Control (Shift) (9 page)

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Authors: Kim Curran

BOOK: Control (Shift)
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“And I feel quite the same about these kids. Isn’t that right?” Miller reached out a hand and patted my shoulder. “Anyway, shall we?” He pointed towards the doors to the Pyramid. “After you.”
Tsing nodded and wandered towards the glass doors, his hands clasped behind his back, walking slowly and taking everything in. His Little Guards followed him, their heads twitching as they looked left and right, watching for any danger.
“You two,” the PM hissed, pointing at Aubrey and me. “Walk in front of me and act like you’re ready to take a bullet for me, OK? Good.”
He shoved me in front of him and we followed the President into the belly of the Pyramid.
The building was even more impressive on the inside. Three walls had been given over to apartments and offices. But the third wall was uninterrupted golden glass through which the grey city outside looked as if it was bathed in sunlight.
“The Pyramid isn’t open to the public yet,” Miller said. “We are a little behind schedule; you know how these things are. So you are one of the first people to see it. What do you think?”
“Impressive,” said Tsing.
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Miller replied. “I was involved in the initial planning, back when I was Minister for Culture. You should have seen some of the designs they put forward. One of them would have been the tallest building in Europe, you know. We’d have been able to see it halfway across London. But I was told it would have been a beacon for suicidal nutters and terrorists in planes. So I decided on this one. Yes, this building sends out all the right signals: that you don’t have to be big to be impressive.”
Tsing turned slightly and looked at the Prime Minister. “And of course, on your small island, space is such an issue.” He turned back and continued walking.
I could hear Miller muttering something under his breath.
“The lifts are to your left. The observation deck is quite something,” he said finally.
The lifts held ten people at a time, so there was a bit of fussing as we worked out who would go in which lift. In the end, Tsing went with his Little Guards in one and we went in the other.
“That jumped up little…” Miller said as the lifts whooshed upwards to the sixty-fifth floor. “If he thinks he can stomp over everyone and we’ll just stand by… Small island. I’ll give him small island!”
Thankfully, the lift only took a matter of seconds and we stepped out onto the observation deck almost on the very top of the Pyramid. It was about fifty foot square and empty apart from masses of potted plants.
“Wow!” gasped CP, taking the word right out of my mouth.
Through the golden glass you could see across the whole of London. The Thames looked like a glittering snake, cutting its way through the city.
“You can see HQ!” Jake said, running up to the window and pointing out to St Paul’s Cathedral and beyond.
“Stay away from the windows,” Miller snapped with more force than I thought was really necessary. He coughed and straightened his tie as Jake crept back, step by step, away from the edge. “Um, we had trouble with one of the panes falling out,” Miller mumbled.
We all froze, suddenly aware that we were standing in a glass prism hundreds of yards high.
“I’m sure it will be OK now, just… don’t touch anything.”
The lift doors
ping
ed and we all turned to see Tsing and his guard. He was looking at his watch.
“There is an unnecessary delay of ten seconds between these elevators arriving on their designated floors and the doors opening. I would get your engineers to see to it,” he said, stepping out onto the deck.
Miller’s lips pursed so tightly, I thought they might disappear altogether.
I watched Tsing’s face for any expression that might convey his wonder at the building as he looked about. But there was nothing. He simply walked around the room, hands still held behind his back, taking it all in. His guards were a little less stoic. I saw their eyes widen in involuntary awe as they looked out of the windows.
Miller glared at the President while Tsing gazed out across the city. Sir Richard looked from one leader to the other and eventually broke the silence.
“Mr President, tell us more about your Little Guards. How many children do you have in service?”
President Tsing stood with his back to Sir Richard, looking out of the windows. “Hmm, let me think? I have forty
Xíngdòngzhe
in my personal guard. And about twenty thousand currently being trained.”
“Twenty thousand!” I could see Sir Richard’s huge jaw tighten. “That’s… impressive.”
Tsing half turned and looked over his shoulder. “We are a very large country, Sir Richard. And we have sophisticated techniques for searching out potential… Shifters, as you call them.” The word sounded awkward on his tongue. “And you? How many Shifters are there in Great Britain?”
