“An exercise wheel. You equip all your lab rats like this?”

“You are not a lab rat, Mr. Adams. But surely you can appreciate the importance of maintaining your current physical condition. We can’t have you returning home suddenly twenty pounds heavier than your clone. That might raise some eyebrows. It is imperative that you and your double remain exactly that—doubles.”

“How did you get it to grow so fast? I mean, this thing is my age. You only took the cells a week ago.”

“With a bit of tweaking,” Scott said, “it appears the neuroendocrine hypothesis was essentially sound.”

Jeremiah shook his head.

“We extracted secretions from your own pituitary gland,” Scott explained. “That compound contains human growth hormone, which we then genetically hyperstimulate, at a systemic level, during cell division. The process allows us to increase the maturation rate and create a fully grown replica in about forty-eight hours.”

“You went from a couple of cells to a forty-seven-year-old human in forty-eight hours?”

“Science, Mr. Adams, is a wonderful thing. But to ensure our efforts remain intact, you will be put on a strict regimen of exercise. Dr. Pike will monitor everything with periodic visits.”

“It looks like you’ve thought of everything.”

“We want you to be comfortable here. This is your home, not a cage.”

Jeremiah noted the total lack of windows and the fact that the front door didn’t even have a doorknob.

“I’d say that depends on your vantage point,” he said.

“Seclusion is paramount to this project, Mr. Adams. We simply cannot risk any contact with the outside world.”

“Well, at least there’s the internet, I suppose. I assume the Wi-Fi is state-of-the-art down here.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Scott said. “You’ll have full access to the web. But I’m afraid there is no outgoing signal. No email or text. And no camera. You understand. You will not be able to communicate with anyone other than our immediate team.”

“Then what’s with that thing?” Jeremiah nodded toward an old-fashioned landline telephone on the desk in the corner.

“That line will connect you with an administrative assistant on the project,” Scott told him. “You can use it to make any requests for specific foods, personal necessities and so forth. Or in the case of an emergency, of course. But we don’t foresee anything like that. You will be well looked after during your time here.”

To Jeremiah’s ears, Scott’s words sounded more like warning than solace.

“Looked after? Do you mean you’ll be watching me, Dr. Scott? Will I be monitored in here?”

“Monitored, yes, but we won’t be spying on you,” Scott said. His expression reflected bewildered affront. “Besides, we have no need for anything like that. Brent Higgins will be here with you for a good part of every day, and he reports to me. You’ll also have regular psychological sessions with Dr. Young throughout the process. We’ll be keeping track of your exercise, food intake, sleep patterns, that sort of thing—but we have no need to do anything quite so covert. We’re scientists, not secret agents. You don’t need to be suspicious.”