de.

He had erred--the man was not Dorn Starret.

The other eyed him keenly. "Mr. Chals Putsyn? Please sit down."

Luis did so slowly, giving himself time to complete a mental
inventory. The man _had_ to be Dorn Starret--and yet he wasn't. No
disguise could be that effective. At least three inches shorter; the
shape of his head was different; his body was slighter. Moreover, he
was right-handed, not left, as Starret was.

Luis had a story ready--names, dates, and circumstances. It sounded
authentic even to himself.

The man listened impatiently. "I may not be able to help you," he
said, interrupting. "Oddly enough, light cases are hardest. It's the
serious memory blocks that I specialize in." There was something
strange about his eyes--his voice too. "However, if you can come back
in two days, late in the afternoon, I'll see what I can do."

Luis took the appointment card and found himself firmly ushered to the
door. It was disturbing; Luise was in the next room, but the man gave
him no opportunity to see her.

He stood uncertainly in the hall. The whole interview had taken only a
few minutes, and during that time all his previous ideas had been
upset. If the man was not Dorn Starret, who was he and what was his
connection? The criminal from Ceres was not so foolish as to attempt
to solve his problems by assigning them to another person. This was a
one-man job from beginning to end, or ought to be.

Luis took the elevator to the ground floor and walked out aimlessly on
the street. There was something queer about the man on the top floor.
It took time to discover what it was.

The man was not Starret--but he was disguised. His irises were stained
another color and the voice was not his own--or rather it was, but
filtered through an artificial larynx inserted painfully in his
throat. And his face had been recently swabbed with a chemical
irritant which caused the tissues beneath his skin to swell, making
his face appear plumper.

Luis took a deep breath. Unconsciously he had noticed details too
slight for the average person to discern. This suggested something
about his own past--that he was trained to recognize disguises.

But more important was this: that the man was disguised at all. The
reason was obvious--to avoid evoking memories.

The man's name--what was it? It hadn't even been registered in the
building--he'd asked on his way out. And Luise couldn't tell him. She
was no longer a reliable source of