ouldn't determine what it did. But he recognized
the other circuit; essentially it was a retrogressor, but whereas the
gun was crude and couldn't be regulated, this was capable of fine
adjustment--enough, say, to slice a day out of the patient's life, and
no more.

That fitted with what had happened to Luise. She had been experimented
on in some way, and then the memory of that experiment had been
erased. But the man had grown careless and had taken away one day too
many.

He snapped the mechanism closed. This was the method, but he still
didn't know who the man was nor why he found it necessary to do all
this.

There was a door behind him and the answer might lie beyond it. He
listened carefully, then swung the door open and went through.

The blow that hit him wasn't physical; nothing mechanical could take
his nerves and jerk them all at once. A freezer. As he fell to the
floor, he was grateful it was that and not a retro gun.

Lights flooded the place, and the man of the afternoon interview was
grinning at him.

"I thought you'd be back," he said, pleased. "In fact, I knew you
would."

* * * * *

Somewhere he had blundered; but he didn't know how. Experimentally he
wriggled his fingers. They moved a fraction of an inch, but no more.
He was helpless and couldn't say anything. He wasn't quite sure at the
moment that he wanted to.

"You were right, I didn't recognize you physically," continued the
man. "Nevertheless, you gave yourself away. The name you used this
afternoon, Chals Putsyn, is _my_ name. Do you remember now?"

Of course. He'd chosen Chals Putsyn at random, because he'd had to say
something, and everything would have been all right--except it
actually hadn't been a random choice. The associations had triggered
the wrong words into existence.

His mind flashed back to the time he'd discussed names with Borgenese.
What had he said?

Putsy. But it wasn't Putsy--it was Putsyn.

"You're very much improved," said the real Chals Putsyn, staring
curiously at him. "Let me recommend the retro treatment to you. In
fact I'd take it myself, but there are a few inconveniences."

Yeah, there were inconveniences--like starting over again and not
knowing who you were.

But Putsyn was right: he was physically improved. A freezer knocked a
man down and kept him there for half an hour. But Luis had only been
down a few minutes, and already he could move his feet, though he
d