Allison spent the day making new friends, and experiencing things in a new way, the first time really as herself, traversing the station on her own. This happened while Angie prepared for her new job with the medical professors. When Angie came back to the apartment it was obvious she enjoyed herself as she was a little worse for wear. And worse again once the two demolished most of a bottle of gin she’d been given as a gift.

Now Allison is waiting around, letting Angie sleep off her hangover before they go for breakfast with Adam. But the time spent doing nothing but waiting for Angie has brought her to a realisation, and she needs to tell One something about her intentions.

---

For the first time in a week Angie slept in the single bed. Allison didn’t know why. Angie had gone to pee before they both turned in, after their gin and tonics, many gin and tonics, and after a while Allison had wondered where she’d gotten to.

When she checked she found Angie passed out, limbs at weird angles, in the single bed. The primary bed for women, technically, if they didn’t intend to break the rules that seemingly didn’t matter in any real way.

Angie was much, much more drunk than Allison the night before, and kept talking, repeating herself about what the university course would mean. Telling Allison all the things the medical professors were talking about, and intended for her to learn.

She could barely speak slowly enough when she talked about what she’d be doing for people. By the point the bottle was nearly empty she looked like she could throw up. Allison said Angie had drank too much, but after lying down on the couch, and explaining her thoughts, it appeared it was nerves over the responsibility she’d have; how serious it would be to represent people’s concerns; their very troubling, very personal, medical concerns. And it wouldn’t be like with Allison where she’d murder for someone she wanted a relationship with, and where she knew Allison loved her just as much.

Angie had said she loved Allison, a lot, which showed exactly how drunk she was.

Angie admitted she’d made her worries clear to the more friendly professors sometime mid-afternoon, at which point their planning session was curtailed and they retired to someone’s office where the bottles came out. Once calmed Angie came back to Allison with the gift of the gin and bottles of tonic from the friendly professors. Just in case she had any more panicky feelings.

Of course at some point Angie said she’d meet Adam for breakfast, although Allison had to type it for her, then promise to wake her on time. No matter what, please wake her. She had to tell Adam her news; Adam was the only other person she could really tell.

And now breakfast wasn’t happening, it appeared. Maybe brunch, but at the current rate of snoring it looked more like lunch, maybe a late one. Allison had spent the morning kicking her heels waiting for Angie to wake up, but Angie had waited for her just a few days before, letting Allison recover via her sleep. Allison had to do the same in return.

Except something had played on Allison’s mind ever since she rose — the many hours since she rose — all about what Angie related to Allison about how she was taking on so much responsibility to people.

Everything had worked to bring Allison to the point she was at now; a woman, in her own apartment, with a dressing room full of clothes, her own heels, makeup, earrings, a hairstyle. Men who seemed to like her. A man who’d kissed her and she’d done her best to make him enjoy himself in more ways than kissing. She had friends, and best friends. Most of all she was happy. Her life had purpose, and she was happy, all because she’d met One.

She hadn’t been told, and her meeting with Des indicated nothing like it, but she knew her job would be to sit with others in the future and smoke with them. Maybe someday she’d be sitting with someone like Patryk used to be and helping him realise he was really Allison, and not actually the Patryk he thought he was all along. She had to work, and learn. If she didn’t continue down this path it’d be an insult to what started this journey. More, it’d be an insult to people, who she knew existed, who needed a discovery like she’d had. Maybe not the same discovery but most people she’d met, especially since she became Allison, had some issues, or had overcome their issues with help, and guidance. People needed help. It’s what Sandra and Sandy said; you worked to help people.

Allison messaged One. It was a simple message. “I want to get back to my job. Whatever this is, I’m ready for it.”

A few minutes later a message came to Allison, back from One. “I’ll meet you in your apartment as soon as I can get there. I’ve found Adam and it appears Angie is with you.”

After about twenty-five minutes the notification came someone was at the door. Allison walked to it and let Adam and One in. Allison was shocked when One put his arm around Allison and gave her a squeeze.

“What’s up? What’s going on?” Allison asked.

“I have breakfast,” One said, carrying some paper bags of food while Adam carried drinks of various kinds. “Where’s Angie?”

“Asleep, and hungover.”

“I’ll wake her,” Adam said.

“What’s happened?” Allison asked, feeling concerned. One had hugged her!

“You have a big decision to make, Allison,” Adam said. “Let me wake Angie.”

