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accidental…”
    “How can you accidentally get pregnant?”
    “You know…” But she trailed off. “No, I guess you
don’t
know. On your world, generations are born every ten years.”
    Ponter nodded.
    “And all your females have their menstrual cycles synchronized. So, when men and women come together for four days each month, it’s usually when the women can’t get pregnant.”
    Again a nod.
    “Well, it’s not like that here. Men and women live together all the time, and have sex throughout the month. Pregnancies happen that aren’t wanted.”
    “You told me during my first visit that your people had techniques for preventing pregnancy.”
    “We do. Barriers, creams, oral contraceptives.”
    Ponter was looking past Mary now, out at Georgian Bay. “Do they not work?”
    “Most of the time. But not everybody practices birth control, even if they don’t want a baby.”
    “Why not?”
    Mary shrugged. “The inconvenience. The expense. For those not using contraceptive drugs, the…ah, the breaking of the mood in order to deal with birth control.”
    “Still, to conceive a life and then to discard it…”
    “You see!” said Mary. “Even to you, it’s a moral issue.”
    “Of course it is. Life is precious—because it is finite.” A pause. “So what does your religion say about abortion?”
    “It’s a sin, and a mortal one at that.”
    “Ah. Well, then, your religion must demand birth control, no?”
    “No,” said Mary. “That’s a sin, too.”
    “That is…I think the word you would use is ‘nuts.’ ”
    Mary lifted her shoulders. “God told us to be fruitful and multiply.”
    “Is this why your world has such a vast population? Because your God ordered it?”
    “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”
    “But…but, forgive me, I do not understand. You had a man-mate for many tenmonths, no?”
    “Colm, yes.”
    “And I know you have no children.”
    “Right.”
    “But surely you and Colm had sex. Why were there no offspring?”
    “Well, um, I
do
practice birth control. I take a drug—a combination of synthetic estrogen and progesterone—so that I won’t conceive.”
    “Is this not a sin?”
    “Lots of Catholics do it. It’s a conflict for many of us—we want to be obedient, but there
are
practical concerns. See, in 1968, when the whole Western world was getting very liberal about sexual matters, Pope Paul VI issued a decree. I remember hearing my parents talk about it in later years; even they had been surprised by it. It said that every instance of sex has to be open to the creation of children. Honestly, most Catholics expected a loosening, not a tightening, of restrictions.” Mary sighed. “To me, birth control makes sense.”
    “It does seem preferable to abortion,” said Ponter. “But suppose you
were
to get pregnant when you did not wish to. Suppose…”
    Mary slowed to let another car pass. “What?”
    “No. My apologies. Let us discuss something else.”
    But Mary got it. “You were wondering about the rape, weren’t you?” Mary lifted her shoulders, acknowledging the difficulty of the subject. “You’re wondering what my Church would have wanted me to do had I become pregnant because of the rape.”
    “I do not mean to make you dwell on unpleasant matters.”
    “No, no, it’s all right. I’m the one who brought up the example of abortion.” Mary took a deep breath, let it out, and went on. “If I’d become pregnant, the Church would argue that I should have the baby, even if it was conceived through rape.”
    “And would you have?”
    “No,” said Mary. “No, I would have had an abortion.”
    “Another time when you would not follow the rules of your religion?”
    “I love the Catholic Church,” said Mary. “And I love being a Catholic. But I refuse to relinquish control of my conscience to anyone. Still…”
    “Yes?”
    “The current Pope is old and ailing. I don’t expect he will be around too much longer. His replacement may