odes from your past."

Zarwell's expression became wary. He watched Bergstrom closely. After a
minute, however, he seemed satisfied, and he let himself settle back
against the cushion of his chair. "I remember nothing of what I saw," he
observed.

"That's why you're here, you know," Bergstrom answered. "To help you
remember."

"But everything under the drug is so ..."

"Haphazard? That's true. The recall episodes are always purely random,
with no chronological sequence. Our problem will be to reassemble them
in proper order later. Or some particular scene may trigger a complete
memory return.

"It is my considered opinion," Bergstrom went on, "that your lost memory
will turn out to be no ordinary amnesia. I believe we will find that
your mind has been tampered with."

"Nothing I've seen under the drug fits into the past I do remember."

"That's what makes me so certain," Bergstrom said confidently. "You
don't remember what we have shown to be true. Conversely then, what you
think you remember must be false. It must have been implanted there. But
we can go into that later. For today I think we have done enough. This
episode was quite prolonged."

"I won't have any time off again until next week end," Zarwell reminded
him.

"That's right." Bergstrom thought for a moment. "We shouldn't let this
hang too long. Could you come here after work tomorrow?"

"I suppose I could."

"Fine," Bergstrom said with satisfaction. "I'll admit I'm considerably
more than casually interested in your case by this time."

A work truck picked Zarwell up the next morning and he rode with a tech
crew to the edge of the reclam area. Beside the belt bringing ocean muck
from the converter plant at the seashore his bulldozer was waiting.

He took his place behind the drive wheel and began working dirt down
between windbreakers anchored in the rock. Along a makeshift road into
the badlands trucks brought crushed lime and phosphorus to supplement
the ocean sediment. The progress of life from the sea to the land was a
mechanical process of this growing world.

Nearly two hundred years ago, when Earth established a colony on St.
Martin's, the land surface of the planet had been barren. Only its seas
thrived with animal and vegetable life. The necessary machinery and
technicians had been supplied by Earth, and the long struggle began to
fit the world for human needs. When Zarwell arrived, six months before,
the vitalized area already ex