“Jeremiah,” she said as calmly as always, “I am not saying you’re wrong to feel this way. I am simply trying to help you to understand your feelings. That way I can help you to deal with them.”
“I am dealing just fine on my own.”
Even as he said the words, he knew it wasn’t true. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, and lately, there were more nights like that. Twice, in fact, Brent had had to come right into his bedroom and pull him out of bed for scheduled monitor time—and on one of those occasions, it was early afternoon. It seemed he was bothered by something else after every viewing. When he wasn’t obsessing about whether the clone would remember to renew his car registration on time, he was questioning his apparent lack of preparation for an important meeting at work. He went to bed at night with his mind reeling over stupid, trivial things that never would have kept him awake before. Had the clone remembered to double-check the photo credits for the newsletter? Did he give Louie his flea medicine? Did he lock the garage door? Was it his turn or Diana’s to get Parker to his guitar lesson on Monday night? Was he keeping up with the maintenance schedule on the new car? If he missed a single oil change, the warranty might lapse. And Jesus, he thought, was he taking it to the dealer? They’d rob him blind. He didn’t trust his double to take care of things. This, coupled with the fact that Diana now seemed even more obvious about her transgressions—even at the expense of the family—had him stressed. It was starting to make a dark appearance on his face. He could see it every time he looked in the mirror.
“I don’t know,” he told Natalie Young. “Maybe I’m not coping as well as I should be. But it isn’t easy. I feel trapped. Maybe you’re right, I feel like I don’t have any control. It’s possible they chose the wrong person for this.”
“I don’t think Dr. Scott makes mistakes like that,” she said. “He must have seen something in you that made you the right person for this.”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
It was a question he still grappled with. Why the hell was he here? The entire affair had been so rushed after the first contact, everything happening so quickly, that he’d never had a chance to stop and question why he’d been chosen. Scott had said only that they knew Jeremiah would be loyal to the company, and therefore, presumably, to the experiment. But, in fact, Jeremiah held no great love for ViMed. If he had his way, he’d go back to newspapers in a heartbeat—get back to writing something that actually mattered, something that could make a difference. There was no denying, his heart was still back there. And as he considered this, he remembered what Scott had said to him at their very first meeting: “You did what was expected of you. You toed the line, Mr. Adams.” In that moment, Jeremiah felt suddenly very small.
“Maybe they just like me or something,” he told Natalie Young.
“You are a likable person,” she said with a tight, unconvincing smile.
Jeremiah said nothing and shifted his weight in the chair and looked away from her. This was getting him nowhere. He was through talking. In typical fashion, though, she decided differently and pushed on.
“Jeremiah,” she said quietly, “I’d like to try an exercise with you. I’d like you to tell me one thing—one decision, one choice you made, anything—that you’ve done here that you might not have done before. It can be anything. It doesn’t matter how small.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for example, did you set an alarm clock this morning to get up?”
“No, I didn’t need to be up early today. The viewing didn’t start until after eleven.”
“Really?” she asked in mock surprise. “No alarm clock on a weekday morning? Do you think your clone set his alarm this morning?”
“Okay, yeah, I see what you mean,” he said. “But those things don’t matter. Of course I’m doing things differently here. This is a different place, a totally separate situation. I’m not going to get up early every day and dress in a suit and tie just to hang out with Brent and basically watch TV.”
“Hang out with Brent?” she asked, again with a look of exaggerated awe. “But he’s your coworker, isn’t he? And half your age. He doesn’t seem like someone you’d even want to hang out with.”
“Well, I don’t have much choice there, do I? Look, I see what you’re trying to do, but none of this really matters, Natalie. These are things I have no control over. It’s not really up to me.”
“I think you have more control than you realize, Jeremiah,” she said. “You make your own decisions on a daily basis. And I’d wager a lot of those are very different from the decisions you’d make at home. Different from the decisions your clone is making.”
“What, like I can take a shower whenever I want to?”
“Or not, if you decide. What else is up to you?”
“I suppose the coffee’s better here. I don’t have to drink that light roast stuff Diana likes.”
“And do you suppose the clone is drinking light roast coffee?”
“Oh, I’m absolutely certain of it. Diana is very picky about her coffee.”
“So, you see, you do have some control over your own life. You make your own choices, your own decisions here,” she told him. “I’d like you to make a list, keep track of these sort of things for the next few days. I think it might help.”
Jeremiah nodded and Natalie stood up, her usual indication that it was time to escort him back down the hall to his apartment.
Once
