Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
the blackness of space to save a nation from Stranger of the Prophecy—and he found that he was destined to fight both sides. And at once there was an answer: " You lie upon the world Dondromogon. " I knew the language of that answer, but where it came from—above, "How did I get here?" I demanded of the speaker. And I did not know whether I remembered or not. Vague matters stirred deep in me, but I could not for certain say they were memories. I asked The voice had a note of triumph. "You do not know that. It is as well, for this will be a birth and beginning of your destined leadership on Dondromogon." "Destined—leadership—" I began to repeat, and fell silent. I had need to think. The voice was telling me that I had been snatched from Dondromogon might be. "Birth and beginning—destined leadership—" Fantastic! And yet, for all I could say to the contrary, unvarnishedly true. "Dondromogon?" I mumbled. "The name is strange to me." "It is a world the size of your native one," came words of information. "Around a star it spins, light-years away from the world of your birth. One face of Dondromogon ever looks to the light and heat, wherefore its metals run in glowing seas. The other face is ever away in cold darkness, with its air freezing into solid chunks. But because Dondromogon wavers on its axis, there are two lunes of its surface which from time to time shift from night to day. These are habitable." My eyes were tight shut against the dust, but they saw in imagination "War is fought between the two strips of habitable ground. War, unceasing, bitter, with no quarter asked, given or expected. Dondromogon was found and settled long ago, by adventurers from afar. Now come invaders, to reap the benefits of discovery and toil." A pause. "You find that thought unpleasant? You wish to right that "Anyone would wish that," I replied. "But how—" "You are going to ask how you were brought here. That is the mystery ." The voice became grand. "Suffice it that you were The voice spoke no more. I had not the time to wonder about it. I got What had seized me? That was my first wonder. On this strange world called Dondromogon, what manner of intelligent life bade defiance to heat and cold and storm, and built these stout structures, and now laid hands—were they hands indeed?—upon me? I swung around, setting my "There's a bigger reward for capture than for warning," objected his friend in turn, "and whoever comes to take this man will claim had first spoken. Then, to his comrade: "No reward, then." "I think there'll be a reward," was the rejoinder, and the second man's its scabbard. "If he's dead, we get pay for both warning and capture—" its owner's unprotected face. prevent it burning me, and tried to break away, but my bonds were too "They lie," I broke in, very conscious of my naked helplessness before her regard. "They wanted to kill me and be rewarded for a false story of vigilance. I only defended myself." Beyond, it gave into several passages. She chose one of them and nothing. Memory left me." "Stranger," he said to me, "can you think of no better tale to tell "I tell the truth," was my reply, not very gracious. "You will have to prove that," he admonished me. "What proof have I?" I demanded. "On this world of yours—Dondromogon, isn't it called?—I'm no more than an hour old. Accident or shock has taken my memory. Let me have a medical examination. A scientist probably can tell what happened to put me in such a condition." "The stranger of the prophecy!" he cried, in a voice that made us all You mystic doctors are too apt to become fuddled—" strength that you lose touch with the spiritual—" he said, intoning as if in formal prayer. "Pardon these short-sighted ones—deign to save us from our enemies—" plain soldier and follow the classics very little. The First Comers are souls to worship, not to study. If indeed he is Yandro," and he was most respectful, "he will appreciate, like a good military mind, my caution against possible impostors." "Who might Yandro be?" I demanded, very uncomfortable in my bonds and Old Sporr almost crowed. "You see? If he was a true imposter, he would "As it is, he may remember that the Conquering Stranger is foretold to come with no memory of anything," supplied the officer. "Score one "Happy, happy the day," he jabbered, "that I was spared to see our "I still say you will understand my caution," he addressed me, with real respect and shyness this time. "If you are Yandro himself, you can "That could be plastic surgery," rejoined the officer. "Such things are artfully done by the Newcomers, and the red mantle he wears more easily assumed." because he was naked, and not for any treasonable masquerade. But the "Get up," I bade them. "I want to hear why I was first bound, and now "Enemies?" I repeated. "The Newcomers," supplemented Doriza. "They have taken the "Other Side" of Dondromogon, and would take our side as well. We defend ourselves at the poles. Now," and her voice rang joyously, "you will lead us to defeat and crush them utterly!" foolish, but it had its effect. transmute into food, to weave into clothing, to weld into tools and weapons—" combing his beard in embarrassment. The door closed softly behind me—I was left alone. wiped from my recollection. That nose had been even bigger than it was hall. I moved to open it, and he followed, muttering. that I was fated to live when he returned for the rescue of all Dondromogon." "Please get up," I bade her, trying not to sound as embarrassed as I felt. "Come with me. There is still much that I do not understand." "It is necessary that we live like this," she explained. "The hot air of Dondromogon's sunlit face is ever rising, and the cold air from the dark side comes rushing under to fill the vacuum. Naturally, our which I now saw plainly to be synthetic. "The other side, where those you call the Newcomers dwell and fight," I reminded. "Is it also windswept? Why can two people not join forces and face toil and nature Yandro is wise as well as powerful. But the Newcomers do not want to help, not even to conquer. They want to obliterate us. There is nothing to do—not for lifetimes—but to fight them back at the two poles." sheet of dull metal. She spoke into a mouthpiece: "Doriza, gentlewoman of the guard, conducts Yandro, the Conquering in the nation I seemed destined to save, my work was cut out for me. subsequent action, of stupidity. But they were not pleasant. Their " Yandro! " Silence then, a silence which evidently I must break. I broke it: "Friends, I am among you with no more memory or knowledge than an name, how could it be that I sensed memory of another's name? "You honor me," I told him. "Yet I still know little. It seems that I am expected to aid and lead and save the people of this world called Dondromogon. But I must know them before I can help." Gederr turned his eyes upon the woman with the red hair, and gestured to her "Tell him, Elonie." Then he faced me. "Have we Yandro's

<question>:
The purpose for the narrator losing his memory is. . .

<options>:
A Earth is not something a Dondromogon leader should remember.
B So he can be birthed on a clean slate as the new Dondromogon leader.
C So that the Dondromogons will be suspicious of him
D To better assimilate to Dondromogon culture.

<answer>:

B