IMPOSTOR

2

Stef and Erick are already standing around the center table in the cafeteria when Livia and I get there. It makes sense; Erick's the one who called the meeting, and he and Stef are always together. For a moment, I have to wonder if the impostor is one of them. If it is, would the other be in on it? Or would they, too, be fooled? I shake the thought away as the rest of my crew arrives and takes their spots around the table.

While Erick rambles, I look around. Mika is fidgeting, tapping their bright red fingers on the table incessantly. Vel looks unconcerned, blatantly looking at her reflection in a handheld mirror she doesn't bother to hide. I make eye contact with Stef, but he averts his gaze. I wonder if he hates me. I wonder if he's the impostor. I wish I could still ask him.

"I say we put it up to a vote," says Erick firmly, jarring me out of my nostalgia.

"A vote?" I echo.

"We can't live like this, Dee," he says frantically. "We need to know."

"Okay," I concede, "a vote. Are there any objections?"

There aren't, of course, just blank stares. The real impostor would be a fool to object, and those of us with nothing to hide have nothing to fear. The fact that I do have my secrets doesn't help. I can only hope they don't mistake my guilt or my sneaking around for something worse than what it is.

"Fine," I continue. I open the front pocket of my uniform jumpsuit and pull out a pad of papers, handing a sheet around to everyone. "Write down who you think the impostor is."

As they scribble down names, I glance around again. None are especially suspicious. Mika and Erick are fidgeting, but that's just their nerves. The both of them always get this anxious. Vel is vain and apathetic, which is nothing out of the ordinary for her. It wouldn't be Livia, of course, nor Stef, and even if it were I'd rather not risk them see me vote for them and hate me for it, especially if the others won't be voting the same. Excluding myself, that leaves four others, the four I know least. Rubin has always seemed off to me, following me around and lingering places he has no need to be in. Chick seems innocent, I suppose, if not a little spaced out at times. Gena is always tinkering around in electrical, and Finn steers and directs our course in navigation. I glance between the four before finally writing down Rubin's name in small, tight letters.

I can only hope the rest of my crew shares my suspicions.