Imposter

by Chanda Stafford

  Worthless

  Will

  As I sit by the fountain in the courtyard, listening to the cicadas drone and the night birds chirp, Ben ambles past me to the far gate. He sniffs the bottom of the heavy metal barrier as though searching for someone. After a few moments, his tail droops, his ears sink, and his head hangs low to the ground. With a heavy sigh, he turns around and wanders back toward me.

  “Are you searching for your master? He’s in there sleeping like a king, I bet.”

  Ben harrumphs, gives me a soulful look, and then curls up on the ground next to me.

  I reach down and ruffle the short hair behind his ears. “That can’t be a comfortable place to sleep.”

  He ignores me.

  “Why aren’t you with Socrates? Doesn’t he need you anymore? Doesn’t he care about you?” I can taste the bitterness in my words. Ben’s ears twitch, but he doesn’t move. “Now that he’s healthy and young again, you’re pretty much worthless.”

  Ben thumps his tail. Huh, maybe he understands more than I think.

  “You and me both,” I mutter. “They say I’m doing the right thing by staying here and protecting Socrates, but I swear I should be doing more. Even if I was back at the Smith, I could be helping with whatever plan they’ve been working on. And Evie, she needs me, too.” I kick at a small rock on the ground, sending it spinning off into the shadows. “I wish there were classes or training or anything I could take for that, but I guess becoming a parent doesn’t have a manual. From what I’ve heard, you just kinda learn as you go along.” Staring into the water gurgling in the fountain, I imagine a baby, so tiny she can fit in the palm of my hands. She has Evie’s dark hair, and luminous eyes. My hands start shaking so I grip the edge of the fountain with all of my might. “I don’t know about you, boy, but I’d almost rather stay with the Lifers than be a dad. I don’t know if I can do it.”

  Ben lifts his head to watch me for a few seconds and then sets it down again on his paws.

  “I know, I know.” I let out a half-hearted chuckle. “And whomever it was on the com unit said that after all this was over, I’d be done. Then—” I lift my hands and stare at them in the moonlight—“I guess it’s time to get married.” I grimace, my mind conjuring Mira’s face and the future we’ll never have. “Life moves on.” Pain rams its way back into my chest.

  Ben stands up and walks over to me. Leaning against my leg, he sighs and rests his head on my knee. Unconsciously, my hand drifts down to his head and scratches him behind the ears.

  Slowly, the noise in my head gives way to the night insects filling the air with their serenade. “Evie’s going to give birth pretty soon, and I need to step it up.” I let out a short, barking laugh. “Grow up, that’s what my dad would say.”

  The dog sighs, his eyebrows twitching as he gazes up at me.

  I chuckle. “My thoughts exactly.” I close my eyes and let the soothing sound of the water bubbling in the fountain help me relax. Just as I’m lulled into a peaceful sense of quiet, a cold wind picks up, showering me with miniscule droplets of water. An owl cries in the distance and a small rodent squeaks in terror. So much for relaxing.

  I take a deep breath and give Ben one final scratch. “I guess it’s time to go in, buddy. If we have to go back to the Smith tomorrow, we might as well try to get some sleep.” I stand up and glance down at the dog, but Ben doesn’t move. “Are you coming?”

  He stands up, stretches, and starts sniffing something at the base of the fountain.

  “Suit yourself.” I walk into the house but leave the door cracked behind me just in case he decides to come inside.

  Too Much

  Mira

  “Are you packed?” Eliot asks me as she enters the dining room. Early morning light filters through the heavy, ancient curtains.

  “Yeah.” I lean back in my chair and stare at my hands.

  Eliot sits down across from me. “Good. I have some work that’s going to keep me out late tonight, so I’ll take the room adjoining yours. That way you can get your sleep. How does that sound?”

  My stomach twists. I hadn’t even thought about that. The thought of being alone terrifies me. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t it be better if we stayed together?”

