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Shifter: Inversion
Shifter: Inversion
Shifter: Inversion
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Shifter: Inversion

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Ex-cop William Ryan is dismayed by his corrupt and stagnant society when Villelmus, his doppelgänger from an advanced civilisation from another universe, drops in and makes an offer he cannot refuse: join him in another realm which has evolved to the state William wishes for his own

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 11, 2022
ISBN9780648869214
Shifter: Inversion

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    Shifter - Patrick Martin

    Copyright © Patrick Martin 2022

    The moral right of the author to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

    A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia.

    ISBN: 978-0-6488692-0-7 (paperback)

    ISBN: 978-0-6488692-2-1 (hardcover)

    ISBN: 978-0-6488692-1-4 (EBook)

    Cover design by Patrick Martin

    Typeset by Patrick Martin

    The sun’s rays crept over William’s face, signalling his eyes to open. He cast the sheets aside and slid out of bed, then stretched as he looked through the window at the rain-drenched grounds.

    He exited the bedroom and walked down the staircase. He heard faint voices. The sound intensified near the dining room; he edged the door open and the sound ceased. He entered the room and checked behind the furniture, then was stunned by a hair-raising shout.

    We need you! Come help us!

    The room instantly changed. One wall was missing and the other three damaged, the roof had gaping holes, and lying about the room were wounded men in World War One-era uniforms.

    What are you waiting for?! Come here, man!

    Panicked, he looked for the source of the voice and spotted a nurse in a blood-stained uniform. He stepped around the soldiers and halted at a young man whose left forearm was missing, his forehead bandaged, and his face smeared with dried mud.

    The nurse was kneeling next to the solider and was redressing his amputated limb. Fetch me another bandage from the table, quickly! she said, and pointed at a table stacked with medical supplies.

    I must still be asleep, he murmured, then turned in the direction of her pointed finger.

    A solider whose forehead and right eye were bandaged reached up with his quavering right hand and intercepted William. He squeezed William’s hand and tried to pull him down, but he was too weak and began to weep.

    William squatted and allowed the soldier to maintain his hold. The terror expressed in the man’s face had William transfixed, then the nurse again called to William and the solider firmed his grip.

    What do I do? He won’t let me go! William shouted.

    Please, hurry! This man needs help right now! He is one, but there are many! You must remember that!

    The solider raised his head enough to sight the nurse, then he released his grip, and among the tears he managed a brief smile.

    William arrived at the table, then a shell exploded outside the building, raining dirt through the holes in the roof. He shielded his eyes for a few moments, and when he looked up again the table had vanished and the room was in its previous condition.

    He inhaled deeply and shut his eyes for a few seconds. What the hell was that all about? Was I asleep on my feet?

    He pulled back a dining chair and sat for a couple of minutes, then vigorously rubbed his face and resumed his way to the kitchen. He switched on the kettle and opened the back door to get some fresh air, then stepped outside onto the sandstone landing and took a deep breath. A small flock of birds chirped as they flew overhead and then landed in a tree that had been split in two by a lightning strike from the previous night’s storm. As he neared the tree he saw movement beyond the tree line, and then the estate suddenly transformed into a muddied landscape pockmarked with craters, and the birdsong was replaced with the rumble of heavy vehicles. He turned to head back to the house, but it was a pile of splintered wood and rubble. The rumble increased, and he saw through gaps in the tree line large yellowish shapes headed his way.

    A loud voice seized his attention: Get down, you fool!

    A man dressed in green and armed with a machine gun lunged at him and pulled him into a crater. Do you wanna get your head blown off?!

    The soldier’s stubbled face was as dirty as his uniform. Three hand grenades hung from his jacket, and a brown belt with three long leather pouches wrapped his waist.

    The solider peered over the top of the hole and scouted the horizon. God no! he said, then slid back into the hole. We’re in deep shit now, buddy. Just sit tight and pray.

    What, what’s going on?

    Metallic squeaks and the roar of engines grew louder, then both men looked up and saw two massive dark-yellow tracked vehicles pass either side of the hole. William’s curiosity overcame his sense of self-preservation, and he clamoured up the side of the crater to witness three tanks advancing in a spearhead formation.

    The soldier clawed at William’s pyjama shirt and dragged him down. We told your people we need help, not goddamn bystanders!

