“Let me get this straight,” I say, still feeling like I’m in a dream. This can’t be real. “Both of you,” I indicate Gravelle and Seymour, “for different but complementary reasons, set out to replace all these people permanently with Duplicates. Oliver, my father, Bianca Huxley. Jane. Jaeger. You,” I turn to face Gravelle, “for your own vindictive agenda. So you could watch the people who mistreated you suffer and see them beg for their lives back. And you,” I turn to Seymour, “because you have some twisted authoritarian vision of replacing all of humanity with ‘newer models’ like software?”

“Visionaries have to act on humanity’s behalf.” Seymour shrugs. “It’s never simple, but that is the only path to progress.” I’m so enraged by Seymour’s justification of his crimes, I could slap him. Of course, I don’t, and I won’t, not yet. We won’t strike until it’s the exact right moment.

“So what about the originals, then? They live here, indefinitely? Doomed to grow old, watching their lives unfold with imposters as the major players? Is that their life sentence, that live feed of their lives being hijacked?”

“My apologies, Eden. I can see I left out the most crucial detail of all,” Seymour answers. “They won’t live here indefinitely. That would cost us far too many resources. And what would be the point? The originals are entirely expendable. Once we confirm that we’ve permanently downloaded every last one of their thoughts, memories, and emotions, via their implants, we’ll store that information securely on our server. And then, after they’re no longer needed, we’ll dispose of them.”

I feel sick, like the floor beneath me is shifting. He wants to kill them all.

“Seal the perimeters,” I hear Seymour instructing his guards on a comm device. “No one leaves.” Panic rises in my chest. This is even worse than we thought. They’re going to trap us in here. In moments, this entire compound will become our cage.

“Go,” I say to Ollie, who hoists my father on his back and begins carrying him out. “Do whatever you have to do. Save my dad. Please.” Ollie isn’t nearly as strong as the Similars, and he’s been here, compromised and wasting away in that pen, for the last three months. But adrenaline must be kicking in, because he’s managing, and I’m grateful.