Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

and finer hair. Dark rimmed eyes looked at me and I didn't see Lukas in them - just a stranger.
    "How would you rate the pain?" One of the women asked Lukas, her digital pad at the ready to write down what was said.
    Lukas swiped a towel across his alien forehead. "About a six," he said in a voice too deep to be his own. "Not as bad as before, but still strong."
    The men released Lukas and gave him some space. They proceeded with more tests that I had no understanding of. Lukas placed his hand on a pad, something registered, his eyes were checked, and his vitals reported. I stayed silent and unmoving in my corner through all of it - lost to what I was supposed to think. It felt like an eternity, but it only lasted a few minutes. Dr. Mercier was with the medical staff taking a closer look at the data. With their attention elsewhere, Lukas made his way over to stand next to me. I tried to look at him, but averted my eyes almost instantly.
    It was hard separating the fact that I knew Lukas was standing next to me, versus the fact that I didn't see my friend in those eyes. I wanted to say something to break the uncomfortable silence, but my mind was utterly blank.
    "This is what we are." Lukas finally broke the silence. His hand reached for me and I flinched. "We change, we become others."
    I shook my head and one fearful thought crossed my mind - I cannot see myself ever doing what Lukas just did, and if I can't do what he does, the only fate that awaits me is certain death.
    ****
    It started with Lukas giving me 'shifting' lessons; telling me what I am suppose to feel, and how I'm suppose to react. He tried to tone down how painful the experience was, but I knew he was just trying not to scare me. Too late for that.
    I started joining him on his shifting tests, and while not less pleasant than that first experience, I did get used to the process and what to expect. I started noticing things here and there. Like the fact that all the people Lukas shifted to were male, and the fact that while body types tended to change, Lukas' height always remained the same. I also noticed that the pain decreased with each shift.
    They started testing me more forcibly as well, now that I knew the true nature of my existence. Before they would just give me liquids and ask me what I felt afterwards. Now they directed me into trying to force a shift. It didn't help when they revealed that each vial they forced me to drink contained genetic material.
    I wasn't happy anymore.
    The lessons. The tests. All of it added to my regular training routine took a toll on me. Weeks passed and nothing worked. I was useless as a shifter. I knew that. They knew that. But no one was willing to say it out loud.
    Uneasiness filled my days and I started to view my routine, and my failures, as a clock counting down to the end of my life. Lukas and Dr. Mercier were the first to notice the change in my demeanor and the first to try and ease my restlessness. But even with their attentions I sank deeper into dark thoughts and hopelessness.
    Change was in the air, and it took form in the shape of a man that came into our ivory world without announcement. He was an older man, grey had completely taken over his hair, and his manner and pose spoke of a man that had not spent his life in the ways of science, but in the ways of war. Dr. Mercier went out of her way to accommodate him. She tried to show him the facility, but the man only had one interest - Lukas and I.
    "Which one is this?" The man asked, looking over Lukas. We stood together side by side as the man paced around us. I had been under observation my entire life, scrutiny rarely made me uneasy, but this man made me feel like I wasn't even a living thing.
    "NB1." One of the men from the medical staff answered.
    "Lukas," Dr. Mercier corrected. "Next to him is Gabriel."
    "ID Number?"
    "GAB-27"
    The man frowned. "I thought the GAB line had been terminated almost a year ago."
    "He's the last one . " Dr. Mercier was visibly unpleased with the conversation, but she hid it well, keeping her professional composure intact.
    "Can he shift?"
    "Not yet. We have been testing extensively and-"
    "Why is he still active if he can't shift?"
    Dr. Mercier demanded one of the digital pads from the staff and brought forth some records. "His medical tests show he has an 87% probability of successfully shifting."
    "Today. Can he shift today? Has he ever shifted at all?"
    Dr. Mercier pulled the digital pad close to her chest.