    A shout from above startled them. Two soldiers dressed in dark-grey uniforms pointed machine guns at them, then the tense moment was interrupted by an explosion. The two soldiers jumped into the hole next to William, then a volley of exploding shells elevated the danger. The barrage intensified, and the four men curled themselves into foetal positions in anticipation of a direct hit.

    After two minutes the mortar line advanced, and the four men realised that they had weathered the onslaught. The three soldiers nervously laughed from relief, but William remained petrified. The soldiers soon recalled their circumstances and stopped laughing. The solider in green had let go of his machine gun, and it was now out of reach, but his enemy were still armed.

    The enemy soldier next to William took a packet of cigarettes from his coat pocket and gave one cigarette to his compatriot, and then offered one to William, who merely stared at him. The solider shook the packet and nodded, then William raised his shaking hand and hesitantly took a smoke. He reached past William to the solider in green who drew a cigarette from the pack, and then both men locked eyes on each other and smiled. The second enemy soldier slapped his comrade on the back, then both men crawled up the side of the crater to inspect the battleground. The solider in green lit his cigarette and then offered to light William’s smoke.

    Why won’t I wake up? William asked.

    I don’t know. It’s up to you what happens next.

    Who are you? Who are they?

    The guy with the smokes is a sergeant, and the other one’s a private. I’m just a corporal who should’ve stayed put behind the rock wall where it was safe, but you showed up and changed the course o’ my life and everyone else’s.

    A loud crack was followed by the sergeant falling into the hole. The right side of his head had been blasted away by a sniper round. The private dropped to his knees and shouted while he patted the intact side of his comrade’s face, then his voice trembled when he accepted his friend would never respond.

    The corporal unhooked his canteen and crawled to the sergeant’s side, then poured water into the lid and tipped his finger into the water. Dear Lord, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on him. He crossed the fallen soldier’s forehead, lips, and chest, then he turned to William. This can’t keep repeating. Do something about it.

    The private sobbed and bowed his head, then the whistle of an incoming mortar sent them to ground. William firmly shut his eyelids and the shell exploded close to the crater. He remained still for several seconds, then he opened his eyes and sat up, alone on the wet grass.

    ***

    William sat outside Angela’s waiting room and fidgeted while he tried to ignore the news story on the TV about the Middle East conflict.

    She called him in to her office. You settled in yet? she asked once he walked in the door.

    There are boxes everywhere, he replied, and sat in the chair next to her desk.

    You were hard to understand over the phone. Tell me what happened.

    He recounted the incidents at his house, and faltered when he tried to offer an explanation.

    She leaned forward and flicked his right ear. Have you been taking drugs?

    Stop friggin’ doing that! Since when have I ever taken drugs?

    Just because I’m your sister doesn’t mean I know what you get up to. I don’t live there.

    Well, I haven’t. He held his ear. I hate it when you do that.

    When it happened, did you feel any pain in your head? Headaches, dizziness, blurred vision?

    No, nothing.

    She inserted a blank form into the printer. I’m sending you to get a scan, and I want you to call me if you have another episode. She signed the referral and handed it to him. Have you had anything to eat or drink for the past four hours?

    No, why?

    They won’t take you now if you have. The centre is a few doors down. Get going and I’ll ring them.

    Thanks, he said, and headed for the door.

    Hey, I don’t do family rates!

    Very funny. As you can see my sides are splitting with laughter.

    Get going, or it’s a prostate check.

    At the centre, William laid on the bed and the radiologist finished preparations for the scan. She left the room, and a minute later the bed slid backward into the tunnel. He closed his eyes, then he heard a loud hum and he felt cold and heavy. He opened his eyes and was seated on a dimly lit plane. Directly opposite him and to his left and right were soldiers dressed in camouflage. A bulging sack was strapped to his abdomen and a heavy pack was tied to his back. He felt a helmet bound to his head and an automatic rifle rested against his right thigh.

    Not again! he said to himself. Why is this happening?

    "Now you decide to change ya mind? Too bad," the man directly opposite replied.

    The solider seated to William’s left patted him forcefully. Our hero. Those commies haven’t got a chance.

    Where the hell am I?

    The solider to his left winked at the man opposite. "Mate, this is called a plane. You’re about to jump out of it, and if you’re lucky you’ll hit the ground in one piece, ya clown."

    Some of the soldiers snickered, and William received an encouraging slap on the helmet from the man to his right.

