Shift

by Kim Curran

  “Hurry up!” Aubrey shouted from the other side of the door. “I’ve left some clothes in the hallway. They were here when I moved in, but I think they’ll fit.”

  I quickly scrubbed myself with a bar of soap I found, switched off the taps, then pulled a white towel off a rail and wrapped it around my waist, before carefully opening the door an inch. I pressed an eye to the gap and peered out. I wasn’t happy with the idea of Aubrey seeing me half naked. Although, a new feeling flickered across my mind. Pride. Aubrey seeing this new, ripped body, wouldn’t be so awful. The idea passed quickly and I opened the door and gathered up the pile of clothes.

  When I emerged, wearing a slightly too-tight T-shirt and cut off tracksuit bottoms, I was still steaming from the shower.

  I found Aubrey in the living room. She pointed to a mug of coffee on a side table: the same mug she’d given me last night. As I wrapped my hands around it, I wanted to cry.

  “So…” Aubrey said. “Tell me what happened.”

  I tried as best as I could to explain. Even as the words came out I knew how insane I sounded. I only had fragments of memories and they were being pushed out of my head by images of a new life I didn’t recognise. The two memories were fighting to take hold of me and there was only one I was willing to accept. The one where I hadn’t killed my little sister.

  “What was the last thing you remember before waking up on the common?” Aubrey asked.

  “I was thinking about the choices I made in my life. The ones I’d regretted. And I was thinking about…” I stopped. The thoughts were just out of reach, like when you’re trying to remember someone’s name and it won’t come to you. You know it, but it’s hiding from you in a dark part of your brain. “I was thinking about something I wanted to do.” It came to me. “Kick boxing!” I shouted. “I was thinking about how I regretted giving up kick boxing.”

  “So that’s when you made the Shift. You Shifted to a reality where you hadn’t given up kick boxing. And everything else rippled out from there.”

  “So I know kick boxing?”

  “I don’t know. Do you?”

  I closed my eyes and thought about it. Yes, I did. In fact, I knew a lot about it. Memories, at least that’s what I thought they were, unlocked themselves. Me and Katie going to classes. Me getting my brown belt before her. I opened my eyes and tried to follow the threads. In one reality I’d quit. But in this new reality, I’d woken up in a world where I hadn’t. And that had somehow got Katie killed.

  I remembered now. I’d been taking Katie to class one night. Dad was away on a work conference and Mum was at one of her book club things. Mum had told Katie and I to stay at home, but I had a competition coming up and really wanted to go. And Katie refused to stay at home alone. So we hopped on my moped and rode off into the rain.

  “I have to undo it,” I said, my nails digging into my palms.

  “You can’t,” Aubrey said gently. “You can’t undo a Shift.”

  “But my sister. It can’t be…” I couldn’t speak any further.

  I buried my head in my hands. I didn’t know what was happening to me and with every second I was losing more and more of the old life. The life with Katie. I couldn’t even remember how I’d met Aubrey. All I knew was that she was my anchor in the storm I’d found myself.

  I felt her rest her arm on my shoulder. “We can try,” she said softly. “Find another way. Where were you, when you made the Shift?”

  I looked at her, my eyes clouded by tears. “I was here,” I said, pointing at the sofa we were sitting on.

  “Here?” Aubrey said. “Here?” She jumped off the sofa.

  I nodded, even more confused.

  “Then you have to get out. They’ll be here any minute.”

  “But you said you’d help me,” I said, sounding annoyingly pathetic.

  “I will. But I can’t help you if you’re locked up.” She dragged me to my feet and pushed me towards the door.

  “Maybe I should be locked up. At least I couldn’t hurt anyone again.”

  “Don’t be an idiot.”

  We’d made it as far as the hallway. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

  She paused in her shoving and considered me for a second. “Just hide out. I’ll find you.”

  But it was too late. Someone knocked at the door.

  Chapter Nine

  Isaw outlines of bodies through the foggy glass of the front door. Aubrey and I looked at each other. “Is there another way out?” I whispered.

  She shook her head.

  “Ms Jones,” a cold male voice shouted from the other side of the door. “This is ARES. Please open up.”

  Aubrey looked from me to the door. Her shoulders sagged, like a little girl waiting for her punishment. I didn’t recognise her. Right then, I was really afraid of the men on the other side of that door. If they could do this to Aubrey Jones, who was the most confident girl I’d ever met, then what hope did I have?

  “It’s OK,” I said, trying to reassure myself as much as her. They banged on the door again and she flinched. I hated seeing her like this. “I’m coming,” I shouted.

  I squeezed Aubrey’s shoulder, pushed past her, and opened the door. I had a glimpse of a man in a grey uniform and behind him a line of men in black combat gear. Then a bag was thrown over my head, I was pulled through the door, and pushed to the floor.

  They were shouting at me to get down, which seemed kind of redundant seeing as my face was already pressed into the cracked tiles. How much more down could I get? My hands were yanked behind my back and bound together with something metal. It cut into my wrists and vibrated gently; my skin prickled with what felt like an electric current.

  “Don’t move. Don’t Shift,” the men were shouting. I just lay there, wishing they’d stop shouting. It was hurting my head.

