Shifting Power

by Dacia M Arnold

  “Bug off, the lot of you. I’m not in the mood for this today.” The cup of tea shook in his hand. Anger? Anxiety? Not waiting for his classmates to gather their things, Sam made his way for the door. He reached for the handle and in a little more than the blink of an eye, the lights in the common room dimmed and a bolt of electricity shot from Sam’s hand to the old ornate nob, catching the wooden door on fire.

  “Bloody hell!” Marcus yelled. “Get the extinguisher!”

  Benji dumped his water bottle on the flames. Michael appeared with the extinguisher and fogged up the room. Marcus stood, mouth gaping at Sam. He only moved to cough a little from the smoke.

  “We need to get you to Professor Baldwin immediately,” Marcus said blinking.

  “What? Don’t you mean the clinic? But I’m fine.”

  “I’d say,” Benji said, approaching slowly studying Sam. “You’re like a British Thor.”

  “Piss off,” Sam shoved Benji away, toppling him over on the floor.

  “Whoa, man!” Marcus yelled. “You can’t just transform into a superhero and go shoving people. You probably have like super strength or something. You could have killed him.”

  Strangely, the anxiety and frustration Sam felt moments before were gone. The shock did not hurt, but felt like a massive release of tension. His hands, wrists, arms were not his own. His pants nearly dropped when he noticed every ounce of fat on his body was replaced with hard muscle. Examining his pal’s faces, he began to laugh. They nervously joined in looking back and forth at each other.

  “Can you do it again?” Benji asked finally.

  “I don’t know how I did it in the first place. You’re probably lucky it didn’t happen when you all were being jerks.”

  Benji and Michael fell silent at the suggestion.

  “Let’s find Professor Baldwin,” Sam agreed at last. “If anyone can figure this phenomenon out, it’s that busy body old man.”

  “Shouldn’t we stop for breakfast first?” Michael asked skeptically, flinching after the words escaped his mouth.

  “As odd as it sounds, I’m not even the least bit hungry. But perhaps I should borrow some pants first?”

  Standing every inch of his height, Sam returned to the common room with his shoulders squared high and his now distinguished chin up. He was still the big guy, but they would never dare tease him again. They could, because Sam never defended himself, but they were scared. Hell, even he was scared of himself. The lights above him flickered as he rounded each landing of the stairs. When he got to the common room, the only light came through the tall windows leading to the quad.

  “I still can’t figure this out,” Marcus said as they walked across the courtyard to the sciences wing. “So we have an instantaneous manipulation of the body mass index, accompanied by that crazy bolt of lightning. I mean, Thor is looking like a solid theory at this point. Pardon me, but first you were big fat Sam and now you you’re big meathead Sam.”

  “You’re rambling,” Sam said. He was not Thor. Thor was Irish anyhow. Even though he did not know a thing about his biological parents, the prospect of being a real life superhero was not science. There must be a precedent. There is always a precedent and not one buried in comic book lore or fairy tales.

  Benji and Michael walked in silence. Their eyes burned holes into his back. In the common room, Sam felt powerful in front of his mates, but out in the open he felt exposed and vulnerable. What if the effect wore off and he burst out of the small shorts he had taken from Benji and the whole courtyard saw him in his underwear? Fat Sam naked in the quad. He would never make it to graduation. Sam walked faster, eyes on the safety of the arched pillared building of the sciences wing.

  Without knocking, Marcus swung open the door to Professor Baldwin’s office. The scientist did not look up from his morning paper. Stone cold, the man was, at every moment. He had their respect by his massive wealth of knowledge, but he did not budge in the face of excitement. Ever.

  “Professor,” Marcus began.

  “Professor, something is wrong with me,” Sam interrupted.

  Baldwin looked up slowly. He guided his tea cup down and eyed Sam over.

  “What time did this happen?”

  “About fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Benji, grab a pen and notebook. You’re my scribe. Michael, I need you to alert the heads of chemistry and the genetics professor, possibly meteorology but hold off on that until you find those two. Tell them nothing of why, just tell them… umm.” Baldwin finally broke his eye contact with Sam in search of the words. “Tell them, ‘the alarm clock is chiming and it’s time to wake up’.”

  Michael’s head tilted at the instruction.

  “Go, now! ‘The alarm is chiming and it’s time to wake up.’ No. Awaken. Tell them, ‘the clock is chiming and it’s time to awaken.’ Hurry!”

  Michael ran from the room. Professor Baldwin stood and walked over to Sam. “I think I know what’s happening to you, dear Sam. And it’s nothing to be afraid of. I assume your new appearance is quite permanent, however, and could possibly indicate something greater on the horizon.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Marcus, get the blinds and cover the ceiling cameras in the lab. We might not have much time before the Queen’s guard or the SIS come. Sam, can I collect some of your blood?”