“Oh, in the thousands. I don’t have the exact numbers to hand, but at least a few thousand,” Miller butted in. “Isn’t that right, Sir Richard?”
“Um. Somewhere approximating that number, yes,” Sir Richard said, looking decidedly pale.
“And what skills do they have?”
“Skills, well… How about they give you a demonstration?” The Prime Minister clasped his hands on mine and Aubrey’s shoulders, squeezing hard.
“What? Here?” Aubrey said, looking around at the glass walls and floor.
“Why not?” Miller shook us slightly.
“But what do you want us to do?” I said, as CP, Jake and the other kids looked at each other worriedly.
“I don’t know. What has millions of pounds of taxpayers’ money trained you to do?” he said, looking angry, the overly large smile suddenly gone.
Jake raised a hand. The Prime Minister nodded at him to speak. “Um, we learn history and science and…”
“We learn how to fight,” CP said.
“Is that so?” Miller looked at Sir Richard.
“Oh, yes. They have years of fighting training,” Sir Richard said.
“Good. Well, how about one of you fight one of them?” He pointed at the Little Guards. “Would that be appropriate, Mr President?”
“Yes, quite appropriate.” Tsing said something in rapid fire Chinese and one of the boys bowed and stepped forward. He couldn’t have been older than twelve.
“You,” Miller said pointing at me. “Why don’t you show us all what the best of ARES are capable of?”
“You want me to fight him?” I said.
“Yes!” He smiled and then pulled me to one side. “And unless you’d rather make an absolute ass out of me in front of the President of China,” he hissed from between clenched teeth, “I suggest you win.”
I had to admit the thought of losing just to annoy him was tempting.
The spectators moved back to give us some space and the Little Guard stepped into the centre of the room and waited, his hands pressed firmly by his sides.
I unbuttoned my jacket and handed it to Aubrey.
“No Fixing, now,” she said.
“Huh? Why not?”
“It’s cheating.”
“Just because you can’t do it doesn’t make it cheating,” I mumbled to myself and approached the boy.
He looked even younger close up; his small mouth making a thin line straight across his face and his large eyes quivering slightly.
“It’s OK,” I said, quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I reached out my hand to shake his, the gentlemanly way to do things. Only he wasn’t playing by our rules. He grabbed my hand and pulled me forward into his suddenly outstretched foot. I barely missed being kicked in the stomach.
I yanked my hand free of his and spun out of the way as he came at me with a series of spinning roundhouse kicks, one after the other. I managed to block the last one and countered with an elbow punch. It was soaring straight for his face when he Shifted and was back-flipping out of reach.
“OK, I can play that game.”
I steadied myself, finding my balance and raising my fists in guard as I’d been taught. Acrobatics over, the boy slid his leg out low and stretched out his arms like a bird. This kid had some pretty sick moves.
I waited for him to come at me again. And he did. Faster this time. Fists flying, Shifting left, right, up, down. His actions seemed to flow into each other and I was just a fraction behind him, barely able to keep up.
I got in a lucky punch and knocked him to the floor, but before I’d had a chance to follow up, he’d flipped back onto his feet again and was coming at me. He was smaller and weaker than me, but he was quicker too. And it seemed we were evenly matched when it came to Shifting. I could Fix him and just get this over and done with, but I didn’t think Aubrey would be too impressed. So, I had to find another way to win.
I changed styles, slipping out of kickboxing to try some Capoeira moves I’d been practising lately. This was more like dancing: fluid movements that were about avoiding your opponent’s blows rather than blocking them. It was frustrating the boy as well as tiring him out. As I spun and dodged his punches and kicks, he continued to come head on, moving high then low, throwing everything he had at me. His breath was getting heavier and his blows clumsier. He tried a double fist punch and I flicked out of the way with a one-handed cartwheel. As soon as my feet touched the floor, I sprang back and caught his neck between my two legs.
The key with fighting another Shifter was to back your opposition into a corner so they would accept defeat rather than injury. Sometimes, done right, you wouldn’t ever actually need to lay a finger on each other.