  “Who is this man?” I heard the cold voice ask.

  “I don’t know,” Aubrey responded. “He forced his way into my apartment. I assumed he was a rogue and I was about to call you.” She sounded convincing enough. She even had a hint of disgust in her voice when referring to me as a rogue. I prayed they believed her. I’d pulled all this trouble down on her head and the best I could hope for is that they would take me away and leave Aubrey alone.

  “We’ll take care of it from here, Ms Jones. One of the Regulators will be back later to take a statement.”

  “Yeah, sure, whatever I can do to help.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. But the man didn’t seem to register it.

  His voice softened slightly. “I’m just glad you’re OK.”

  “You really didn’t need to come out, you know? I could have handled this myself, Dick.” I heard the man cough. “Sorry. Richard,” Aubrey said. The man coughed again. “Commandant Morgan,” Aubrey finished and for some reason I imagined her pulling off a mocking salute.

  Whoever this guy was, I already hated him. Hated that Aubrey was having to kowtow to him. Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she was flirting with him. Just what I needed along with all the mad mix of emotions that were flooding through me right now: jealousy.

  “We’ll be in touch soon,” the voice I now knew as Morgan said.

  I heard the door close and I was alone with the men from ARES. They frogmarched me down the stairs and out onto the street.

  In the light, I could make out hazy images through the weave of the cloth: men and women gathering outside their houses to watch me being dragged away, small children laughing and pointing and, across the street, the silhouette of a huge man resting on a small wall. Even through the hood I could sense his dark eyes trained on me. He raised a podgy hand and waved. It sent a shiver down my spine.

  I heard the clunk of metal doors being opened beside me and I was thrown roughly forward, banging my head on something hard.

  I didn’t even try to get to my feet. I just curled up into a ball on the cold metal floor. I heard footsteps of men getting in around me and the hum of an engine start up. As the vehicle pulled away I slid forwar
d on the floor.

  I tried to gather my thoughts. I was in a van, most likely, being taken to ARES HQ. As for what was going to happen to me once I got there, I didn’t know. I had ideas all right. Horrible, nausea-inducing ideas, fuelled from watching too many spy movies. I pulled my knees up closer to my chest and hoped the men in the van couldn’t hear my sobs.

  After what felt like hours, but was probably only about thirty minutes, the van rumbled to a halt. The door clunked open and I was dragged forward and hefted to my feet. The heavy hand on my shoulder guided me up some steps and across a slippery, I guessed, marble floor and into a lift. He let go of me for a moment and I heard the beep of a button being pressed. After a moment, the drifting in my stomach told me we were moving up. A second beep and he pushed me forward. I had the sense I was walking down a narrow corridor, as I kept banging into the walls. The man leading me wasn’t doing a great job. Or maybe it was his exact intention that I was roughed up a bit before they started on me. Something electronic beeped and I heard a door opening. A final push forward and the bag was whipped off my head.

  I scrunched up my eyes against the sudden light and directed my face away from the glaring overhead bulbs. The room came into focus. It was about ten feet by ten feet, white walls on three sides and a mirror on the fourth wall. A table stood in the middle, with a metal chair on either side. Unless I did have an overactive imagination, like Mum always said, it was an interrogation room.

  “Take a seat,” said the cold voice from behind me.

  I turned around to face the man I assumed was Morgan and was a little taken aback. He wasn’t much older than I was. Twenty maybe. With neat, brown hair and a ratty, pointed face. He wore a grey, uniform jacket, with five golden stripes on the arm and a metal badge that read ARES pinned to the collar.

  “Take a seat,” he repeated, gesturing to one of the chairs.

  I kicked it away from the table and sat down, which wasn’t easy with my hands still tied behind my back.

  Morgan’s chair screeched across the floor as he dragged it opposite me. He spun it around so the back was facing the table and sat astride it. Only he couldn’t get his leg through the gap between the armrest and back. After a few seconds of struggling to pull his leg free, he turned it the right way and sat down.

  He smoothed back his slick hair, which had been ruffled in his fight with the chair, and steepled his fingers under his chin

  “So, shall we start with you telling me your name?” His voice was icy, as if he was preparing himself to break some hardened criminal. Well, I was about to spoil his fun. I was going to spill my guts.

  I started with my name and then told him everything. Everything I could remember, that is. I told him about Hugo and the Pylon, about wanting to do kick boxing. Finally I told him about the moped and how I’d got my sister killed. I kept Aubrey out of it as much as possible and invented some guy who’d given me Aubrey’s address telling me she might be able to help. When I was finished, there were tears flowing down my face, and Morgan seemed disappointed.

  “So you didn’t know you were a Shifter?”

  “Not until last night, I didn’t have a clue. I still don’t know what’s going on. It’s as if I’ve got memories in my head that don’t fit any more. And the more I try to make sense of them, the less I understand.”

  “Oh, Scott. Silly, silly Scott,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You are having what we call a reality attack. It’s a sort of psychosis when you find yourself in a new and disturbing reality, because you didn’t carefully plot out the consequences of your Shift.” He shook his head and sighed dramatically. “It’s a rookie mistake, really.”