    Right, you lot, get ready, a voice bellowed from the rear of the plane.

    The jumpmaster stood at the rear door, and the men rose and checked their equipment.

    The man next to William looked down at him. Oi, aren’t ya comin’?

    William stood hesitantly and mimicked the other’s actions to avoid further attention.

    They all turned to face the rear of the plane, and those opposite William moved across to join the line on his side.

    Hook up! the jumpmaster shouted.

    Except for William, they all attached their ripcords to the line above their heads.

    Stop muckin’ around! the man behind William yelled. Hook that on or you’ll end up on the ground faster than the rest of us!

    William fumbled for his metal clamp and attached it to the line.

    Thirty seconds! the jumpmaster shouted.

    I don’t know how to do this, William mumbled. My phone! He frantically searched his pockets for his mobile.

    What now?! the man behind William asked.

    I need my mobile!

    Your what?

    My phone. I need to ring her.

    If you’re tryin’ to pike out o’ jumpin’ you’ve left it too late. Get movin’, hero!

    The solider shoved William, who stumbled forward and bumped into the man ahead.

    The jumpmaster opened the door and a rush of cold air buffeted the men. Get ready! he shouted.

    William craned his neck to see what was happening at the exit, then he saw a light change from red to green.

    Go! The jumpmaster slapped the first man on the shoulder, and one by one the men leapt from the plane.

    The man behind William pushed him forward to keep up with the rest of group. This is what ya wanted, to save the world from itself, so hurry up, hero!

    The jumpmaster waved agitatedly at William, who was again shoved forward, and he grabbed the top of the hatchway, then looked down. It was night and the landscape was barely visible through the patchy cloud.

    Go, you idiot! the jumpmaster yelled.

    The man behind William barged forward. William took a deep breath and shut his eyes, and fell, petrified.

    He opened his eyes and bumped his head against the scanner as he tried to sit up, and the bed slid out to the open.

    All done, the radiologist said.

    Did you see that?! Did you see it?

    See what?

    The plane! The soldiers! We were jumping . . .

    Did you doze off in there?

    William realised the radiologist had no idea what he’d just been through. He put on his shoes and jacket then exited the room in a daze, past the receptionist who tried to get his attention, and stood outside in the afternoon sun. He inhaled deeply a couple of times, then he took out his phone.

    Hello, this is Doctor Ryan’s office.

    It’s her brother. Can I talk to her? It’s urgent.

    A bus stopped in front of him which had an advertisement on its side: June 12 is the start of mental health awareness week. Are you okay? accompanied by a picture of a man slumped over at a desk.

    You and me both, man, William said.

    Are you alright? Angela asked, over the phone.

    It happened again, just now at the imaging place in the tunnel of doom.

    Couldn’t you call me while it was happening?

    I was in the friggin’ machine, and besides I couldn’t find the phone in my uniform.

    What uniform? Come back here to me, now.

    He saw Angela dart out of the office, and she intercepted him several metres down the street.

    You look like you’ve seen a ghost, she said, and grasped his arm. She led him into her examination room where he laid on the bed and shaded his eyes with his forearm.

    ***

    William opened the front door, and Angela followed him into the lounge room. He dropped on to the tan leather couch. I’m knackered.

    You’ll feel better after a long sleep in your own bed, Angela said, and sat next to him.

    I still don’t buy it: hypnagogic hallucination. Sounds like a sixties psychedelic band.

    That was the closest diagnosis the clinic could come up with for now, even though you don’t have any risk factors. Give them time. They’ll be calling you to go back for more tests, so in the meantime don’t drive, and for God’s sake leave the guns alone.

    There’s still a lot here to unpack, so I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

    When you’re ready to unbox the rest, call me and I’ll give you a hand. I’ll go make us a cuppa.

    She returned with two mugs on a silver tray, which she placed on the coffee table. William took his mug and settled back into the couch.

    I still can’t believe you bought this massive house, she said.

    "You know the other one was too small, and I was sick of all the development happening in the street. It was like living at a friggin’ construction site."

    So, where are you going to put that stupid gun collection?

    Gee, I don’t know, maybe here on the table, loaded, with a please don’t touch sign. That’s much better than the safe.

    Mister hilarious. You were always into them even when you were a kid. I was hoping you’d let it go, especially after you left the force.

    Don’t worry, I’m not going to shoot myself.

