She knew me! We had met before. I should have remembered her, and the two men who had been at the bar. But my memory was as blank as a darkened, empty computer screen.

By the time I was walking down the front stairs of St. Mercy’s, looking up the street for a taxi, I decided not to go home. Instead, I gave the cabbie the address of my office building — where my personnel record was on file.

The externals are easy. My name is John G. O’Ryan. That had always made me feel slightly uneasy, as though it wasn’t the proper name for me, not my real name at all. John O’Ryan. It didn’t feel right. I am the chief of marketing research for Continental Electronics Corporation, a multinational firm that manufactures lasers and other high-technology equipment. My personnel file, as I searched through it on my desktop computer, said that I was thirty-six years old, but I’ve always felt younger…

Always?

I tried to remember back to my thirtieth birthday and found with a shock that I could not. My thirty-third birthday was clear in my mind: that was the night I had spent with Adrienna, the boss’ private secretary. It was a memorable occasion. Adrienna was transferred to the company’s London office a few weeks later, and ever since then I seem to have spent all my time with the computers and my work. I tried to recall Adrienna’s face and could not. Nothing came to my mind except the hazy recollection of dark hair, a strong, lithe body, and lustrous gray eyes.

Beyond my thirty-third birthday my mind was a blank. I frowned in concentration so hard that my jaw muscles started to ache, but I still could not remember anything more than three years back. No knowledge of who my parents were. No memories of childhood. I did not even have any friends outside the small circle of acquaintances here at the office.

Cold sweat broke out all over my body. Who am I? Why am I?