The Man Who Was Six
By F. L. WALLACE
Illustrated by ASHMAN
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Science Fiction September 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
There is nothing at all like having a sound
mind in a sound body, but Dan Merrol had too
much of one—and also too much of the other!
"Sorry, darling," said Erica. She yawned, added, "I've tried—but Ijust can't believe you're my husband."
He felt his own yawn slip off his face. "What do you mean? What am Idoing here then?"
"Can't you remember?" Her laughter tinkled as she pushed him away andsat up. "They said you were Dan Merrol at the hospital, but they musthave been wrong."
"Hospitals don't make that kind of mistake," he said with a certaintyhe didn't altogether feel.
"But I should know, shouldn't I?"
"Of course, but...." He did some verbal backstepping. "It was abad accident. You've got to expect that I won't be quite the sameat first." He sat up. "Look at me. Can't you tell who I am?" Shereturned his gaze, then swayed toward him. He decided that she washighly attractive—but surely he ought to have known that long ago.
With a visible effort she leaned away from him. "Your left eye doeslook familiar," she said cautiously. "The brown one, I mean."
"The brown one?"
"Your other eye's green," she told him.
"Of course—a replacement. I told you it was a serious accident. Theyhad to use whatever was handy."
"I suppose so—but shouldn't they have tried to stick to the originalcolor scheme?"
"It's a little thing," he said. "I'm lucky to be alive." He took herhand. "I believe I can convince you I'm me."
"I wish you could." Her voice was low and sad and he couldn't guess why.
"My name is Dan Merrol."
"They told you that at the hospital."
They hadn't—he'd read it on the chart. But he had been alone in theroom and the name had to be his, and anyway he felt like Dan Merrol."Your name is Erica."
"They told you that too."
She was wrong again, but it was probably wiser not to tell her how heknew. No one had said anything to him in the hospital. He hadn't giventhem a chance. He had awakened in a room and hadn't wanted to be alone.He'd got up and read the chart and searched dizzily through the closet.Clothes were hanging there and he'd put them on and muttered her nameto himself. He'd sat down to gain strength and after a while he'dwalked out and no one had stopped him.
It was night when he left the hospital and the next thing he rememberedwas her face as he looked through the door. Her name hadn't been on thechart nor her address and yet he had found her. That proved something,didn't it? "How could I forget you?" he demanded.
"You may have known someone else with that name. When were we married?"
Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital. It would have been easierto convince her there. But he'd been frantic to get home. "It was quitea smashup," he said. "You'll have to expect some lapses."
"I'm making allowances. But can't you tell me something about myself?"
He thought—and couldn't. He wasn't doing so well. "Another lapse,"he said gloomily and then brightened. "But I can tell you lots aboutmyself. For instance, I'm a specialist in lepidoptera."
"What's that?"
"At the moment, who knows? Anyway, I'm a well-known actor and amusic