Allison helped One unpack some paper plates and containers of food, along with some knives and forks. Taking the lids off the food containers she saw there were spicy eggs and spicy potatoes, another container held little curls of bacon, another some salsa and another beans. Finally, in a bag, were some breads.

“What’s going on, One?”

One placed the empty bags on the ground and looked up at Allison, “You have a big decision to make. Which will be better made having been fed. Never mind how all this food will help Angie.” He picked up his shoulder bag he’d also set down. “How bad will her hangover be?”

“Monster,” Allison said.

“Big guns. You should have asked me what smoke to give her, separate to all this.”

Allison twisted a little. “Why would I do that?”

“The first time we met the smoke I gave you helped with your hangover; the very first smoke. Surely you knew I could scale that up, and it’d be in your little backpack?”

Although Allison had considered something existed, the thought never occurred to actually smoke it, or ask for it, despite having had some degree of hangover a few times since then, and pain and ill-ease, during the week. “Why would I do that? Smokes aren’t really for that.”

One cleared his throat. “You definitely need to eat. No more questions until then.”

“Angie’s sitting on the bed, worried she’ll throw up,” Adam said, from the doorway.

One laughed. Allison absolutely did not laugh, but not out of concern for Angie. “Give her this, then tell her there’s a feast waiting.” He held out a rollie and lighter for Adam, who was soon back in the single room with Angie.

“Eat and catch up with your friends. It’s just a breakfast.” One repeated himself again, firmly. “The breakfast will just be a breakfast. Although to be fair it is my favourite breakfast, as it happens. I had to cash in some favours to skip queues and take someone else’s order to get here as quick as I did.”

A shout came from the bedroom. “Fucking hell, One. You’re a miracle worker! Give Allison a lifetime’s supply of these smokes!” And within moments Angie was bounding out of the bedroom, her full-throated shout having barely escaped before her.

“I am so fucking hungry. Fuck me!” Angie continued.

Adam and Allison just looked at each other as Angie plonked herself in the middle of the couch and started pouring food out onto one of the paper plates.

One found his way to the armchair while Allison and Adam barely managed to squeeze onto the normally two-person couch, with Angie taking up most of the space, all while she inhaled an absolute volume of food as she chugged some orange drink between mouthfuls.

It turned out the food was really good, which helped Allison’s worries mostly escape, along with the chat that slowly began to take hold. One looked absolutely thrilled with himself, delighting in every bite he took of the breakfast and mixing each item with the others, in a chaotic manner, for each forkful.

Adam explained in more detail what had been going on since Allison and Angie last saw him. It turned out when he spoke to his manager about seeing the man deliver the letter it triggered some internal report in his delivery service section. Adam was assigned to trail one of the postmen in green uniforms for a few days, none of which had been like Allison’s delivery.

It seems the delivery service didn’t want their staff getting the wrong idea and spreading rumours. They didn’t mind people knowing the postmen’s work was mostly to deliver official notices, that was what they delivered, mostly, and they ensured they were received, and read; precisely because of what Adam had been worried about when he saw him come into Jenny’s; they were often bad news. What Adam didn’t know was that another part of the role was explaining the information that came with the notice. Which is what made Allison’s delivery even more out-of-the-ordinary.

The postmen didn’t present all the options for what would follow the notice, or go into great depth about the explanations included for what the recipient could do, from the guidance that was included with the notice. Their purpose was almost just to reassure people there were options available to them, and it wasn’t the end of the world. Then they helped them understand where they could go for more help, as the recipient saw fit.

Apparently the two big pockets, one on each leg of their shorts, contained the most important part of their kit. Adam was told this before he ever went out with a postman but he didn’t understand why. One pocket was figured out quickly, he said, the tissues — an abundance of them — were for when people cried. The other pocket’s use became apparent when someone punched a door; a first aid kit to tend to their injuries before the man was brought to a citizen carer to see if he’d broken any bones.

It was quite a revealing experience, according to Adam; seeing people in so many different states, and experiencing so many different emotions in such a brief period of time.

By the time Adam had told his story Allison had very much stopped eating, and Angie had just about stopped eating, but one still seemed to be in raptures from trying yet more combinations of his foods, and in varying quantities and arrangements.

