Imposter Read Online Free PDF Page A

come in and formally assess you so you can leave tomorrow.”
    My blood turns cold. Did I read those books well enough? Did I pay attention? How can I possibly pass their test when I’m not Socrates?
    Eliot reaches over and squeezes my hand.
    “Of course. I’m ready whenever you are.”
    “Perfect. We’ll be down shortly.”
    After the screen flashes off, I turn to Eliot. I open my mouth to speak, but she shakes her head, probably afraid I’ll say something stupid and give myself away. “Don’t worry; it’ll be as easy as pie.”
    Right. I chew on my lip and try to slow my breathing.
    “All they’re going to do is ask you some questions about your past lives and memories. It’s not a big deal, I promise. They know you still might be a bit groggy, so don’t worry if you can’t get all the questions right. Just do your best. They’re trying to avoid another Carroll incident.”
    “Carroll incident?”
    “Of course. Don’t you remember?”
    By her tone, I get the feeling I should. “No.”
    Dr. Harding knocks politely and then enters the room with an orderly flanking each side. “I’m sorry to impose on your time.” She has a brisk, no-nonsense nature about her that doesn’t exactly make me feel more comfortable. “But I know you’d like to leave promptly tomorrow, so if we can get started now, my staff will have time to file our reports before your release.”
    I shiver. Eliot notices and puts her hand on my knee. If I don’t pass, then what?
    “If you’ll excuse us, George Eliot.” Dr. Harding inclines her head toward the door.
    “Of course.” Ellie stands up, gives me one last reassuring smile, and leaves, closing the door softly behind her.
    I fold my hands in my lap. The doctor takes Eliot’s seat and pulls a thin electronic pad out of her pocket, just like the one my former teacher, Edward Flannigan, had. I close my eyes, see my old teacher as he stands up for his beliefs and dies for them. If he can do this, so can I.
    She taps it, and words appear to glow on the screen. The two orderlies stand at attention on either side of the door, their faces unreadable.
    “Are you ready, sir?”
    “Yes.” You can do this. Socrates chose you for a reason, no matter what the end result was.
    “Okay, first question. What was your son’s name in your first life?”
    I wrack my brain; I should know this. In my head, I can hear Socrates telling me about his son, but I just can’t remember the boy’s name. After a few seconds, it floats to the front of my consciousness. “Adam.” I snap my fingers. “That’s it.”
    She taps on her screen. “Thank you. Now, what is the name of the military engagement you helped found that ended in disaster for over half the country?”
    Military engagement? Is that a fancy way of saying war? Panic fills me. Socrates never told me any of this. What am I supposed to say? What war?
    With my silence, Dr. Harding focuses her gaze on me. “Is there a problem?”
    I gulp. “No, of course not. That would be the Immigration War.”
    She taps something on the screen. “Do you remember the boy’s name that your Second was destined to marry?”
    How would Socrates know this? Is she trying to throw me off to see if I’m Mira and not Socrates? It must be a trick. “No, of course not.” I try to sound dismissive. “Why would it matter? The girl was my Second, not my child. As soon as I chose her, that part of her life ended.”
    “Thank you, sir. What is your dog’s name?”
    Oh, that one is easy. “Ben.”
    “When did you meet George Eliot?”
    A fine sheen of sweat dampens my palms. Another one I don’t know. I attempt a smile. “I honestly don’t remember. It seems like we’ve been together forever.”
    She purses her lips and taps on her screen again. “What is your Second’s little brother’s name?”
    I stiffen my spine and fold my hands in my lap. Why does she keep asking questions about Mira’s life? Is she trying to slip me up and get me to make a