    I want you to resume the sessions with the psychologist, especially after what’s happened. Maybe it’s related.

    Not this again, he sighed. I felt better when I worked through things on my own.

    You need someone trained and experienced to provide objectivity and guidance. Self-help isn’t enough, and it’s not like you’re getting over the loss of a goldfish. You went through hell.

    I felt like shit after each session. That’s not getting better, that’s getting worse.

    It’s not supposed to be a quick fix. It takes time.

    He stared down at his half-empty mug, lost in memories of his therapy sessions.

    You haven’t dated anyone for ages, she said.

    Oh, not this too. I just got out of hospital and you’re on my case already. Listen, except for whatever the hell’s wrong with me now, I’m good enough.

    Are you telling me that at night when you walk around this huge place you don’t feel lonely? It friggin’ echoes in here!

    He got to his feet and stepped around the coffee table. I don’t want anyone else around. Simple. He stopped in front of the extinguished fireplace and put his mug onto the mantle.

    The fireplace is empty, she stated.

    "No! You would’ve made it big in forensics with that power of observation."

    You haven’t stoked the fireplace because you want it cold in here. Look at this place. It’s so big that even with all your stuff in it it’ll still look empty, and that’s what you are right now.

    I haven’t had time to order the wood. Did you think about that? And what’s wrong with having space?

    It’s winter. It’s freezing at night, and during the day it’s still in single digits, and you’re telling me you haven’t had time to pick up a phone and order a load of wood which would take all of five minutes? Don’t bullshit me.

    You’re talking to — no, berating — a person who for fun stands outside in minus temperatures for most of the night with a telescope. I don’t give a toss about the cold.

    Listen. Do you hear that? It’s dead silent in here. Not even a clock. It’s silent, it’s cold, it’s spacious. You’ve re-engineered your life to emulate what you see through the eyepiece. You don’t have any more friends, and you don’t want to date anyone. That isn’t healthy, and I’m not going to sit by and watch you suffer.

    William rubbed his face with both hands and sighed loudly. You make it sound easy. Just don’t worry about what happened and move on. What would you do if that happened to you, huh? Being done over, and then when she was busted she tried to pin it on to me — and they almost believed it!

    He stepped away from the fireplace and stared through the window at the twilight landscape. I never had anyone like her before. She killed me.

    I know you loved her. I never saw you so infatuated before, but you knew that developing an intimate relationship with your partner was really, really stupid.

    Why don’t you quit being a doctor and go join the Police Integrity Commission, so you can have a proper go at me like they did.

    It was her decision to get involved with that mob, not yours. Your problem was that when you found out what she was up to you turned yourself inside out until you couldn’t take it anymore, and then you reported it. That was four years ago. You’re hanging on to all that mistrust and anger like it’s a protective blanket so it doesn’t happen again, but it’s dragging you down.

    Do you expect me to flick a switch and be all smiley, happy?

    I’m not saying that. She and her mates in the force got what was coming to them, and yeah, you had a hard time afterwards — but it’s over. If it wasn’t for the money you made from your investing you might still be there, but they were adamant you were in on it despite all the financial records you gave them, remember? Your career was done, thank God for that, and everyone from that whole shitshow has moved on — except for one person. Do you want to guess who that is?

    Let me think. Is it the dude who runs the BP down the road?

    I’m being serious, dickhead!

    Look, you can’t bitch that much. I’ve made a lot of progress. The force is in the past, and I’ve got a good job that opened a lot of doors, so for me that’s pretty good.

    Yeah, I’ll give you that. You did bounce back. Though you still owe me.

    Just because you introduced me to one of your uni mates who owns an investment business doesn’t mean you get a medal.

    Kev keeps joking that he wants to make a statue of you and put it in reception. You took his company through the roof. You always had a talent for business, but you had to come to everyone’s rescue and became a cop. Look, we’ll call it even if you concede to going out on a date. I have someone in mind, and I bet if you spent some time with a genuinely kind-hearted person you’d open up.

    The psychologist said the same thing, and I’m going to tell you what I told her: I did that already. No thanks.

    He turned to pick up his mug, and she had vanished and the furniture had been replaced with contemporary pieces. The chandelier lights extinguished, then the room filled with an intense glow. He turned back to the window — in the distance a towering column of amber cloud rose, then a silhouetted torrent of dirt and debris headed toward the house.

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