I show my friends the buzz from Jane. Maude tells them, her voice flat, about the time stamp on my dad’s wrist.
As she’s talking, I’m struck by a memory, from yesterday. Tessa in those platform wedges. Those were the wedges her Duplicate wore, during that September weekend when the first three Duplicates crashed the masquerade ball. It hits me like a ton of bricks. That wasn’t Tessa getting out of that limo. It was her Duplicate.
With increasing dread closing in on me, I wonder: How many have been “installed”? How many replaced?
Ollie… My father. Jane. Tessa.
“I think it’s everyone,” I whisper.
“What are you saying, Emma?” Pru asks, tears encroaching in her eyes.
“I’m saying that I think Gravelle’s plan was, is, to replace all our DNA parents. The de Leons, the Choates, Booker, Frederica and Tessa Leroy, my dad, and now Jane.” I feel utterly bereft. This was all happening right under our noses.
“But how would that even work?” Jago asks, pacing the snow-covered ground. “Did your dad seem like himself?”
“Very much so,” I answer, breathless.
“How would Gravelle have downloaded your father’s memories and thoughts and personality into this Duplicate? It doesn’t make sense. Ollie was on Castor Island long enough for Gravelle to obtain all his thoughts, but—”
“An implant,” Maude cuts in. “A tiny device, inserted near the base of the brain. One that can send memories to a host body remotely. It could be implanted while a person is sleeping. They’d never know.”
I’m reeling as I try to sort this out in my mind.
I’m also despairing. “Jane’s being kidnapped right this minute, and there’s nothing we can do about it?” I feel myself start to crumble under the weight of what we’ve discovered.
Levi must sense me faltering, because he reaches out a hand to steady me.
“I should have realized. I should have known,” I tell him, meeting his eyes. “He replaced Ollie over Christmas break. Probably a lot of the others too. Not just my dad but Booker, Archer’s dads…”
“What about Bianca?” Pru asks quietly. “And my dad? They’re here on campus for Dark Weekend. I’m going to tell my father, tonight,” she says, interrupting my downward spiral. “He has to know. If he gets the Quarry on board, they can protect him. And her.”
“Bianca’s a presidential candidate,” I say, stating the obvious. “If she’s replaced…”
None of us want to consider that possibility. It’s too huge, too terrible, to consider the kind of power and influence her Duplicate could wield.
“You can’t tell Jaeger until you’ve checked his wrist. Bianca’s too,” I say. “We may already be too late.”
Gone are my concerns about telling Jane about Ollie. This is so much bigger than just Ollie now. This is massive, and the potential consequences are horrifying.
“We’ll do it together,” Maude tells Pru.
“And if we find a time stamp?” Pru asks, near tears.
No one answers. We all know what that would mean. And none of us want to face it.
Late that night, we convene in the Tower Room. Maude and Pru aren’t here yet, and we’re a silent crew, waiting to hear about the time stamps. Waiting to find out if Gravelle’s plan has gone off without a hitch.
Pru is breathless when she reaches us and opens the door. I leap to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest.
“No time stamps,” she says. “On Bianca or my dad. Gravelle hasn’t been able to replace them, not yet.”
I feel my breathing slow, and I’m utterly thankful. And yet, my father is still gone. Ollie too. And Jane. Even as I’m filled with relief over Bianca and Jaeger, I’m still reeling, walking on shaky ground.
“I told my dad everything,” Pru explains as Maude arrives at the doorway. “He’s already alerting the Quarry and will put safeguards in place, including extra security to ensure he and Bianca aren’t taken. Bianca has super high-level bodyguards, but Gravelle obviously thinks he can infiltrate them. My dad will make sure he doesn’t. The Quarry’s tailing her car all the way to the airport, standing by to intercept any kidnappers.”
I don’t even remember falling into bed, but I must have at some point, because when I wake up Sunday morning, bright light is streaming in through the windows, and everything comes crashing back to me.
The Duplicates. My father and Jane, replaced.
I feel a new sense of dread now that the adrenaline of yesterday has worn off. The thought of both Ollie and my father, held prisoner on Castor Island. Or worse…
We’re a solemn bunch the rest of the day. I feel like there’s been a death. Multiple losses. The absence of the real Jane, and Ollie, and my dad—it’s too much.