  “Am I going to die? Will the SIS throw me in prison?”

  “Do you remember the children’s story about the little brother who was sold to the circus after he woke up different from his jealous twin brothers?”

  “The old fairy tale? No. I mean, yes, I know the story, but this isn’t like folklore. There can’t be precedents set by fiction. No superheroes, no fairytales…”

  “You, Sam, are the special younger brother. The royal government is the circus, and it won’t be long until the twins rat you out to them. Someone will report you and they will come here to take you. It is where you belong.”

  “But, why? I didn’t do anything wrong? I didn’t mean to do this.”

  “If I remember correctly, you’re adopted. Right?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know who my parents are. They just dumped me on the hospital steps.”

  “You have royal blood. The Queen, the princes, their children. I believe they have all woken up today with their bodies changed similar to yours.”

  Sam smirked imagining the tiny Queen as a tall muscular woman.

  “Listen, Sam. You are starting on a journey that will give you more power than you ever imagined possible for yourself. Power over government and people. You are a good person with a good heart. Never settle for what’s best for only some people. Don’t stop until you figure out what is best for all the people. Old or young. Rich or poor. Special or ordinary. No matter your opposition. No matter the cost. Understand what I am saying?”

  Sam nodded, and replayed the words in his head as he did during lecture. The intensity of Professor Baldwin’s expression told him this was more than just a lesson, but something he needed to hold onto for life. Best for all people. No matter the opposition. No matter the cost. He was terrified.

  The lab door slammed open against the wall as Michael made a dramatic enterance trailed by four people. Two pushed carts of lab supplies.

  “Who are they?” Baldwin demanded. “You do understand the need to be discrete, Enid.”

  “You have your team, I have mine. Thank you, Michael for your assistance, now go fetch the rest,” commanded a middle aged woman in a long white coat. “Who is this? What happened?”

  “Doctor Enid Guest, this is Subject Alpha 1, Samuel Harrington.”

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  Da
cia M Arnold is an award-winning American novelist, freelance writer, mother, and ten-year Army Veteran. She is the author of Apparent Power, Reactance and Shifting Power, and a small collection called The Brightest Firefly. As a freelance writer, Dacia contributes monthly to the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writer’s blog where she shares her relatively short experience in the literary world. She will never turn down an invitation to karaoke, because she is here to party but also be in bed by 8pm. Dacia’s pipedream is to one day narrate an episode of “Drunk History” and tell the story of “The Unsinkable” Molly Brown. Until then her friends must suffer through unsolicited rehearsals.

  Dacia would like to thank the many, many people who made this possible and cheered me on:

  Shaula, Stephanie, Ashley, Kyria, My Mother, Rachel, Tim Pike of ChapterBuzz.com, Kaitlyn, Jamie, Lindsay, Christian, Michelle, Abbie, Kimberley, Jenepher, Katrina, Shirley, TIFFANY (tell your husband I mean YOU!), Shannon, Tasha, Jeff, Chris, Veronica with horns, Aften, Katy, Julie, Heather, Rachael, Jake, Nang, Somer, Mary, Stephen, Lucas, Chris, Krystle, Korri, Kayla, Darci, and Kristen. This list continues to grow daily and if your name isn’t here, know that you still mean the world to me. For all your friendships and feedback throughout this process.

  To Atlanta, Kayla, Briana, Mrs. Kuffrey, Mrs. Grimme, Sierra, Claudia, Andee, Savy, Dana, Tammy, Jessica, Yude, Megan, Alyssa, and Ms. Helen for wrangling my kids while I worked.

  To Corinne O’Flynn and all the Authors Unwritten, Sherry Ficklin, Preslaysa Williams, Jon Messenger, Becky LeJeune, Liz Durano, Larry Berry, Diane Jewkes, Wendy Terrien, Andre Gonzalez, Todd and Stephanie Leatherman, Thea Hutchinson, Nathan Lowell, Heather Houston, Haley Cavanagh, Tiffany Martin, Jamie Kassik, Meradith Houston Snow, Lindsay Flanagan, Christian Bentulan, Katy Wood, Amy Delcambre, Meredith Dole, for all your advice and for believing I was worth your wisdom. Again, I am so fortunate to have so many professionals to breathe life into me when I wonder what I am even doing here. THANK YOU!

  To Holli Anderson, my former Acquisitions Editor, and Immortal Works Press for lighting the fire under my butt to write another book after requesting the first.

  To My AMAZING Patrons: Jack, Cherie, Laci, and my little sister, Kyria (yes you’re in here twice).

  To Greg, the love of my life. I know I’m a crazy person sometimes, but having you here on this journey with me really keeps me going.

  To everyone who has touched my life in anyway. THANK YOU!