"Oh," said Channing in desperation. "Oh."
"I was thinking precisely the same thing. If the second Channing has returned for his briefcase, then he was the Channing who visited me before. You see, he knew about the missing briefcase. You did not."
"That's ridiculous," Channing blurted. "I know who I am."
"Who are you?"
"I'm not Bryan Channing. I'm the copy. And I can prove it."
"Yes? How?"
"By telling you what's inside the briefcase." It was a gamble, Channing knew. But in all probability, the interior as well as the exterior of the case had been duplicated.
"But he knew, Channing. He knew. Well, we shall see. By now the airlock should have been adjusted for our atmosphere. There...."
The door opened. In walked Bryan Channing, face clearly visible in the plexi-glass of the helmet.