At dinner that night, Pru tries to offer me some comfort. “I know you’re worried, Emma.”
“Worried? I’m not worried. I’m terrified. My best friend’s being held or tortured or worse. So’s my dad. If Gravelle kills them, I’ll have…” I’m about to say no one, but I don’t, because it’s not entirely true. I’ll still have Levi. At least, I think I will. I’ll still have Pru and the other Similars. But the prospect of losing my dad and Ollie and Jane in one fell swoop, it’s unthinkable. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand,” I say to my friends. “I know you care about your DNA dads, Ansel. And Jago, you never wanted your DNA parents to be replaced. But this is Ollie we’re talking about. And my dad. I know your childhood was lonely, but you had each other. I only had them. And Jane, she’s the closest thing to a mother I’ll ever get. So if something happens to her—”
I can’t help it; I start crying. “I’m sorry,” I tell Pru. “You lost your mom. And she’s not coming back.” I don’t say that to be cruel, but to let her know that I acknowledge her loss—and that it’s cavernous.
“It was devastating,” she admits. “And it sucks worse than anything. But that’s why I won’t let you lose your family, Em. Not your dad. Or Ollie. We’ll find them.”
But I’m not comforted.
The Rally
February passes into March, and although Jaeger keeps assuring us that the Quarry is keeping him and Bianca safe, I worry. With every day that passes, I dread that I’ll never see Ollie or my dad or Jane again.
Duplicate Jane has arrived to assume her headmistress role. Of course, no one at Darkwood is even remotely aware she’s a stand-in clone. But we know, and now there’s no chance that I’ll confide in her about what’s happened to Ollie. I pray that wherever they’ve taken Jane, whether it’s Castor Island or some other remote location, she’s with her son now. I feel guilty; if I’d told her about Ollie, maybe she could have saved herself. But I know it’s not fair to blame myself. How could I have known that Jane was Gravelle’s next target?
It was bad enough coexisting with Ollie’s Duplicate, but now the sight of Jane’s copy striding around the school, wearing Jane’s clothes and mingling with students, guts me with equal measure. We wonder who we could reasonably go to for help. The Darkwood board? But what if they didn’t believe us? Or worse, what if they’re in Gravelle’s pocket? It’s not lost on any of us that, except for Jaeger, the adults we can usually count on, like my dad and Jane, are the very people we can no longer trust, because they aren’t themselves.
In my head, I make desperate plans to leave school and look for them myself. I know it’s a reckless, stupid idea, one that could get me killed. But I’ll crack if I consider the reality that my hands really are tied. That I have no out, no way to help my loved ones. So I let myself imagine a heroic rescue. It’s the only thing that allows me to close my eyes at night and get any rest.
The only consolation in any of this is that Bianca and Jaeger haven’t been replaced yet, and we discovered Gravelle’s master plan in time to keep them safe. Still, we know Gravelle is nothing if not persistent. I believe in my gut he has not
given up on his plans to kidnap them. I wish I knew how, and when.
One early March morning, I arrive in the dining hall to new flyers being passed around to the student body. They advertise the Darkwood Academy Human Rights Club, and I’m fooled, at first, into thinking someone’s actually started a civil rights organization on campus. Then I see Harlowe, flanked by a couple of first years, Ivy, and Graham. Harlowe stands there watching as the others hand out leaflets. I get my hands on one.
Darkwood Academy Human Rights Club
Help Us Defend Humanity
Our Rights
Our Safety
Our Identities
Our Freedoms
First meeting: March 22, the gym, 7:00 p.m.
Spread the word…
It’s vague enough that you could miss it if you didn’t know what you were looking for. But it’s clearly DAAM, restructured and given a new name.
“Who approved this?” I ask the Similars, slamming the paper onto the table.
I get my answer when I notice Principal Fleischer walking over to where Harlowe and her friends are answering questions and recruiting members. Fleischer doesn’t seem angry at Harlowe. If anything, she looks pleased.
