[Gregor draws back a little at that, briefly, visibly startled before he wrests control of his expression again, brows drawing down.]

What an odd way to put it. But no, given Miles' reports I am not under the impression you are 'just' an anything, clone or not. At any rate, regardless of your DNA, you aren't a poorly minted replica of Miles--you're a perfect, single-issue version of yourself. It's up to you to decide what that means now, which is more freedom than some people get, sometimes. [Emperors, for instance. Sorry, Mark, Cordeia Vorkosigan raised two boys during her tenure on Barrayar, you just happen to be on this one's business end at the moment.]

[Gregor shifts, rearranging the supplies he's holding more firmly under one arm and veering back in the conversation, his hazel eyes politely curious and his voice courteous as you please.]

Do you want to assassinate me, Mark?