Angie caught Adam up on what she’d been doing, and Allison relayed her few days, talking distractedly about Lem but not really mentioning Clara, although she'd enthused about Clara to Angie the night before; talking about art shows, and post or art-cards. Then they all looked at One, yet still eating, and still not saying a word, until he noticed them watching him, at which point he said, “I should probably stop, shouldn’t I?”

They all nodded.

He scraped what was on his plate into the container with the few potatoes left then Angie emptied the other containers on top before sealing it up. “You can have that for lunch, One.”

“I didn’t even think of that!” One said. “An actual good reason to stop eating! Leftovers! Grab another container. I’ll split them with you.”

Angie laughed, taken aback. “And deny you the pleasure of them? What type of woman do you take me for? Don’t be silly, One.”

“See, Allison. Angie causes me no trouble, unlike you!”

“You bitch, Allison! Causing this dear man trouble!” Angie said.

However Allison had felt her well fed stomach contract. “What’s all this about?”

“Causing trouble...” One sighed. “My colleagues and I have been talking about this. It happens. Not always, but it happens. Some people, who had the smoke you had — and are given the opportunity — discover there’s a world open to them. We keep in contact, they’ll occasionally have a smoke, that’s always an option, but smokes won’t be their world; they found another world was waiting for them.

“Others dig into that little backpack of yours, filled with tins. Have you?”

“No?” Allison said, doubtfully.

“Why not?” One asked.

“Didn’t you say I shouldn’t?” Allison said, trying to actually think of what One had said. At the time it seemed important, but now?

“Did I tell you to try the smokes with Angie and Adam?” One asked, in a way that didn’t seem rhetorical.

“I don’t remember, really, my days have been hectic. I’ve had a lot going on.”

One nodded as though he was expecting this. “Like I said, people like you happen. Not often, but it happens. The majority of people choose. Sometimes they choose the life that opens up to them with the smokes as an option, as needed, when they feel like it. We’ll show them a place like Jenny’s. You’re the first who’s found Jenny’s, but there are other places like it.

“Others choose the smokes. I’ll tell you now I don’t remember what I told you then about smoking them or not. I’ve been through what I’m doing with you for a few people. It’s not a set routine, it’s not precise science. I learn each time. I take advice. People like me, and for Jenny before me, talk. No matter what I told you if the smokes were the most interesting thing you would have chosen to smoke them. You might have quickly asked for more jobs, but it’d be obvious it was for the smokes.

“Now, of the world and the smokes which did you choose?”

Allison was confused by this. The smokes were just smokes, they weren’t the job. The job was something else. “The smokes aren’t the most important thing, One. You know that.”

“Yes, some people figure that out. Typically not before choosing between their world or smoking.”

“I am choosing the world!” Allison said, feeling put down.

“Via the smokes...” One said, and he looked disappointed.

“But that’s—”

“Am I wrong?”

Allison didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t letting her say what she had to say. She was choosing to help the world. That was the whole point of the smokes. They’d helped her, she wanted to help people. If others didn’t see that they were morons!

“The route you’re going involves you sacrificing something,” One said.

Allison felt her heart skip a beat. “What? Sacrifice what?”

“You might not know for a while, you might not even realise it was a sacrifice, but it will have been down to this decision. But you will know, eventually. You’ll cope with it, you’ll manage, but there’ll be some regret. How much I don’t know. And no smokes, and nothing in your life you choose or try will make it stop, or give you that opportunity back.”

“That’s ridiculous, One!” Allison said.

“She’s right,” Angie said.

“Sorry, One,” Adam said. “That is a ridiculous statement.”

One took out his conn and set it down on the bit of the table that was still clear.

Eventually someone answered, it was Jenny.

“You in the bar, Jenny?” One asked.

“Sue is with me.”

“Hi Sue!” Angie said.

“Hi back, Angie. How are you?” Sue said.

“I had a lethal hangover but One fixed it right up, no problem.”

They all heard laughing down the conn from Sue and Jenny.

“Allison’s support is unwavering in their support of her,” One said.

“I told you they would be,” Jenny said. “What’s their issue?”

Adam leaned forward out of the coach, seemingly to get past the mass that was Angie who was almost bouncing from no longer having a hangover. “One said Allison, if she does what she says has to do, will have to sacrifice something.”

“One filled me in, Adam. Assume everyone is up to date with everything,” Jenny said.

“OK. Then you’ll know that everything comes with sacrifice, that’s what choices mean. If you could predict the outcome of every choice before you made it it wouldn’t be a choice.”

