time in which fingerprints were a
valid means of identification."

"I'm quite a guy, I suppose. Businessman, sportsman, historian." The
man smiled bitterly. "All that ... but I still don't know who I am.
And you can't help me."

"Is it important?" asked the counselor softly. "This happens to many
people, you know, and some of them do find out who they were, with or
without our help. But this is not simple amnesia. No one who's been
retroed can resume his former identity. Of course, if we had tapes of
the factors which made each person what he is...." He shrugged. "But
those tapes don't exist. Who knows, really, what caused him to develop
as he has? Most of it isn't at the conscious level. At best, if you
should learn who you were, you'd have to pick up the thread of your
former activities and acquaintances slowly and painfully.

"Maybe it would be better if you start from where you are. You know as
much as you once did, and the information is up to date, correct and
undistorted. You're younger, in a sense--in better physical condition,
not so tense or nervous. Build up from that."

"But I don't have a name."

"Choose one temporarily. You can have it made permanent if it suits
you."

* * * * *

The man was silent, thinking. He looked up, not in despair, but not
accepting all that the counselor said either. "What name? All I know
is yours, and those of historical figures."

"That's deliberate. We don't put names on tapes, because the effects
can be misleading. Everyone has thousands of associations, and can
mistake the name of a prominent scientist for his own. Names
unconsciously arrived at are usually no help at all."

"What do I do?" the man said. "If I don't know names, how can I choose
one?"

"We have a list made up for this purpose. Go through it slowly and
consciously. When you come to something you like, take it. If you
chance on one that stirs memories, or rather where memories ought to
be but aren't, let me know. It may be a lead I can have traced."

The man gazed at the counselor. His thought processes were fast, but
erratic. He could race along a chain of reasoning and then stumble
over a simple fact. The counselor ought to know what he was talking
about--this was no isolated occurrence. The police had a lot of
experience to justify the treatment they were giving him. Still, he
felt they were mistaken in ways he couldn't formulate.

"I'll have to accept it, I supp