“And these devices actually get smarter the more you use them, Mr. Adams. They will learn your particular tastes and adjust accordingly—right down to the precise temperature you prefer your coffee.”

“Well, it looks like I won’t starve to death, anyway.”

“You may explore the rest of your accommodations at your leisure.” Scott glanced at his watch. “I believe the clone will be waking up soon and I’ve arranged for us to witness that. It’s quite a significant moment. Historic, I dare say.”

Jeremiah followed him back into the living room, where the video screen had just switched on of its own accord, and sat with him on one of the leather couches.

On the wall, Jeremiah watched as his double opened its eyes and attempted to ease itself up in its hospital bed. Dr. Pike was still there and was immediately at the clone’s side with a hand on its shoulder.

“Mr. Adams, I am Dr. Evans,” Pike said. “You’re in the hospital. There was a car accident, but you are not seriously injured.”

“A car accident?” Jeremiah had the impression of listening to a recording of his own voice—recognizable, but slightly unfamiliar in tone. It spoke almost in a whisper, as though waking from a long sleep, but it was undeniably Jeremiah’s own voice.

“Can you tell me what you remember?” Pike prodded.

“A car accident? Was anyone else hurt?” the clone asked, sudden alarm evident in his tone.

“No, there were no other injuries. What can you tell me? What do you recall?” It was obvious to Jeremiah that Pike was trying to ascertain the success of the Meld procedure.

“I don’t know,” the clone started. Pike helped it into a sitting position, propping a pillow behind its back.

“Try to remember, Mr. Adams. It will help us to determine if there is any head injury.”

“Head injury?” The clone put a tentative hand to its forehead. “All I remember is that I was at a stop sign. The one at the end of the exit ramp. I was hit on the passenger side. I think the air bag deployed. Did I hit the air bag?”

“I believe that’s what rendered you unconscious, yes. But we’ve already run scans. There is no interior bleeding and no outward signs of neurological damage. We’ll run a few more tests and keep you here for observation for a few hours just to be sure. But to test your short-term memory, could you state your full name and address for me?”

“Jeremiah Adams. Twenty-two Dorsey Road in Riverdale.” The answer was correct and fully automatic. “I should call my office,” the clone said, “and my wife.”

Scott switched the monitor off but continued to stare at the blank screen with something approaching amazement. The expression seemed unnatural on his face. When he turned back to Jeremiah, he was fully composed again, his features aligned in their usual studied neutrality.

“Seems to have worked,” he said. “The clone has remembered the accident exactly as it was recorded, and there is no sign of amnesia.”