Free Shift by Kim Curran

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