picture.”
“I’ll have to rectify that,” I said, reaching for my laptop.
“Don’t you dare,” he said, slapping my hand away. “And don’t tell your sister. She might be the only girl left I’ll have any chance with. I can wait a few years.”
“Seriously, dude. Stop it!” Hugo was smiling and I knew he was only winding me up. “It’s nice of you to let her win,” I said, softening.
“Let her? Are you kidding me? She’s killing me… And here she is.”
Katie came in carrying a mug of tea and a glass of orange for herself. She placed the mug on the bedside table next to Hugo and took her place back on the floor.
“How about I only play with one hand?” she said. “Maybe that will even the odds.”
“Laugh it up, Tyler. Pick any character and I will destroy them. Get ready for the Wrath of Sister Ra!”
Katie picked up the controller and they were off again.
I lay back on the bed and let their banter wash over me.
I am falling. I can feel the wind whipping against my face so hard it feels as if it’s trying to tear my skin off. I try to scream, to shout out for help, but the wind whips my words away. I can see the ground coming for me; racing towards me as quickly as I am falling towards it.
I clutch at passing ropes and branches that appear from nowhere, desperately trying to grab hold of something that will save me. But as soon as I touch anything it turns to dust in my hand.
Suddenly, I am yanked upwards. I am flooded with relief. I don’t care about the aching pain in my wrist, only that I am no longer falling. I look to my wrist to see a black, burned hand holding mine. I follow the hand up the arm to see the face of my saviour. Only I know that whatever I am about to see will be a hundred times worse than smashing my brains on the concrete below.
The man holding me doesn’t have a face. Not anymore. But I still know who he is. Or who he was.
Abbott opens a lipless mouth and speaks. “What have you done?” he says.
I scream and tear my hand out of his grip, surrendering to gravity. Death will be a relief. I feel every bone in my body shatter as I hit the ground below. And I…
I woke. Not sitting bolt upright, screaming and sweating like you see in the movies. Just one minute I was dreaming and the next I was awake. Disorientated for a moment, I tried to calm my breathing and work out where I was. I was at home. In my bedroom. And I was alone.
I checked my wrist, as I could still feel a burning pain. But there were no marks. It was only a dream.
I probed my memories, like I did every time I woke up – sensing for changes in the reality I found myself in. Sometimes, they’d just be tiny things, subtle Shifts made while I slept that altered my world. Other times, the changes could be terrifying. But tonight, it seemed everything was as it had been. I rolled over and tried to fall back asleep again. Although I already knew it wasn’t likely.
CHAPTER SIX
It was Monday morning and my third attempt at getting the eye scanner on the lifts to work. It was bleeping “Individual not recognised” at me over and over. The problem with these things was if you were at all bleary-eyed in the morning they just wouldn’t register you. The NSOs patrolling the entrance kept glancing my way. Any minute now, they’d have me up against the wall for a pat down.
“Still can’t get them to behave, hey?” said a soft lilting voice from behind me.
I turned to see CP Finn smiling up at me.
“Stupid things,” I said, punching the wall next to the scanner. “I don’t know what we even need them for.”
“This is the question. Are they here to keep others out?” CP said stepping next to me. “Or to keep us in?”
“Either way, they don’t work,” I said.
“Max says the system was ripped out of the palace of some Middle-Eastern dictator.” She shrugged. “Anyway, shove over.”
I stepped aside to allow CP access to the control panel. She waited till the scanner slowly tracked down to her eye level, lifted her long fringe out of her eyes, and let the criss-crossing lines of blue light scan across her face.
The machine purred happily. “Cleopatra Finn. Access granted.”
CP growled at the screen and stepped in. “Now everyone knows my name,” she said.
“Everyone already knew your name, Cleopatra. Because I told them.”
I grinned at her and she punched me in the arm.
We stood in silence waiting for the doors to close.
“So, um, have you heard from Jake?” she said, looking down at her shoes.
“’Fraid not,” I said. “I did tell Rosalie to say ‘hi’ though.”
“Oh, yeah. No bother.”
“He’ll be in touch soon, I’m sure,” I said, as the lift struggled to the first floor.
“Yeah, sure. Anyway, lots going on round here, right. You excited?” she asked.
“What about?
”
CP turned and looked up at me, her small face wrinkled in disappointment. “The Prime Minister’s visit!”
“Oh, yeah.” How could I forget? It’s all Sir Richard had been talking about for two weeks. “For someone who only just learned about the existence of Shifters, the PM’s certainly very interested in what we’re doing.”
“Well, I guess when he found out that a bunch of superpowered kids were being secretly trained by the government he kinda had to do something about it.”
“I heard he gave Sir Richard a right old–’’
The ping of the lift door opening cut me off.
“Anyway,” I said, stepping out. “I’m just staying out of the way. Catch you later, CP.”
She waved as the doors slid closed.
I headed for my desk where Aubrey was already working, flicking through the night’s reports on unregistered Shifts. The analysts had already graded which ones warranted investigation and Aubrey would be deciding which ones to follow up.
“Anything good?”
“The usual. Couple of fights in Clapham. Some kid trying to retake her exams in Isleworth. We may have to go and check out one of them in Holborn.”
I heard a loud bang, and turned to see Sir Richard striding down the corridor towards us. Everyone on the floor instantly looked really busy.
“Tyler, Jones,” he boomed across the room. “My office. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” Aubrey said, throwing him a salute. Then waited till his back was turned before throwing him an entirely different kind of hand gesture.
“What do you think he wants with us now?” I asked, pulling myself out of my chair.
“Probably just wants us out of the way so we don’t upset the PM,” Aubrey said glumly.
Despite knowing we were following him, Sir Richard had still chosen to close his door. I knocked on the dark wood and waited for the barked reply.
“Come!”
Sir Richard had taken over his son’s office, clearing it of Morgan’s old files and minimal furniture and filling it with an antique desk and an oil painting of himself. The painting wasn’t a very good likeness. It showed him looking off into the distance, as if he was thinking deep, important thoughts, resting his chin on his hand. We knew that under that hand was a chin of gargantuan proportions, but the artist had wisely decided flattery was the best way to avoid incurring Sir Richard’s rage.