“Fleischer is their faculty sponsor,” I blurt, almost spitting out my soup. “I bet she signed off on this. After Jane dismantled DAAM, Harlowe must have bypassed her and gone straight to Fleischer for a sign-off. Probably when Jane was back in California.”
“So the ‘first meeting’ is basically another anti-clone rally,” Pru says in disgust. “Disguised as a pro-human rally. As if you’re not human.” She almost can’t say the word.
“Is that how they’re going to spin this? With rhetoric around us not being fully human because of our ‘super strength’?” Theodora asks. We shrug. It’s likely. But we won’t know unless we go to the rally and see for ourselves.
It’s a freezing Saturday when March 22 rolls around. We head to the gym, furious that this rally’s going unchecked but not daring to miss it. This rally goes against everything Darkwood stands for. I burn inside at the thought of Fleischer approving this.
When we arrive and take our seats in folding chairs, it looks like the entire student body is here. I guess everyone realized this wasn’t a club meeting, but something a lot more sensational. Kids chatter all around us. Some whisper that this new club is DAAM reinvented. Others seem clueless about what’s about to unfold.
“Welcome, students,” says a voice over the chitchat. It’s Harlowe, talking into a microphone. She addresses the crowd. “Thanks for joining us today for the first official meeting of the Darkwood Academy Human Rights Club, otherwise known as DAHRC.” She pronounces it like “Dark.” “Fitting name, don’t you think? Because of Darkwood… Never mind.” She laughs. “You all get it.” Kids laugh and lean in to listen, and I can’t help but feel sick. Harlowe hates the Similars. She hates us. I know how much she’s relishing this moment.
“First order of business: explaining the club’s mission statement and how it came to be. Some of you know that another group I was involved in, one I’ll refrain from naming, had its charter revoked, because of some unseemly politics on the part of the administration. DAHRC is a new club that focuses not on the folks who are trying to take away our freedoms, but on us, and preserving the liberties we hold dear. That’s why we’re here today. To champion our rights. Our freedoms. Our individuality. Our humanity.”
I scan the gym for Jane. I know it will be her Duplicate, not her. Still, if she possesses all of Jane’s thoughts and memories, she’d be equally disapproving of this rally. I don’t see her. Only Fleischer, who stands in the corner, arms crossed over her chest.
“Let’s just call this what it is,” a voice speaks up from the crowd. It’s Willa, from the Ten, standing up in the audience, her face scrawled with fury. “A hate group.” I’m impressed. Willa seems to have found her confidence, and her voice.
There is muttering in the audience, a stir of reactions. Some agreeing. Others not.
Harlowe stares Willa down for a moment, then laughs. “I’d appreciate if you’d wait for the question and answer portion of the event to make unsolicited comments. But sure, I’ll respond. This organization is the opposite of a ‘hate group.’ Like I said. We’re here to celebrate human freedoms. Like free speech. And the right to our own individuality.”
“At what cost?” Willa speaks up again, not backing down. “At whose expense? The Similars’? They graduate in two months. Let them finish their senior year in peace.”
There’s a rumbling in the audience. Apparently, a lot of kids agree.
Harlowe holds up a hand to silence the crowd. “I would love to do just that, Willa. But how can I, when they pose a threat to the very freedoms I just outlined?”
“How?” another student calls out, as someone else yells, “Lies! All lies!”
“I didn’t want to bring this up today…” Harlowe sighs, regaining everyone’s attention. “But you’ve left me no choice. I’m sure you all read my essay detailing the Similars’ super strength. What I didn’t know then, but I do now, is that the Similars’ abilities are more far-reaching than that. More inhuman, some might say.” Harlowe scans the crowd until her eyes land on me.
I feel my stomach churn. Is she going to call me out? Tell everyone about my mental abilities? What would they all think? I wouldn’t blame them for finding it strange—even fearing me—but they’d have to know, I’d never use it to hurt anyone.
I feel Pru grabbing my hand. I’m not sure if it’s a gesture of support, or a warning that I shouldn’t storm up there and give Harlowe a piece of my mind.
