Imposter

by Chanda Stafford

  Out in the hallway, I stand on my tiptoes and search for a face as familiar as my own brother’s, but he’s not there. Disappointment saturates every bone in my body. Stop being such an idiot, Mira. He’s not here.

  “What was that about?” Will grabs my arm, his grip like a vise. I spin around, and my heart leaps into my throat. I try to jerk my arm out of his grasp, but I can’t. The rage simmering in his eyes scares me a little bit. “How could you take advantage of… of her sacrifice to play your stupid little political games?”

  “Will, what are you—”

  “Save it, old man.” His fury twists his face into a sneer. “I’ve protected you, I’ve served you, and I’ve been willing to risk my life for you, all because Mira asked me to. And this is how your repay her? She was a better person than you’ll ever be, you sick, disgusting—”

  Without even thinking about it, my hand cracks against the side of his face with enough force to turn his head. “How dare you talk to me about taking advantage of someone.” He lifts a hand to his cheek. “You made Mira fall in love with you while you were stringing Evie along. If anyone’s sick and disgusting, it’s you!” I spin around to stalk away and that’s when I finally see Tanner, staring at me from under a shadowy doorway. He’s here.

  Your Love Isn’t Worth Very Much

  Will

  “Tanner?” Socrates’s voice is so quiet I think I’m the only one who hears it.

  Why does that name sound familiar? I glance at the doorway, but the figure is gone. All of the rage I’d felt evaporates. Stupid, stupid Will. Stories run through my head about what happens to servants who defy their Firsts. I can’t do that to Evie.

  Uncertain, I reach out and touch Socrates’s arm. “Sir, I… I’m sorry. I should never have said that.” I touch his arm, and he spins around, his expression morphing into the stone-cold mask I’d seen on so many other Firsts.

  “No, you shouldn’t have. You’re lucky I don’t have you killed.”

  Bile rises up my throat. “But you sounded just like her.”

  “Of course I did. That’s what we’re good at. Faking it. We Firsts have done it for hundreds of years, and we’ll do it for hundreds more.”

  I take a step back, the horror at his admission making my mind freeze. “I… I…”

  Socrates follows my movement, a fire igniting in his eyes. “Besides—“he stabs a finger into my chest—“you have a child on the way.” Another poke. “You’re engaged. Even if you did have feelings for Mira, how could you do that to the mother of your child?”

  Defeat steals my protest. He’s right. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “To what? Make her love you?” Socrates balls his slim hands into fists. The tips of his ears turn red, his cheeks pink.

  “How did you know?” My voice breaks, my shoulders fall, and my heart follows suit. “Did she tell you? Are her memories still in there?”

  Socrates shakes his head scornfully. “Mira is dead. Get that through your thick skull. I was her First; I know everything about her.”

  Even though he’s so much shorter and smaller than me, Socrates’s scorn almost brings me to my knees.

  “What you did when Mira was alive was inexcusable.”

  Pain rips through me. “I loved her.”

  “Tell that to Evie.”

  I stagger back another step. “Do you think I wanted this? I didn’t. It just… it just happened.”

  “Of course. It was completely accidental.”

  I grit my teeth but don’t say a word. Anything I say would just damn me further.

  “You betrayed her. You used her and treated her terribly. You’re worse than scum.” Socrates takes a deep breath. “If Mira knew about your betrayal, it would break her heart.” Something else flickers in his gaze before he breaks mine.

  Socrates is right about all of it, and the weight of his words crush me. “I loved her.”

  “Yes, well, your love isn’t worth very much now, is it?” Socrates turns away from me then glances back over his shoulder. “Go back to Evie, Will. I have no further need for your services.”

  Little Girl

  Mira

  My heart shatters into little tiny pieces, but I can’t take back my words. Stop it. You shouldn’t feel bad. He’s betrayed you, not the other way around. He deserved everything I said and more. I fight back tears as I walk away, stiff-legged because I feel as though I’m going to collapse at any second.

  For a second I wish I was like Carroll and that I wasn’t alone in my head. Socrates, are you in there? Maybe, magically, he’ll answer me. But there’s no response.

  I fumble for the door to my room and it takes a couple tries before it opens. After I slip inside and shut the door, I lean against it. Ben sniffs my pants, and his tail wags in broad waves. His cold nose nudges my hand, and he whines. I sink to the ground as a sob catches in my throat. The words I said to Will bounce around inside my head. What have I done?

  Ben crawls into my lap, and I wrap my arms around him. “I wish you could have been there,” I murmur into his shiny coat. “I wish Socrates could have been there.” I bury my face into his neck. “He would have done so much better than me. He would have been amazing, and they all would have believed him. He wouldn’t have lost it, and…” I can’t finish. I choke up and sob into Ben’s shoulder. The door abruptly swings open and bangs into the wall. Eliot steps inside and searches the dimly lit room. When she finds me, she crouches down next to me and ruffles Ben’s ears. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her dig her EG out of her pocket and flick it on.

  “Are you okay? You left pretty quickly after your speech.” She focuses on Ben, but I’m sure her question is directed at me.

