“And that bothers you, Jeremiah?”

“Wouldn’t it bother you?”

“Not if that were the very central idea of what we’re doing here. I’d consider it a success. Don’t you think these similarities point to success?”

“Well, yeah. It does. But sometimes I almost wish it wasn’t so successful, you know?”

“Can you elaborate?” she pushed.

“I keep wishing he’d slip up or something. I wish I’d see him do one thing—just one thing—that’s not exactly the same thing I think he’s going to do. I wish someone would realize that it’s not me out there.”

“You told me before that you were glad your family wouldn’t miss you. You said that’s what made this easier for you. Has that changed?”

“No,” he said, “that’s not what I meant. I’m glad they don’t know. I guess I just keep waiting for someone to notice something. I mean, you’d think at least Diana would notice something! We’ve been married a long time. You’d think she’d realize it isn’t her husband sleeping next to her in the bed. But she doesn’t even notice it.”

“Is there something that you think your wife ought to notice? Be honest, Jeremiah. Be objective. This is very important to the experiment. This is crucial. Are there any noticeable differences between you and your clone? Is there something you think Diana should pick up on?” Something in her face alarmed him instantly. There was a certain intensity in her eyes that felt almost like a warning to him. What would Charles Scott actually do if someone started to catch on, if he thought his funding was at stake?

“No,” he said finally. “I don’t think there are any differences between me and the clone. I think the whole thing is a raging triumph. Someone ought to break out the champagne.”

She looked at him for a long moment and pursed her lips in that way she did whenever he attempted sarcasm.

“I might think you’d be relieved that your clone is doing such a good job of things for you. He’s carrying out everything in your life just as you, yourself, would do.”

“Yeah. It’s all good.” Inside, Jeremiah was silently celebrating the fact that at least Louie wasn’t fooled. It made him feel marginally better to know that someone out there knew he’d been replaced. But he said nothing of this to Dr. Young.

Sensing he was done talking for the day, she reluctantly closed her laptop. She escorted him back to his apartment, where Brent was already sitting on the couch engrossed in some war zone computer game. He maneuvered the controller wildly with both hands and wore a headset that partially covered his eyes and ears. On the wall monitor was an eight-foot-tall, high-definition image of an animated soldier, deftly sidestepping grenades and gunfire and blasting enemy squadrons. Jeremiah could hear a muted racket coming through Brent’s headset and he felt the vibrations through his shoes.

“Working hard, I see.” Jeremiah grabbed a bag of potato chips from the kitchen and then took a seat next to him on the couch. “What’s this, then?”