ories are consecutive and
complete: I remember not only the earlier things you say you remember,
but the events of these past twenty-five years, without a break. You say
you suffered a period of amnesia, and your next consecutive memory is of
being with Martians in the Icaria Desert."

"That would appear to give you an advantage in claiming to be the real
Dark Kensington," agreed Dark with a smile. "But, if you are, who am I?
How is it that I remember being Dark Kensington?"

"It's entirely possible that, for some reason, my earlier memories were
grafted onto you as your own," replied Old Beard. "I don't know how this
would be done, perhaps through very deep and extensive hypnosis. The
Martians, as well as we can tell anything about them at all, are experts
in such mental fields, a relic of the ancient science they're legended
to have had when their civilizations covered Mars.

"I worked with Martians very closely for long periods during the early
days of the rebellion--the Phoenix, as you say they call it now--and
they may very well have recorded my memory pattern through some means I
don't know anything about and for reasons I can't imagine."

"That sounds reasonable," conceded Dark. "But that still leaves
unanswered the questions: Who am I, and what's happened to my memories
of the past twenty-five years?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that," replied Old Beard.

In the dimness ahead of them, they discerned a group of nude Toughs
approaching, swaggering down the path. They turned aside and found a
recess in the vegetation in which they could wait until the Toughs
passed and went on their way. The Toughs were aggressive, and
insensately brutal, and a meeting with them could only mean trouble.

"Happy's explained the situation here, as well as he could, but I'm
afraid it wasn't a very adequate explanation," said Dark as they huddled
in the shadowed recess. "Could you tell me more about it, and explain
how you happen to be here?"

"Happy is very intelligent, for a Jelly, but none of the Jellies are
exceptionally bright," answered Old Beard, with a touch of affection in
his voice. "I'll outline it to you as briefly as I can.

"As your memories--or transplanted memories--indicate, I was one of a
group of Martian colonists who joined forces to work at what, at first,
appeared to be a theoretical and fantastic project: the development of
the ability to live under natural Martian conditions, without dependence
on the