  I choke back a laugh. Where do I start? First, I ruined my speech, and then I saw Tanner and rushed out like a fool. “I had to get out of there. I couldn’t handle the pressure anymore.” I scratch Ben between his shoulder blades, and he kicks one of his hind legs. He licks the air in a goofy canine grin, and I start to relax. “I’m sorry. I know I should have stayed, but I just couldn’t.”

  Ellie leans back against the wall and stares at the ceiling. “You know, half of them actually believe you’re Mira and not Socrates. They think this was some grandly orchestrated plan by the Lifers to gain control and overthrow the government. The other half thinks it was all an act to get attention before they vote on the Bill.”

  I rub the moisture from my eyes. “Of course they do. Only someone as twisted as a First or a politician would use a dead girl’s little sister for shock value.”

  “You are one of those Firsts that you speak of so harshly, you know.”

  I drop my chin to my chest. “Yeah, I know.” We sit in silence for a couple minutes before I turn to face her. “Can I ask you a question?” She nods, her eyes full of curiosity. “What’ll happen to me after the Bill passes? Can I go home?”

  A humorless smile twists her lips. “And where would that be? Technically, Santa Fe is your home. Or are you referring to that little farm you came from?”

  I chew on that for a few seconds. “I…I guess I don’t know.” I gesture all around me. “I just know I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life.”

  “I’m afraid the political maelstrom is a part of your identity now.”

  “Because I’m Socrates.” My voice is bitter.

  “Well, yes.”

  “So it’s probably out of the question that I reveal who I am, right?”

  She quirks an eyebrow at me. “You would label yourself a failure. They would commit you to one of those institutions like your friend, Carroll.”

  “I’d like to avoid that if at all possible.” I stand up to pace the room, keeping close enough to Ellie that the EG would still cover my words. “Maybe I could just go to the forest, live with the rebels or something.”

  Eliot jerks her head toward the window. “You’d deny Carroll but claim that group out on the front steps? I’m not so sure that’s a step up.”

  Embar
rassment creeps up my cheeks. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Ellie laces her fingers behind her head and watches me pace before speaking. “Some of us are blessed to lead normal, boring lives, but some aren’t. Your fate, I’m afraid, was sealed the day Socrates chose you at the farm.”

  “So you’re telling me that no matter what happens with the vote, the future I wanted will never happen?”

  Sadness engulfs her expression all of a sudden, pinching the lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes. “The war for freedom is never over. It doesn’t matter how old you are, or how many speeches you’ve given, or how many fights you’ve fought, there’s always a new star to reach for, and some new horizon to sail toward. My love taught me that.”

  I take a deep breath. “So what do I do now?”

  “You have two choices. You can sit here acting like a heartbroken little girl, or you take a deep breath and do something with this amazing gift Socrates gave you.” Eliot’s expression darkens in pain. Sometimes I forget how much she loved him.

  She shakes herself free of her memories and gives me a grim smile. “What’s it going to be?”

  Everyone Knows

  Will

  “How dare you!” Evie attacks me as soon as the door to my apartment clicks shut behind me. She shoves me against the wall and, despite the difference in size and strength, I let her. One look at her face, flushed with fury, tells me she knows everything.

  “I can’t believe you chased after him like that! Everybody thinks you’re cheating on me with him.” Shock and hurt replaces her rage for a second before being overwhelmed again.

  “Evie.” I cup her hands in mine. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

  She jerks out of my grasp. “You didn’t what? You didn’t think? Did you honestly believe he was still that stupid farm girl you were so infatuated with?” She pokes me in the chest.

  “No, I—”

  “Of course not! Did you even think for one split second how much what you’re doing hurts me? Has that ever crossed your mind?”

  “No, I… I’m just… I’m sorry.” All my emotions drain from my head to my heart and down to the soles of my feet, leaving an aching emptiness in their wake. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear it.” Even to me, my voice sounds weak and unconvinced. “I told you I wanted to be a family with you, and I do.”

  Evie plants her fists on her hips. “She’s gone, Will. We’ll never be a family until you realize that. The little girl from the farm, the one you glued yourself to, she’s dead. It may be her body walking around out there, but that’s not Mira. Do you hear me?” Fire flashes in her eyes. “Mira is dead, and the person living in her body is a five hundred year old man.”

  I try to paste a sincere expression on my face, but I’m sure it falls horribly flat. “Nothing happened between Socrates and me, I swear it. Yeah, I’ve made some mistakes, but I’d never do that.” I shudder, just thinking about those who choose to become consorts to Firsts, only to be thrown aside or given away whenever it’s convenient. “You’ve got to believe me.”

  “Why should I?” Venom drips from every word. “I saw you with Mira, and I’ve seen how you hang off Socrates’s every word. If you think I’m just going to ignore that, you’re more a fool than I thought.”

  I turn and stomp to the door, so frustrated that I have to leave before I say something I’ll regret. Besides, who is Evie to talk? She never pretended that we were exclusive and that I was anything more than someone to fill a lonely night. It really ruined her plans when she got pregnant.

