Having a conversation with yourself was one thing.
Having yourself stare back at you with a blank, expectant expression was something else entirely.
Miles stood in his living room, locked in a silent staring contest with his own perfect copy.
"Okay," Miles said, breaking the silence.
"First things first."
"We need to establish some ground rules."
The clone just tilted its head, listening.
"Rule number one," Miles continued, pointing a finger at his double.
"No talking about me behind my back."
"I'll know."
"Because, you know, I'm you."
The clone's lips twitched, the barest hint of a shared, sarcastic smile.
This whole dual consciousness thing was deeply, profoundly weird.
He could feel his own amusement and the clone's detached curiosity at the same time.
It was like having two tabs open in his brain.
"Rule number two," he went on.
"You get the dangerous missions."
"I get to stay here and work on my history presentation."
"It's only fair."
"I'm the original."
