“Why?”

“What if he decides to rob a bank? What if he kills someone?”

“He won’t. We can see to that with Meld, as well. He won’t have the inclination to do anything like that, or the capacity. We’ll take care of it.”

“What if he starts a family?” Jeremiah asked. “What if he has kids?” The idea, which had only just entered his mind, was positively frightening to him. Those would be his children, he realized. His own flesh and blood, essentially. Children who shouldn’t be born.

Charles Scott dismissed the issue with a shake of his head.

“Sterilization,” he said, “is a straightforward procedure.”

“And what about me?” Jeremiah asked after a moment. “I’m just supposed to slip back into my old life with $10 million in my pocket? How do I explain that to my family?”

“You do like to dwell on the mundane, don’t you? The winning lottery ticket has already been printed. Calm down, Mr. Adams.”

Before Jeremiah could protest that he’d never purchased a lottery ticket in his life, Brent came in through the front door and Scott stood up to face him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Scott,” Brent said. “I wasn’t aware you’d be here. I can come back.”

“No need, Mr. Higgins,” Scott told him. “We’re done here. You have work to do.”

As he moved toward the door to leave, though, Charles Scott’s half-filled coffee cup dropped from his hand as though the man had simply let it go without a second thought. Coffee saturated the carpet, a dark spot expanding rapidly, and all three of them went momentarily still in sudden surprise.

It was Brent who moved first, rushing over and picking up the toppled cup, while Jeremiah went to the kitchen to grab a roll of paper towels. Charles Scott, after a noticeable hesitation, bent down and began mopping at the spill with his own handkerchief.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Adams,” he said. The sincerity of the words sounded foreign coming from him. Scott wasn’t prone to apologies. Jeremiah thought he seemed unnecessarily rattled over the accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jeremiah told him, pressing a thick wad of towels into the rug. “It’s not my carpet.”

Scott stood up and folded his soiled handkerchief into his fist. “I’m sure I don’t know how that happened,” he said. “I’ll send someone to clean it right away.”

His composure somewhat restored, Scott turned on his heels and left the room in a hurry, the front door closing behind him.

Brent looked down at Jeremiah and smiled. “That was strange,” he said. “You think I make him nervous?”

“You aren’t nearly as threatening as you think you are,” Jeremiah said.

A half hour later, they were settled in front of the monitor watching the clone’s uneventful morning at ViMed. Later, when Jeremiah returned from a late-afternoon session with Natalie Young, all evidence of the mishap had been erased from the carpet.

Chapter 9

Day 80

Whether it was because of Natalie’s advice, the simmering worry inside him or just out of sheer boredom, Jeremiah didn’t know, but late on a Friday afternoon a few weeks later, he found himself gleefully blasting virtual enemy soldiers into fiery bits in a game of Infinite Frontiers with Brent. He had to admit, there was a certain appeal to it. Teeth gritted behind his headset, he became slowly more comfortable with the intricate gestures and eye movements Brent had shown him to get his aim right. If Parker could see him now, he thought, he’d never believe it. And he was having fun.