  Ellie shrugs. “Normally we would, but some of these meetings go on through all hours of the night, and I don’t want to disturb you. Besides, marriages are annulled when either party has an Exchange so technically we’re not married any longer.” She studies me for a few seconds. “However, if you’re nervous, I can try to move the meetings so I can stay with you.”

  “No, no.” I rush to cover my embarrassment. “I can take care of myself.”

  She pats my hand. “Remember, I’ll be just next door if you need me.”

  “Like I said, I’ll be fine.”

  Will brings in a tray with three bowls of steaming oatmeal. He grips the edges tightly, his knuckles white as he sets the tray down on the desk. His piercing look nearly breaks through my mental walls, but I ignore him. Instead, I focus on the little dust motes floating in the shafts of sunlight.

  Eliot clears her throat. “For heaven’s sake, Soc. What’s going on with you?”

  I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “I’m sorry. I really am. I’m just… tired.” I swirl the orange juice in my glass, and for a second the image shifts to that of a wine glass filled with blood. Hand shaking, I set it down on the table with a loud clank. I’m not thirsty anymore.

  Eliot doesn’t respond, but I can tell from her expression that she doesn’t believe me.

  “Really, I’m okay. I just had a rough night.”

  She smiles, but there isn’t any humor in it. “Me too.”

  What would keep her up at night? Oh yeah, missing Socrates. Everything in this house must remind her of him. I don’t know if I could live here if our were situations reversed.

  Will clears his throat behind me. “Socrates?”

  I wince at the flicker of pain the mention of Socrates’s name brings to Ellie’s face. “Yes.”

  “Is there anything further you require of me? I’d like to finalize the arrangements for our return to the Smith.” There isn’t any emotion in his voice. He sounds like the AVIS, just giving us information without expecting any feedback other than the next command.

  “No, thank you, Will. We’ve got it handled,” Eliot supplies when words fail me. “You’re free to go.”

  Will’s mouth tightens, but that’s the only reaction he allows to show on his face. “Fine, I’ll go make sure all of your luggage is loaded in the Jeep.” He stalks from the dining room without waiting for a reply.

  “Well, he’s in as good a mood as you, I believe.” Eliot chuckles. “Maybe even better.” With a scowl, I get to my feet and stomp out of the dining room, hoping a walk will help clear my head before we leave.

  After finishing breakfast, I take Ben and meet Eliot out in the courtyard by the front gate.

  “Ready to go?”

  I gulp down the sour taste in my throat. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

  “Good.” Eliot smiles and ruffles her hand through the fuzz growing on my head. “You’re bringing Ben?”

  “Well, yeah.” I look at her quizzically. “He’s my companion, right? It would be strange if I didn’t bring him just because I switched into a younger body, wouldn’t it?”

  She reaches down to stroke the big mixed breed. For a moment, a great sadness overwhelms her features. Her fingers pause over his head. “Of course you’re right.” Another second passes before she stands up, takes a deep breath, and turns away from me. Without another word, she walks over to the Jeep and slides into the front seat. I get in the back, and Ben jumps in next to me.

  Will brings our bags out, jerks the back of the Jeep down, tosses them in, and then climbs into the driver’s seat. He says something to Eliot, who gives him a thumbs-up before he revs the engine. As the beast comes to life, I grab the faded handle above my head and hold on tight as we rumble around the dr
ive and leave the compound.

  Will doesn’t say a word on the ride to the transport hub, where we hop in a pod to get back to the Smith.

  Once we get to the Smith, Will drops my bags off at my room. “Would it be all right with you if I went back to my apartment?”

  “No, that’s fine,” Ellie says. “Please ask someone to bring some lunch for us on the way.”

  “As you wish,” he replies before leaving my room. Five minutes later, a young, blond servant boy with a nervous smile brings Eliot and me a tray of food.

  “We need to talk about your speech,” she says after the boy leaves.

  I bite my lip. “I know. I just don’t know what to say.”