Sue and Jenny both laughed, and they all heard a ‘told you so’ from beneath the laughter. Adam knew it had come from Sue.

“Explain to her, One. Tell her what continuing with the job means. She’ll find that out no matter what you say to her, because you do want her to go that route.”

One was fidgeting with one of his curls, then he dropped his hand to his forehead and rubbed at it. “I want her to slow down, Jenny. To take her time.”

“Yeah,” Jenny said. “Explain the job, the part she’d be moving onto.”

One exhaled rapidly, with a rattling sound as though he wanted to make it a threat. “Allison, if you continue with the job you will move apartments. You will go to a section of the station that is dedicated to young tobacconists. You will meet others, for now all will know more than you, as time goes on others will come in just like you. There will be supervision from qualified tobacconists. You will learn from the other young tobacconists. It will be a community of learning, with resources available to you.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Allison said. Then she thought. “I’ll be allowed to visit the rest of the station, won’t I? This isn’t like those spiritual retreats to planets, right? Isolated and hidden away?”

“It’s hidden, in a way. You will be allowed to visit, to go about any business or otherwise you choose, around the rest of the station. In fact it’s encouraged.”

Allison knew something still wasn’t right with this. “What are you hiding, One?”

“Yeah, One!” Jenny said, mirthfully.

“If your support wants to visit you there are dedicated areas where they can.”

“Not my apartment?” Allison asked. One shook his head. “And what are these ‘dedicated areas?’”

“Lounges, bars, cafés, cafeterias where they can join you. The difference from the rest of the station is smoking is allowed, and antics, in general, are more tolerated there.”

Angie laughed. “You should see the ‘antics’ on the university campus! You would not believe!”

“They’re idiots, aren’t they, Angie?” Sue said.

“Experts at it!”

“So we wouldn’t have privacy?” Allison asked.

“If there was—” One began, but Jenny interrupted.

“Not really, Allison,” Jenny said. “It’s supposed to be out in the open, where it can watched, and seen.”

“There must be some other way. If they’re my ‘support’ — as you say they are — I’ll need privacy. People who support you best support you, at times at least, when you have time alone with them,” Allison said.

No-one said anything, instead just looking at each other, until Jenny said, “What are you hiding, One?”

“That’s where the sacrifice comes in, Allison,” One said. “It’s possible to have everything you think you want but you’d have to work two jobs. That’s the sacrifice. You’d end up serving your peers when you’re not mixing and learning from them. You’d essentially be separated from them. Despite everyone’s best efforts for it not to happen you would be different from them.”

Allison had an instant reaction to this, thinking if she wasn’t following a typical route to even ask for this then she’d be separated anyway. But One wasn’t finished. “And by working two jobs — learning and mixing with your peers, and serving the people you’re supposed to be learning and mixing with — you would sacrifice time. By gaining the freedom to see your friends in private you’ll be busier than anyone should be, and you will sacrifice because of that. You will lose the opportunities you would otherwise have had because there is so much pressure on your time. And you will always be different.”

Allison didn’t really know what to think, she couldn’t process all the moving parts.

Angie gripped onto Allison’s thigh. “Allison, we can meet in public. That’s not an issue. You know nothing will stop us being open with you.”

“We had the night in Jenny’s. Two nights, Allison! I’ve mostly seen you in public. It’s not a real issue. Not if it means that much work; if it means losing all your time,” Adam said. “What good is it being able to see us in private if you don’t have that time, or the energy, to really enjoy it? To be the person we love?”

“That’s the sacrifice,” One said, quietly, lifting the hand that had been placed to his forehead, shadowing his downcast eyes.

“What did you do, One?” Allison asked.

One stayed silent, rubbing his lips.

Allison watched him.

After watching him, seemingly in pain, for a little longer, Allison knew. “That answers my question,” she said. She knew she had to follow the path the man who gave the Allison in her to her had followed.

“Whatever the sacrifice is, whatever it means, I don’t know. If I regret it I do. I won’t die of it.”

“Death isn’t the worst thing, Allison,” One said.

“She’s made her decision, One,” Sue said. Angie gripped tighter on Allison’s thigh.

“Yes...” One said. “Thanks Sue, Jenny.” He ended the call. “Are you three comfortable? Sitting squeezed into that?”

“Just about,” Adam said.

