“I have often studied the reaction of others who have undergone brain transference,” he said, “and so I am not wholly surprised at my own. Not only has my brain energy been stimulated, resulting in an increased production of nervous energy, but I also feel the effects of the young tissue and youthful blood of my new body. They are affecting my consciousness in a way that my experiment had vaguely indicated, but which I now see must be actually experienced to be fully understood. My thoughts, my inclinations, even my ambitions have been changed, or at least coloured, by the transfer. It will take some time for me to find myself.” Though uninterested, I listened politely until he was through and then I changed the subject. “Have you located the missing woman?” I asked. He shook his head, negatively. “You must appreciate, Ras Thavas,” I said, “that I fully realize that you must have known that the removal or destruction of that woman would entirely frustrate my entire plan. You are master here. Nothing that passes is without your knowledge.” “You mean that I am responsible for the disappearance of the woman?” he demanded. “Certainly. It is obvious. I demand that she be restored.” He lost his temper. “Who are you to demand?” he shouted. “You are naught but a slave. Cease your impudence or I shall erase you—erase you. It will be as though you never had existed.” I laughed in his face. “Anger is the most futile attribute of the sentimentalist,” I reminded him. “You will not erase me, for I alone stand between you and mortality.” “I can train another,” he parried. “But you could not trust him,” I pointed out. “But you bargained with me for my life when you had me in your power,” he cried. “For nothing that it would have harmed you to have granted willingly. I did not ask anything for myself. Be that as it may, you will trust me again. You will trust, for no other reason than that you will be forced to trust me. So why not win my gratitude and my loyalty by returning the woman to me and carrying out in spirit as well as in fact the terms of our agreement?” He turned and looked steadily at me. “Vad Varo,” he said, “I give you the word of honor of a Barsoomian noble that I know absolutely nothing concerning the whereabouts of 4296-E-2631-H.” “Perhaps Yamdor does,” I persisted. “Nor Yamdor. Of my knowledge no person in any way connected with me knows what became of it. I have spoken the truth.”