ought up incidents that happened in school, things that only Hal and I
knew. _Jed, he knew them._"

* * * * *

With the exception of a hooded blue lamp on the bridge, all lights had
been turned off again. The control room was in darkness. Ron Val was an
uneasy shadow talking from dim blackness.

"Then you think that it is really Sarkoff?"

"I don't know."

"But if he remembers things that only Hal could know--"

"He remembers things that he can't know."

"Um. What things?"

"He asked me how much progress had been made in repairing the ship. Jed,
he must have died before he knew the ship had been damaged."

"Not necessarily," said Hargraves thoughtfully. "He might have been
conscious for one or two minutes after the beam struck us. He would know
that the ship had been damaged. What did you tell him?"

"I changed the subject."

"Good for you. If he isn't Sarkoff, the one thing he might want to know
is whether the ship has been repaired. What else?"

"Jed, he remembers _everything_ that happened after the ship was
attacked. We almost crashed before we got the engines started. He
remembers that. He remembers hiding the ship among the trees."

Hargraves stirred. The keen logic of his mind was being blunted by facts
that would not fit into any logical pattern. He tried to think. His mind
refused the effort. Dead men ought not to remember things that happened
after they died. But a dead man had remembered!

For an instant panic walked through the captain's mind. Then he got it
under control. There was always an answer to every question, a solution
to every problem. Or was there? He went hunting facts.

"Does he remember being buried?"

Even in the darkness he could feel Ron Val shiver. "No," Ron Val said.
"He doesn't remember. Just as soon as we landed, he thinks you sent him
out, to scout the surrounding territory for possible enemies."

"Does he know that we had visitors in his absence?"

"No. Or if he does, he didn't mention it, and I didn't ask. He says he
was returning when he saw the ship being moved. He says he tried to
follow, but lost it in the darkness. He says he had the devil's own time
finding it again, and he's still hot about being left behind."

Again Hargraves had to fight the panic in his mind. This much seemed
obvious. Sarkoff's memory was accurate--until the ship landed. Then it
went into fantasy, into error. If one thing was certain, he had not been
sen