  Eliot chuckles. “You’ve always hated these things.” She emphasizes the word with an exaggerated wink. “You never like to plan your speeches. It drives me crazy. I like to have everything laid out, point by point, so that I know exactly what I need to say.”

  Right, something else Socrates never prepared me for. “I was terrible at it, wasn’t I?”

  She looks down at her hands, forces them to relax, and smooths them on her pants. “On the contrary, you’ve always been one of the best.”

  Is she still talking about giving speeches? “I thought I wasn’t really any good at anything”—I give her a shaky smile—“but surviving.”

  She squeezes my hand. “That was another lifetime, my love. Who you were, who any of us were, doesn’t matter anymore. Every lifetime is a new start and a new opportunity to change the world. So what if those old goats don’t like it? It’s none of their concern. All that matters is that with every lifetime you live, you make a difference, no matter how small. This Bill is your chance. Your opportunity to change the lives of thousands of people. Thousands of citizens who haven’t had a voice in two hundred years. Who cares who you were, Soc? Yes, the past is important—“she opens her arms widely, encompassing both of us—“that’s why we’re here. However, those with the power to pass this Bill will be listening to you, not reading a history book. They won’t remember, or probably really care, about who you were before. It’s the person speaking before them who has the power to sway their decision, not the person some argued was partially responsible for starting the damn war in the first place!”

  My eyes burn, but Eliot’s are also welling up with tears, so I don’t feel that self-conscious. “Or maybe they’ll decide I’m as crazy as Carroll and I’ll find myself sitting next to him at the institution.”

  Eliot hides her smile as she pulls out a thin tablet from the drawer of her bedside table. “Have you given any thought to what you want to talk about?”

  “I don’t know. Should I start with the Immigration War? I could talk about what happened and why it happened. Kind of refresh people’s minds a bit. What do you think?” Come on, Mira. Is that the best you can come up with?

  Eliot taps on her tablet. Her fingers, so slim and strong, morph into those of my former teacher, Edward Flannigan, convicted and killed because of his ties to the Lifers. I blink, and in my mind, I see him standing tall, admitting his allegiance to the rebels, and then slowly crumbling as the first bullets pierce his stained white tunic.

  “What else?”

  “Um, I could talk about the Lifers and what their goals are.”

  Her fingers hover over the screen. “That may not be such a good idea. In the current political climate, they’re not very popular.”

  “This speech is about making a difference, right? What better group to discuss?”

  “You need to really think about the impact of your words. Yes, whatever you choose to talk about could help you win this thing, but it could also help you lose it, as well.”

  Or get you killed. I chew on my lip. “What about the Surrogacy program? I could also talk about Carroll and other failures like him. I could talk about the kids. The ones who disappear like my—I mean Mira’s sister.”

  Humor fills Eliot’s expression. “That could take hours. You might want to narrow your focus a bit more.”

  I flush, the excitement making me jittery. “It’s too much. You’re right.” Even as the words leave my lips, ideas flood my mind. If I think about this and really work out what I want to say, I can use this to my advantage rather than see it as a disaster waiting to happen.

  “No, no, those are all good topics, but we’ll probably need to organize it a bit more. It might be easier to memorize that way.”

  She scoots closer to me, and for the next several hours, we get to work.

  What I Wanted

  Will

  The air inside my apartment already feels stuffy and stale, as though it’s been vacant for months instead of just a couple days. The lights turn on as I walk in, illuminating bare walls, a brownish-tan couch, and short beige carpeting. The only way to tell I even live here is the clothes in the closet. Even then, we all wear the same uniforms.

  The stillness creeps me out. After just a few days at Socrates’s house in Santa Fe, I already miss the unending chorus of birds and insects. I also can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. It’s all Eliot’s fault. If she hadn’t told me that I almost got arrested, then I’d be able to do my job in blissful ignorance.