  I ignored the fact he was talking to me like a six yearold. “You’ve got to help me. I don’t know how to control any of this.”

  “It’s unusual that your Shifting capabilities are only emerging now,” he said, squinting at me so hard I could hardly see his eyes. ‘Normally they present themselves at a much younger age. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a Shifter coming to light at such a late age. Most Shifters begin their training at eight, ten at the latest. I’m not sure there is anything we can do for you. Apart from processing.”

  Processing. He meant torture, I was sure of it.

  “Why don’t you let me see about that, Commandant?”

  Another man had entered the room, so quietly I hadn’t even heard the door open. I turned my head to face him. He wore a grey uniform like Morgan’s, but it appeared faded with age. The jacket was slightly too tight for him and there were five darker lines on his arm, the shadows of where golden stripes might once have been. He had slightly greying hair, large black eyes, and his dark skin was lined with deep wrinkles.

  Morgan shot to his feet and started to protest about how a Shifter had to lead any interrogation. The man ignored him, his kind eyes fixed on me.

  “My name is Mr Abbott, I head up the Regulators.” His voice was deep and soft. “It’s good to meet you, Mr Tyler.”

  “I’d shake your hand, but, you know…” I shrugged, indicating my bound hands.

  “Hmm, yes. I think we can do without the cuffs, don’t you?”

  Morgan hesitated. “But he might Shift.” He sounded like a kid being told it was past his bedtime.

  Abbott’s expression didn’t change. “Oh, I don’t think Mr Tyler is going to give us any trouble.”

  Morgan shuffled behind me. My cuffs snapped open and my hands were free. I rubbed at my wrists, thinking I would never take my hands for granted again.

  “Why don’t you let me take over? I’m sure you have much more important things to be doing,” Abbott said taking Morgan’s seat in front of me. “Sir,” he added, smiling.

  Morgan scowled. “Yes, you are right. I do have some pressing matters that require my attention. I expect a full report at the end of the day, Mr Abbott.” He put unnecessary stress on the word “Mr” and then slammed the door behind him.

  “Commandant Morgan is very thorough,” Abbott said, “but slightly overeager. He sees master criminals everywhere.”

  “I’m just a normal kid,” I said.

  “But you are anything but normal, Mr Tyler. You are, as I am sure you are coming to realise, very special.”

  “But I don’t want to be special. I just want everything to go back to how it was. I just want my sister…” My voice trailed off.

  “Ah, yes… your sister.” He laid a brown folder on the table and opened it. “You said your last Shift led to her death?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t mean to.”

  “Of course you didn’t. Let us see what we can do to put that right.”

  A wave of hope and gratitude passed through me. “Can you? Can you help?”

  “That’s what we do here, Scott.” I noticed the switch to my first name. “We help people and we will help you. After all, we have to take some responsibility. We should have spotted you earlier.” He turned over pages in the file. I caught glimpses of what I thought were my school reports, my birth certificate, even what looked like my library card. “We have systems in place to spot the signs and the signs were definitely there with you. Getting into fights. An inability to forge close friendships.” He didn’t sound as if he was judging me. Just saying it as it was.

  He closed the file and looked up. “The truth is, Scott, that Commandant Morgan was wrong. There are cases when a Shifter’s ability only emerges at a later stage. And when it does happen, that Shifter invariably goes on to be very powerful.”

  “I really don’t think that’s going to be the case with me,” I said with a small laugh. “I’m pretty useless at almost everything.”

  “We’ll see.” He gazed at me, a half smile playing about his dark lips. “The thing that interests us about you, Scott is your ability to hold on to your past reality. It’s rather unusual. Most Shifters can hold onto the old reality for a few minutes, half an hour if it’s a particularly traumatic event. But it’s been,” he checked his watch, “nearly two hours since you
made your Shift. It’s impressive.”

  “Friends always told me I was no good at letting go of stuff.”

  “Well, that could work to your advantage, Scott. It’s likely you’ll need specialist training. But first, we have the problem of your sister to clear up. I’d like to ask you something, Scott.”

  “What? Anything.”

  “If I help you, help you put things back in order as much as is possible, will you come back to ARES, under your own volition, and join the Programme?”

  “I don’t understand. I’m here already.”

  “Ah, but if I help you make this Shift then you might not be here. I don’t know what the consequences will be. If your sister doesn’t die, you will have no need to go running to Ms Jones’s house for help, and we may never track you down. As I am sure you’ve come to realise, this is the problem with Shifting. You never know where the ripples will take you. Even here, where we have the finest minds and some of the most advanced technology, most of which I don’t even begin to understand, we struggle to map it out.” He paused. “You need us, Scott. And we want to help you.”

  I didn’t even have to think. If it would get my sister back, I’d sign over my life. “Yes, I’ll join.”

  “Good. Now, you said your sister died in a crash when you were both on your moped. Yet, you also said in your alternate reality you didn’t have one.”

  “Not that I can remember, no.”

  “Well, that could be the key. You made a decision somewhere to get this moped. If you can find that point, you can Shift it. But there had to be a real choice.”