“It’ll take a while to explain what I have to explain. The rules for the situation you will find yourself in. I can get another chair delivered, priority. I’ll need your attention. We can just talk while it’s delivered. Take a break...”

Adam stood and dragged the table out from between them all, then began placing the plates and remaining rubbish to the side of the couch. “What would we chat about, after all that?” he asked.

“Fair point, but you take the armchair, Adam. You need to be comfortable for this, a bit of discomfort will help me focus on what I have to say,” One said.

With the couch and chair facing One, sitting on the coffee table, he took a deep breath and began. “You will have to start lying to people, Allison. A lot of people.” Then he talked and talked and talked. And Allison, Adam and Angie stayed quiet.

After an hour of talking, after Adam came back from the bathroom, One put the call through to Jenny. “She’s still on board?” Jenny asked.

“Yeah,” One said, feeling tired.

“I’ll send them the message, they’re ready. How did you start the conversation?”

“I told her she’d have to start lying,” One said.

“How many lies did you spot from him, Allison?”

“None,” Allison said.

“I’ll give you one. Do you think his support, who I know for a fact he’s been talking to about you, told him if he wanted you to slow down he’d have had the earlier conversation a different way, that he wouldn’t have been so hesitant. So seemingly resistant to it. If he wanted you to follow the traditional route he’d have just laid it all out straight and up front, and trusted you to understand the gravity of the situation?

“Now, knowing what I told you, do you still want to go through with this? Knowing you’re being played.”

Allison smiled at Jenny putting it all out there. “Thanks, Jenny. I do want this, yes.”

Jenny ended the call after just saying, “OK...”

One picked up his conn and began to tap away, and after a couple of minutes all three of Triple A’s conns beeped. “It’s an update, for the people you meet in the levels you’re gaining access to. If you exchange IDs, or anything else, it’ll properly categorise things so you can keep track of who’s saying what to who. This will be new for all of you, even compared to already.”

Allison knew what her friends answers would be but she still had to say it. Saying it was important.“Are you two OK with this?” she asked. “I’m looking for a lot from you.”

“It’s what you want,” Adam said, and Angie nodded.

“That’s not what I asked,” Allison said.

“Yes,” Adam said. “I am OK with this. Because it’s what you want. And you speak for you, and I speak for me."

“Fully,” Angie said. “We love you.”

One stood. “What do you own in this apartment, Allison? That you got in the past week, not what was here before. We’ll need to mark it so it can be moved.”

“I can arrange that,” Adam said.

“I do forget you’re a mover,” One said. “How well do you know the station? ‘The Outlook’ I believe it’s called.”

“I’ve delivered there, but you’ll know that’s a pass-off.”

Allison had no clue what the two were talking about, but it didn’t really matter, she didn’t have much stuff that she owned to be moved. “I have one other pair of shoes that were bought for me, my good makeup, a few pairs of stockings and I’m wearing my earrings.”

“And a box,” Angie said.

“My earring box?” Allison said, confused.

“You bought another, absolutely massive box of makeup! The women who sold it to you saw a sucker coming,” Angie said, strangely putting emphasis on the word, ‘sucker.’ “You needed a shower after just to clear the sweat off from fitting it all into its various homes! Remember?!?”

“Oh! Yeah, the big box!! Of makeup for....” Allison said, it dawning on her. “For playing around with. Practice, yeah... Not out of the apartment.... Oh, we can just leave that here. That doesn’t need to be brought with me,” Allison said, understanding her many, yet to be named friends, including her little BFF Freckles, were currently residing in that box.

“I’m sure I can fit your stockings and the like on top of everything. We shouldn’t go anywhere without our good friend ‘makeup,’ to cover our Freckles,” Angie said, and she snorted as she as said Freckles, and Allison blushed. She had no clue Angie had heard her talk to her best little friend, and encourage him. And praise him. She was loud when he got down to business.

“I always carry tape with me — once a mover, et cetera. I’ll help you pack it, Angie”

“I don’t want you going through my stockings!” Allison nigh on screamed.

But Angie had grabbed Adam by the hand and was leading him towards Allison’s dressing room; Allison’s private boudoir. “I don’t know how Allison fit it all in there,” Angie said, laughing.