  The front door opens behind me, silent except for the quiet click of the latch. I spin around as a shadow slinks in and closes the door behind her. Stepping into the light, Evie’s hair shines in a dark waterfall down her back, and her heart-shaped face glows.

  “Will,” she whispers. Even though she’s only wearing a flowing black tank top and sheer black pants, she looks incredible. A sudden pang of longing slices through me, followed by loneliness. Even though Evie and I fight more often than not, we’re stuck together. She’s the only one close to me who understands, albeit slightly, what’s happening. I move toward her, unbidden. I can’t help myself. Everyone needs comfort sometimes.

  “I missed you.” She tucks her head under the crook of my chin. “I need you here with me. Please don’t leave again.”

  I close my eyes and rub wide circles on her back. She whimpers and melts into me. “I’m sorry. I would never have gone if I’d had the choice.”

  “I know. I talked to Gregor and some of the others. My dad even said that Socrates forced you to go. I’m sorry I got so angry at you.” She pulls her head far enough away to pepper my neck and chest with soft, delicate kisses.

  A deep growl escapes from my throat. As I feel myself sinking into her touch, I pull away. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Why not?” She plants her hands on her hips. “We’re engaged, Will.” She pats her stomach. “And I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re having a baby.”

  I give her a rueful smile. “You know, I was wondering why you agreed to marry me. I figured it had something to do with my good lucks and my charm.”

  She scowls down at her belly. “I think she has your personality, too. She’s always kicking me in the ribs and rearranging my internal organs.”

  I feel myself soften as I watch Evie. It’s not her fault I’m in this predicament. It’s not our baby’s, either.

  Evie balances on her tiptoes and presses her soft lips to my neck. She trails kisses along my jawline and down to the base of my throat. My pulse jumps at her touch, and a slow burn kindles deep inside me. Molding my lips to hers, I tighten my arms around her body.

  “Just hold me, please. I know we fight a lot, but I really have missed you.” She presses her firm, round breasts against my chest and runs her fingers lightly down my spine.

  “Evie, stop. We shouldn’t.” My voice sounds weak even to me. Another moan lodges itself deep in my throat.

  “Why? We’ve always been good together.”

  I close my eyes at her words, and suddenly it’s not Evie in my arms. Its Mira pressing kisses to my neck and making my pulse race. Mira smoothing her hands on my back in slow circles. Mira carrying my child. My mind freezes. What are you doing, Will? Stop it! It’s not her. It’ll never be her. I put my hands on Evie’s should
ers and take a step back. “But that’s just it. Our relationship started with one stupidly drunken night. That was it. I never really even talked to you much before that, or afterwards until you found out you were pregnant. Our whole relationship revolves around that mistake.” I run my fingers through my short hair. “We can’t sustain a happy relationship when all we do is fight and make up.”

  She offers me a devilish wink that must have worked her entire life. “I’ve never heard you complaining about the making up part.”

  I sigh and plop down on the couch and rest my face in my hands. “That’s not it. Physically yes, we’re good. But we don’t have anything in common.”

  She huffs and drops down next to me. “Since when has that mattered? I thought that our marriage would be a name only kind of thing.”

  I turn to stare at her. “Is that what you really want? To raise our daughter as friends, but live separate lives?”

  She bites her lip and in that small motion, I see all her certainty, her confidence, and her surety melt away. She’s afraid, just like me. “No,” she whispers.

  I take her hands in mine. “That’s not what I want, either.” I turn her palm over and study the fine lines etched in its surface. “I know I made some mistakes, but we have a second chance here. I think if we really try, we can have a real marriage.”

  Evie pulls back her trembling hand and tucks it into her lap. “Do you think we could really be a family?”

  I nod, and a smile tugs at one of the corners of my mouth. “I know it wouldn’t be the future you wanted, because I’m not a First or a famous dignitary who can take you away from all this, but I can promise you I’ll do my best by you. I’ll try to be what you need me to be.”