Thomas pulled his hands into his lap, pretended to cough. He knew that he had to be careful. He could feel it, lurking like a scarcely suppressed alter-ego behind his words, his thoughts—the need to prove himself to this beautiful woman. But there was more to be wary of—far, far more. People chronically attributed emotions generated by their circumstances to the people they happened to find themselves with. Couples meeting for the first time on high suspension bridges reliably ranked their opposites as more exciting and attractive than couples meeting for the first time on a footpath. And this situation with Neil was nothing if not precarious.

'I'd also suppose he was suffering from some kind of extreme depersonalization disorder, either something—'

'What do you mean?' Samantha asked.

Thomas stared, tried to will away the buzz of excitement that seemed to hover around her. There was something about Samantha Logan. Klutzy and ambitious. Crude-talking and intelligent. Earnest and urbane. He tried to blink the shine from his eyes, to remind himself of the madness that encircled him. But there she was, front and center, humming with promise and focused entirely on him.

But then there was what Neil would say—and what Thomas-the-professor knew. Thanks to a potent blend of hardwiring and socialization, men were far more likely to read sexual cues where none were to be found. They constantly confused female attention for sexual interest. The sad truth was that false positives paid better reproductive dividends. Assuming that every woman wanted to jump your bones was just another way of covering your odds at the evolutionary craps table.

'I don't think,' Thomas finally said, 'Neil sees himself as a person anymore.'

Samantha crinkled her nose in disbelief. 'Not a person? Then what does he see himself as?'

'A brain. A brain among brains.'

'I'm having difficulty wrapping my head around this one.'

'I'm a philosopher, remember? It's all bullshit.'

'It's gotta be.'

Thomas looked down to his thumbs. 'If you think of a way out, be sure and let me know. I mean, I love my kids. I really love them. I don't think I knew what love meant until Ripley was born. And Frankie was double trouble. That simply has to mean something, doesn't it?'

Or is it just another lie? Like my marriage.

Samantha stared at him.

'What's wrong?' Thomas asked.

'Ah, nothing. It just didn't hit me until now.'

'What didn't hit you?'

'When you were going through the Argument and all that… I guess I just assumed there had to be some kind of catch. Some kind of trapdoor you weren't letting me in on. But there isn't, is there? I mean when you asked for… for a way out a couple of seconds ago, you really were asking, weren't you?'

'I suppose I was.'

Long silence. 'So what if he's right, Tom?'

'Neil?'