In the morning, Leigh did an easy, logical thing. She made a phone call.

"Dr. Levy's office."

"Oh.

"May I help you?"

"I wanted Dr. Gray"

"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number."

"Oh, but--is this the Sherwood Professional Building?"

"Yes, it is."

"Then this must be the right number."

"I'll connect you with the switchboard. They should be able to find Dr, Gray for you."

"I'm sorry, but we have no Dr. Gray listed."

"Oh, but you must!" Panic took her by the throat. She had the address written in her book. She could not be mistaken about that. Her memories might play tricks, but here, written down, was unarguable fact.

"Would you hold on, please?"

Dr. Gray had moved out two years earlier, had returned to New York City. And his address, yes, he had left his address.

Fingers trembling, Leigh wrote down the address, already thinking of leaving.

It was easy to leave; so easy that it had to be the right thing to do. Easy to get a baby-sitter, easy to put toothbrush and checkbook in her purse, easy to write Sammy a note saying she'd gone to Albany to see her parents, a family crisis, don't worry, I'll call tonight to explain. It was easy; her hands were cold and her thighs trembled only because she'd never done anything like this before. But it was easy not to think about that, too.

It wasn't quite two o'clock when Leigh reached La Guardia airport. She gave a cab-driver Dr. Gray's address and sank into the backseat, eyes closing, as she let herself relax. She found herself remembering, as effortlessly as if she were dreaming.

Shining white walls that hurt her eyes to look at. Creatures--humanoid but alien--with long, thin bodies and shields before their faces loomed above her. Silver masks, with the glint of eyes behind the grillwork. She was on a table, her feet in stirrups, wide open, her mind moving in and out of consciousness, accepting what she saw as a dream. This was a dream induced by anesthetic-she had come here for an abortion. But this was no doctor's office, and none of these masked creatures were doctors as she knew doctors.

She felt a touch like wind on her face and thought, for just a moment, that if she could see the faces behind the masks she would know them. She tried to speak, to ask what was happening to her, but her mouth seemed sealed shut and she could not move her tongue.

There was a high, chattering sound in the air, and then darkness for a very long time...

"Hey, lady, you okay?" The cab-driver, looking over the seat, concerned; they had stopped moving.

"Oh, yes... I'm sorry." The present surged back unpleasantly: the stale, muggy air, the stiff parchment of the cabbie's face, too close to her own.

She struggled out of the cab, overtipping the driver because it was too much trouble to deal with coins, to count, to struggle with numbers. She wanted to remember again, to know, but the moment was past.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No. But I just need to speak to the doctor, that's all. It's very important. It's an emergency. Please."

"Well..." The nurse smiled at her, obviously accustomed to dealing with these important emergencies of women without appointments. "Why don't you take a seat? The doctor will see you in a few minutes."

Dr. Gray was in his early fifties, with a trimly muscled body, grey hair, white sideburns. He was a stranger. Leigh was certain she had never seen him before.

"Eight years ago--I realize that's a long time--I came to you for an abortion," Leigh said. "At least, I think I did. I was supposed to--I had your address. And I need to know if I actually got here, if I ever actually had the abortion. You see, I don't remember anything about it. I don't remember you, and you'd think I'd at least remember the doctor, wouldn't you? You'd think I would remember something, if not everything--you'd think I wouldn't be able to forget."

He was watching her closely, as if reading her lips or waiting for the translation. After a pause he said, "This was in New Jersey?"

"Well, it must have been. You were practicing in Englewood eight years ago, and that's the address I have. It's written down. I've forgotten everything else, but that was written down."

The concern on his face was still hovering, waiting for more explanation before taking over his expression. "And what seems to be the problem?"

"Did I have the abortion? I need to know. When I set out for your office, did I ever reach it?"

He gave his head a tiny shake. "I don't understand. Surely if you didn't have the abortion you'd have some rather substantial evidence. But--I'm afraid I can't help you. Eight years ago, you'll recall, abortion was illegal, and of course we kept no records." No guilt on his face: the passing of the law had wiped out his sin, and made him a crusader rather than renegade.

The boy was standing behind the doctor, looking at her. Leigh closed her eyes.

"Are you all right?"

"It has happened before," Leigh said. "That couple interrupted on a vacation trip, those fishermen in Louisiana--they were picked up by creatures in a flying saucer, they were examined, and they forgot it all, except for dreams and hints. They wrote books, they were written about--people took them seriously, it wasn't just some... derangement, it--"

"Mrs. Ward."

She opened her eyes. The boy was gone. "I'm sorry," she said. "This has nothing to do with you at all, it must sound like nonsense to you." She looked directly at him, knowing she had never seen him before today, knowing that she was on the verge of something very great, the most important discovery of her life.

"And since you have no records, and no recollection of me--"

The doctor hesitated, then shook his head. His face was troubled.

Leigh smiled. "I won't take up any more of your time. I'm sorry to have troubled you." She was fine now; she knew that the child had not been aborted, only transplanted to another womb, to be born in due time and grow to play an important role.

Just outside the office door, a dark-haired woman stopped with her hand on the knob, about to go past her. "Leigh? Leigh Wilson?"

Leigh looked at the face beneath the feathery hat. "Callie?"

They repeated each other's names two or three more times and hugged and gave each other awkward, pecking kisses.

"But not Leigh Wilson anymore," said Callie. "I remember that much. I was at your wedding. How are you? Gray is your doctor? Are you living in the City now?"

"No, I'm just in for a few days."

Callie opened her mouth, then closed it quickly as she decided why her old friend was in the city to see Dr. Gray. "Oh. Oh. Well. Where are you staying? You need a place to stay? Come stay with us--we'd love to have you."

"No, no, I couldn't."

"Well, all right then, at least you'll come over tonight. We're having a party, and it's been ages since I've been able to talk to you."