The boy struggled to be free of my hold. He should, if he had any sense, Shift to avoid me breaking his neck, but it would mean losing the fight. As I tightened my legs I suddenly realised he wasn’t going to Shift. He’d rather die than back down.
I released him and jumped away. Was this kid really going to force me to hurt him?
I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his President and his friends, but I'd rather he were embarrassed than injured or dead even. He raced at me again and instead of blocking his blows, I simply scooped him up in my arms in a great big bear hug. His arms pinned to his sides and his legs kicking uselessly, there was nothing he could do to get out of it. And, so what if Aubrey thought it was cheating, I Fixed him, stopping him from Shifting. I wanted this fight over with.
He finally went loose in my arms and I set him down. He staggered back, his chest heaving from the exertion of the fight and the frustration of being beaten. Then bowed.
I bowed too, glad it was all over. The whole thing had shaken me. An image flashed in front of my eyes, an echo from the simulator.
I’ve wrapped my hands around Katie’s neck and I’m squeezing, tighter, tighter.
 
“Nice job,” Aubrey said, jolting me out of the memory. “Shame about the Fix at the end,” she whispered into my ear as she handed me my jacket.
“It was either that or really hurt him,” I said.
“Well done, Tyler. Very well done,” Sir Richard said, slapping me on the back. He looked very, very relieved.
“Is that it?” The Prime Minister said, looking at his watch. “Well, I had been expecting a slightly longer display, but yes, well done everyone. Most, um… impressive.” He grasped my hand and leant forward a bit so only Aubrey and I could hear. “Well done on beating the little yellow bastard.”
Aubrey and I gasped at the same time. I pulled my hand out of his and stepped away not knowing what to say. What do you say to something like that? He was beaming as if nothing was wrong while smoothing down his hair.
“No hard feelings, hey, Mr President? Your boy put up quite the fight himself.”
I saw the boy return to his place by the President’s side, bent over, head down. And I noticed rather than take his previous position in front of Tsing, he’d dropped in at the back. I felt a pang of guilt for shaming him in front of his leader.
“Yes, Ken-ze Tsing did a fine job,” the President said.
“Ken-ze Tsing?” Sir Richard said. “Your son?”
The President nodded and I saw Ken-ze Tsing’s cheeks darken. I hadn’t just shamed him in front of his leader. I’d shamed him in front of his father. And for what? To make Miller happy? Screw that.
I closed my eyes, playing out the fight in my mind. There had been a moment when Ken-ze had me, just before I’d changed styles. I focused on that.
When I opened my eyes again, Ken-ze was standing by his father’s side, beaming proudly. The winner of the fight.
I had a pang of regret, but when I looked at the outraged expression contorting Miller’s face it was more than worth it.
“Well, would you look at the time,” Miller said, not even bothering to look at his watch. “I’m sure we all have places to be. Shall we?”
Miller strode back to the lift and got in the first one that arrived with Sir Richard. He punched the close button before anyone else could get in. Just as the doors closed, I saw him turn to Sir Richard and start shouting.
I hoped my little Shifting trick wasn’t going to cost ARES too badly.
President Tsing took the next lift with his Little Guards. As the doors were an inch apart, Ken-ze stopped them with his hand. He said a few words to his father, who nodded, then stepped out of the lift.
Ken-ze walked up to me and bowed. “Thank you,” he said, the words slow and practised.
“That’s OK,” I said. “It was a close fight anyway. You’re really good.”
“I train. A lot!” He smiled. “It is my greatest wish to protect father. My duty. Today, you have made him proud. I am in your…” He bit down on his lip, trying to find the word. “In your debt.”
“No debt, Ken-ze. Just take care of yourself. And of your father,” I said.
He bowed again, and went back to the lift to join his father and the rest of the Little Guards.
“That was really sweet of you,” Aubrey said, squeezing my hand.
“Well, you know me. I’m a softie.”
“You’re a numptie, more like,” Jake said. “I can’t believe you threw the fight.”

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