  “Running away again?” Evie’s taunt follows me as I wrench the door open. I turn around just to see her press a finger to her chin. “Hmmm. I wonder what it’s going to be this time: running off to your First or joining your Lifer friends.”

  I turn around slowly. “What did you say?”

  A smug, triumphant grin crosses her face. “You heard me. You think you’re so secretive, but you’re not. Everyone knows you’re one of them.”

  “Yeah? Then why haven’t I been arrested yet?”

  She flips her hair over her shoulder, as though my snide tone doesn’t bother her. “You’re Socrates’s pet, and for some reason George Eliot likes you, too.”

  I grab her shoulders, shaking her a little bit to emphasize how dangerous this could be for her. “You shouldn’t be involved in this. It could get you killed.”

  She jerks herself from my grasp. “Of course I’m not one of them. I’m smarter than that. All I know is what I hear from the other servants.” She lifts one shoulder and then drops it, the nonchalant motion belied by the worry in her eyes.

  “What are they saying?”

  “I don’t know, exactly.” She hesitates and I can see her choosing her words carefully. “Just that it’s bad.”

  “How bad?”

  Tears well up in her eyes. “I don’t know, but I do wish you’d stop being one of them. I’ve heard the man who’s in charge is really dangerous.” Evie grabs my arms with surprising strength. “What if you get killed?”

  I gently pry myself loose. “I won’t. I promise.” I open the door and step out into the empty hallway.

  Anger wars with frustration and worry on her face. “Our baby doesn’t deserve to grow up without a father. No matter how you feel about me, our child deserves better.” She grabs the door from my hand and slams it shut. Somehow, that echoes with even more finality than her words.

  I wander through the corridors until I find myself in front of one of the lesser-used service elevators, the same one I’d used to meet that strange man when I’d been drugged. Without thinking, I scan myself in and hit the recall button to take me to the elevator’s last destination. As the machine hums to life, I wonder if I’ll end up in the same place I was before, with that strange man who hates Socrates as much as I do. Maybe he can give me some suggestions.

  The elevator goes for a long time, far longer than it did the last time I used it, and for something that was designed after the Immigration War to make travel between the buildings both safe and practical, that says a lot. Finally it dings, and announces that I’ve reached the Postal Museum. Huh. Why did they build an elevator to this place? It’s been abandoned since before the War. My hand hovers over the panel, about to push some buttons to return to the National History Museum, or the Castle, or anywhere else, really. But I don’t. I let the door open.

  The service elevator deposited me in a small hallway off the main lobby. In here, there are no automatic lights, and with a couple centuries worth of dust and debris obscuring the windows, I’m nearly blind. I press a button on the side of my com unit and a beam of light pierces the shadows.

  As I follow the small hallway into the lobby, the small hairs on the back of my neck rise. I’m alone here, I know it, but I don’t feel like it. To my left, I see what appears to be a wheeled coach of some sort pulled by horses. I shine my light on the words printed on the side: White River Junction Woodstock. A smaller plaque in front explains that coaches like this were used to deliver mail. If they only had teleportation pods, they never would have had to face some of the dangers they did. I can’t imagine living in a world like that.

  I spend a few minutes exploring the rest of the lobby. It’s only when my light hits the same hallway that I first came down in that my gaze is drawn to the ground. Instead of one set of footprints disturbing the dusty floor, I see several different sized trails, all leading down a cordoned off hallway to an adjoining exhibit. The prints look fresh. I turn down my light, and follow them.

  Long Shot

  Mira

  After Eliot and I finish talking, we decide to head back to the banquet hall. When her com unit alerts her to an important phone call from a first named Kennedy, she falls behind.

  “I’ll be right there,” she says, waving me off through the door.

  “Okay, but I—” I’m too late; the door shuts before I can offer to wait. Frustrated, I decide that I’ll go anyway.

  As I get to my destination,
I hear a voice call out. “Socrates!”

  I crane my head around, but don’t see anyone searching for me among the tricking stream of people heading to and from the hall.

  “Over here, old chap!”

  I turn in the direction of the voice. A middle-aged man with rich, tanned skin and a wide, bright smile grins at me as he quickly strides over. “That was some speech you gave.” He twirls the tip of his mustache into a point. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”

  I offer him a fleeting nod. “That was the point.” I search my mind, but I can’t remember his name.

  The man wiggles his eyebrows up and down. “I bet you didn’t expect that response from those other old geezers, did you?”

  I shudder. “No, they’ve…” I fish for the right words. Something Socrates would say. “They’ve always reminded me of sheep more than people, unable to make up their own minds without the shepherd present.” I shrug, but I can still hear their taunts. “It doesn’t matter; people will vote how they will.”

  “I heard it’s going to be close.”

  I chuckle. “They say that every time.”

  As our voices trail off, a calculating, considering gleam enters the stranger’s eyes. As he trails his gaze down my body, I cross my arms over my chest and take a step back. “For as long as I’ve known you, I never thought you’d pick a teenage girl as your Second.”

  I gesture at myself in an attempt at levity. “It’s not the gender that matters, you know that. It’s the soul inside that counts.”

  The man chuckles. “Yes, and I’m sure you don’t pay attention at all to the exterior do you, old man?”