The Similars (The Similars #1)(91)

“But…” Before Jane can say more, Booker grabs her by the arm, pulling her down into the seat next to him. “This is wrong,” she murmurs.

“Jane doesn’t know anything,” Johnny reiterates. “She had nothing to do with what happened. I’m ready for my punishment now.”

“So be it,” Ransom says, and I can tell he isn’t happy about this outcome.

There’s a hush in the room. My whole body tenses. I’m being held captive by the very man—then a teen boy—who’s awaiting his fate. How will the outcome of this memory influence mine?

“John Underwood,” Fleischer announces, “you committed four Darkwood infractions: breaking curfew, trespassing, breaking and entering, and interfering with a laboratory experiment. Though the administration has chosen not to press criminal charges, that does not lessen the serious nature of these crimes. We have no choice but to insist upon your immediate, and final, expulsion.”

I hear weeping. Jane is hunched over, her head in her hands, sobbing. Booker puts a hand on her back, consoling her. I can’t see Albert.

I only get one last glimpse of Johnny Underwood’s face before the memory cuts out. He is devastated.





Reality


The next thing I know, I’m in an armchair in a vast room with skinny glass windows that afford an expansive view beyond the compound—the rolling green down to the blue waters that meet the azure sky.

Across the room from me, Levi is probably ten or fifteen feet away. I make a move to go to him, but apparently whatever force field there was on my bed is at work here too. I slam back in my seat.

“You’re okay,” I choke out as I meet Levi’s eyes. I’m surprised by how emotional I sound.

“So are you,” Levi points out defensively.

“Wow, even being locked up by a tyrant hasn’t stripped you of your need to argue.”

Levi smiles. “Never.”

I let out a little laugh. It feels good to joke. I was beginning to think I might never see Levi, or leave that room, again.

I spot two guards standing by the door, a reminder that we aren’t alone. “Did Gravelle make you watch them too?” I ask Levi.

“The memories? Naturally,” Levi says.

“He’s an outsider.” I’m anxious to fill Levi in on what I learned. “Gravelle—he was an outsider his entire life. At Darkwood, he hoped he’d find a place to fit in. But then they betrayed him.” I recount what I saw—the discipline hearing, the expulsion.

“What I saw was later, then,” Levi says. “Gravelle graduated from a local high school. Never made it to Harvard like he wanted, but he married Jane. It was the one dream he couldn’t let die. Jane stayed true to him, even when everyone else cast him off as a liar and a cheat. But then his personal life fell apart.”

I listen as Levi fills me in on the rest of Gravelle’s life story. How he made billions investing in an early version of the virtual reality technology he used to show us his memories.

“He and Jane were happy,” Levi explains, “for a time. But Underwood was cold, cynical. Perhaps he never felt loved enough, so he sabotaged the one good relationship in his life. I don’t know. Whatever the reason, Jane began to long for someone who didn’t take her for granted. Someone like Booker.

“When they had trouble conceiving a child, they sought fertility treatments, which eventually worked. But Underwood was already losing her. They grew further apart until she did seek out Booker. He had never stopped loving her.

“Jane and Underwood divorced when Oliver was two. Underwood had become hardened, angry even. She had seen outbursts of this anger; he’d even directed it at Oliver. She was worried about her son’s safety, so she petitioned for full custody, and she won. Later on, after Underwood faked his own death, he watched as Booker Ward legally adopted his son. He was never the same again.”

“How did he do it? Fake his death like that?”

“I don’t know all the details—that memory was hazier than the others. The car accident wasn’t planned. He was driving too fast, too recklessly. His face was nearly destroyed by the fire. That’s when he decided to reinvent himself. To change his name from John Underwood to Augustus Gravelle and make everyone believe that Underwood had died.”

I’m about to ask a thousand questions when Gravelle’s voice booms through a sound system.

“It’s remarkable technology, isn’t it?” says Gravelle. “Amazing how easily I could introduce you to my thoughts, my memories, my world?”

I respond icily. “If that’s your most advanced virtual reality simulation, I wasn’t all that impressed.” Levi’s eyes widen, but before he can jump in to apologize for my impertinence, Gravelle walks into the room.

“Oh dear, Emmaline,” Gravelle shakes his head, leaning on his cane. “I’m afraid I’ve given you the wrong impression. That is not my most advanced technology. No, no. We’ve improved the system light-years since we created the demo you saw. That was the first iteration, my dear. But since you asked…” He punches a code into a virtual panel. “Please. Take the latest model for a spin.”

A guard strides toward me holding a syringe, and I prepare myself for the inevitable haze brought on by the injective.