“You talk about the Similars like they aren’t human,” another kid says. I crane my neck to see that it’s a first year whose name I don’t know. “But they were created from the cells of a couple of humans, weren’t they? Or are you telling me that your good friend Madison Huxley isn’t human, either?”
The crowd erupts, either at the mention of Madison’s name or the fact that this kid has made a solid point. I see Jane slip into the back of the auditorium. I know it’s her Duplicate, and not really her, but still, her presence calms me.
Harlowe raises a hand, trying to silence the crowd. “If you let me speak, you’ll understand why I’m afraid the Similars’ abilities are so dangerous—and criminal. Some of them can do things no human should be able to. Like read the thoughts of another person.” Harlowe pauses for dramatic effect, letting that bombshell sink in for the crowd.
I hear a few laughs from the audience, and several gasps. Obviously, most of my classmates don’t know what to think of what Harlowe’s just said. I wouldn’t if I were them.
“That’s right,” Harlowe continues, milking every second of this. “I have reason to suspect that one of the Similars has a unique ability to tap into others’ thoughts.”
“That’s impossible!” a kid shouts from the crowd. Others react, agreeing with him.
“I assure you it’s not, though I wish it were,” Harlowe goes on. “This Similar was likely programmed from birth to be able to do this. And, as you know, that kind of genetic programming is illegal. It’s against the law to choose your baby’s hair and eye color. That’s called eugenics, and it’s dangerous. Just like it’s dangerous for people to possess the ability to invade our privacy. Think of the power she could wield—”
“Enough!” Willa shouts over the crowd. Kids seem to be rallying behind her, nodding and standing around her in an ever-growing clump of solidarity. “We don’t care what you have to say!”
“But—but this is my group,” Harlowe answers, finally looking flustered. “I’m the president!”
A second later, someone grabs the mic out of Harlowe’s hands. It’s Ivy, and she’s crying. In a rush, stringing all her words together almost incoherently, she blurts out into the microphone, “I want to say one thing, I’m so sorry, I nev
er meant to hurt anyone or cause anyone pain. I just wanted to fit in.”
“What are you saying?” Harlowe hisses at her.
“You’re a bully, and I quit,” Ivy whispers. She drops the mic and flees.
Without warning, Jane’s Duplicate approaches Harlowe and picks up the dropped mic. I hear her say something to Harlowe, who looks increasingly pissed—and maybe even on the verge of tears.
Duplicate Jane taps on the microphone. “Attention, students. I have an announcement to make, and I’m afraid it’s an unpleasant one.” She addresses the crowd solemnly. “Not ten minutes ago, I received concrete evidence that three of our junior members of the Ten—Harlowe Shaw, Graham Rosen, and Ivy Li—hacked into the stratum system at the beginning of the school year in order to fix their scores. As of this moment, they are officially no longer part of the Ten.”
A deafening silence fills the room. You could hear a pin drop. I look from Harlowe, who appears totally stricken, over to Ivy, who is openly bawling. In fact, it’s the only sound anyone’s making at all. I hear her hiccupped words between sobs, something to the effect of how she deserves this.
It only takes a moment for Harlowe’s shock to morph into outrage.
“Evidence?” Harlowe protests. “I demand to know what this evidence is!”
“I can assure you, it’s irrefutable,” Duplicate Jane answers her, her voice emotionless.
Harlowe’s eyes find me and the Similars in the crowd. “You did this,” she hisses at us. We just stare like she’s gone off the deep end, like we have no idea what she’s talking about. It’s the truth; we don’t. “Don’t you all see?” Harlowe addresses the crowd now, wildly grasping at straws. “The Similars set us up! They’ve been out to get us from day one! They hated us being in the Ten, and they’ve been planning something like this for months!”
The gym remains eerily quiet. Not a single person is stepping up to defend Harlowe.
“Harlowe, Ivy, Graham,” Jane says. “I would urge you to consider yourself lucky you aren’t being expelled from this school. Immediate removal from the Ten is nothing compared to what could have happened to you. Sophie and Willa, you were not involved in this incident and will retain your Ten status. But let this be a warning to you, to all of you. Being in the Ten is a privilege, not an inherent right.”
The Pretenders Page 23
