 Had the narrator vehemently denied his position as Yandro, would the opinions of the people have likely changed?
He was Yandro, the Stranger of the Prophecy—and he found that he was destined to fight both sides. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Summer 1944. Words formed themselves on my thick tongue, words that must have been spoken by so many reviving unfortunates through the ages: "Where am I?" "It was ordered—by the Masters of the Worlds—that you should be brought from your own home planet, called Earth in the System of the star called Sun. It is as well, for this will be a birth and beginning of your destined leadership on Dondromogon." The voice was telling me that I had been snatched from worlds away, for a specified purpose here on whatever windswept planet Dondromogon might be. "It is a world the size of your native one," came words of information. One face of Dondromogon ever looks to the light and heat, wherefore its metals run in glowing seas. But because Dondromogon wavers on its axis, there are two lunes of its surface which from time to time shift from night to day. My eyes were tight shut against the dust, but they saw in imagination such a planet—one-half incandescent, one-half pitchy black. Of course, such areas, between the hot and cold hemispheres, would be buffeted by mighty gales ... the voice was to be heard again: "War is fought between the two strips of habitable ground. Dondromogon was found and settled long ago, by adventurers from afar. "Suffice it that you were needed, and that the time was ripe. There is a proper time, like a proper place, for each thing and each happening. 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? My first glance showed me that my companions were creatures like myself—two-legged, fair-skinned men, shorter and slighter than I, but clad in metal-faced garments and wearing weapons in their girdles. Especially as I don't know who I am, or where I'm from, or anything that has happened longer ago than just a moment. "There's a bigger reward for capture than for warning," objected his friend in turn, "and whoever comes to take this man will claim 'capture.' "I'll make no resistance, if you'll only conduct me to your commander. No enemy?" asked the broad-faced one who had first spoken.
 No, because the inhabitants strictly uphold and respect the prophecy that named the narrator as Yandro.
 No, because the narrator would eventually be forced against his own will to be Yandro.  Yes, because the narrator would have been sent back to Earth for his denial of the position.  Yes, because the inhabitants would have instead acted distastefully towards the narrator for not wanting to assume the position.  No, because the inhabitants strictly uphold and respect the prophecy that named the narrator as Yandro.