About “The Copenhagen Test” in a few words:

The Copenhagen Test is a slick blend of sci-fi and espionage thriller set in a near-future intelligence world. The story follows Alexander Hale, a first-generation Chinese-American analyst whose life takes a wild turn when he discovers his own senses are hacked, letting shadowy forces see and hear everything he does. Caught between his secretive agency and unknown enemies, he must play along, probing loyalties and unmasking threats while trying to hold on to who he is.

Meet the characters from The Copenhagen Test

Alexander Hale

Alexander Hale is the kind of lead who looks like he’s been carved out of fog and old newspaper clippings — brooding, stubborn, endlessly curious — and yes, he probably keeps a notebook full of half-finished theories and grocery lists in the same pocket (don’t ask). He’s the problem-solver, the one who stays up until 3 AM re-running a conversation in his head like a broken record, but somehow still orders takeout with the exact right amount of spice. He’s annoyingly reliable in crisis and totally flaky about social plans, which somehow makes him more human, not less. Oh, and he has a scar you’re not supposed to stare at but you will, and he insists he got it from a biking accident though that story feels like a lie.

Michelle

Michelle bursts into a scene and somehow rearranges the whole vibe — brilliant, principled, and a little chaotic, like a fireworks display that also hands you a research paper. She’s the scientist/optimist type who explains things with diagrams and then cries at bad rom-coms (not that she’d admit it), and she will defend an idea until she’s blue in the face but also change her mind if someone makes a good cup of coffee. She keeps her lab impeccably messy, which is definitely a thing, and is fiercely loyal to anyone she calls “team.” Also, she has this habit of quoting obscure philosophers at inconvenient moments; charming or terrifying depending on the day.

Samantha Parker

Samantha Parker is that razor-sharp journalist/agent/whatever-label-she’s-given-herself who can interview a suspect while making them reveal their favorite childhood memory — and then steal their stapler as a joke. She’s witty, a little cynical, and fast on her feet, but she has these random soft spots (kids’ drawings? stray dogs? a terrible old song?) that make her less of a caricature and more of a living, messy person. She’s not above bending rules — okay, she bends them a lot — but she has standards, very specific and contradictory ones. Also, she collects tiny ceramic owls for some reason and insists they are “research,” which is either adorable or sinister depending on your tolerance for personality quirks.

Peter Moira

Peter Moira feels like someone who knows more than they let on and smiles while doing it — kind of a mentor/foil with a past that glints suspiciously like espionage and a present that likes crossword puzzles at dawn. He’s calm, sarcastic in a dry way, and bizarrely fond of making tea for everyone even if he can’t boil water without a manual (yes, really). Sometimes he’s maddeningly precise and other times he disappears for days and comes back humming nursery rhymes; you never know which Peter you’ll get but both are useful. And he keeps a box of old movie tickets under his bed for reasons he’ll only explain in riddles.