One was busy tapping on his conn, while Allison breathed slowly. She tried to tell herself if she was being honest Adam was a quite attractive man and it had crossed her mind, once she’d had her surgery, if she needed someone to trust she wouldn’t go too far wrong with him. Apart from the weirdness she’d trust him to respect her, and be kind to her. She just had to believe he’d never mention a thing, again, ever.

Despite her self assurance Allison’s eyes had nearly rattled out of her head by the time Adam was back, carrying the box.

“All packed away, safe and sound,” Adam said, saying nothing, really.

Allison’s eyes were shut tight and she forced herself to open them. Adam had set the box on the table and didn’t look any different to normal.

“OK. We should leave. You have your conn-messaging, as usual, use it more often. It’s what it’s for. You can get a call authorised if you’re really busy with your job, Allison. You might see them tomorrow, it might be a week, or two. You will see them,” One said. “But you should...” One was going to say give them a hug, but Allison was already held tightly by Adam.

“You’re no different to any other woman on this station,” Adam said. “Friends and all.” Then he kissed her on the cheek and squeezed her again.

When she was hugging Angie Angie said, “Message, call, whatever. Any time. Well... Any time except when I’m playing with my makeup. Us girls do love to play with our makeup.” Then she cackled.

“You’re a fucking bitch and I hate you, you fucking bitch-face,” Allison said.

“I’d do a spacewalk to get to you if I had to,” Angie said, softly, but with certainty.

“I love you, stupid fucking bitch-face,” Allison said, feeling shaky.

A few minutes later Allison and One were standing in an elevator, going to her new home; One holding the big box.

“It’ll take a good few minutes to get there,” One said. “The routing for this is a little complex.”

Allison nodded, and there was silence, again.

Every so often Allison glanced at One who seemed impassive, but the occasional mild grimace revealed to Allison things weren’t quite right.

“Jenny was wrong, wasn’t she?” Allison asked.

“How do you mean?” One said.

“You didn’t want me to go this route. You didn’t know what I should do.”

One nodded. “I didn’t, no,” he said. “I don’t know.”

“And I was right, wasn’t I? Smoking is really about helping people?”

One nodded again. “Ultimately, yes,” he said. “But what would have been your peers, and still sort of are, in a way, don’t quite realise that. They see it as exciting. Something to play with, mentally, emotionally. They’re not thinking about purpose.

“They’ll understand, eventually. Most of them. They’ll understand that playing is a way of learning, and helping yourself, and others. Why I didn’t know what to do with you, in this instance, is because I don’t know what you need to play with. I think you just need time. Experience, really. Time to be you. But you’ve made your choice. You know how you want to be you, for now”

Allison thought back to when she first met One, back to her brown smoke. She didn’t remember what she talked about when she smoked it, but for some reason, now, she had the feeling it was quite a straightforward chat. Plain, and simple.

“How straightforward am I, One?”

One laughed with genuine amusement, and a little shock. “You? You’re incredibly straightforward, and not at all. It’s a little frightening, really.”

Allison sighed. “That’s great to hear,” she said. And One laughed again.

A few minutes later the elevator had arrived and they stepped into a waiting area, a few doors leading off it. The bank of elevators they’d come from were all simply marked, no particular destination sectors indicated, and they didn’t seem to be in need by anyone else.

“What now?” Allison asked.

“Someone will be here soon,” One said. “To settle you in.”

And someone did arrive, a woman, whose eyes opened wide when she saw them.

“Fine,” she said. “Great! That’s just great. Let’s get going. I’m Vickie. Pleased to meet you and all that. You’re going to have a busy first day.”

Then One and Allison were lead down a series of corridors, passing a few people on their way, who paid no notice to them. After a little bit Allison noticed some of them, their wristbands, were lit up in green. Not everyone, just a few. Including One and Vickie’s.

They came to an apartment and after Vickie swiped in Allison was told to swipe. The apartment had been registered to her.

The room she entered was quite large, with a few doorways and hallways off it, and it was bare. No furniture.

“You can sort out all your arrangements over the coming days and weeks,” Vickie said. “I don’t know why it’s happening but you’re scheduled to work straight away, Allison.”

One shook his head. “What? Why?” he asked.

“Straight from Nine. I’ve never seen him get involved in something like this, not so directly, not since he was appointed. It could be that Allison's the first to work under his watch. But...” Vickie tilted her head towards Allison. “Really, though, are the white stockings legitimate?”

Allison didn’t know what to make of that. “Yes, of course!” she said, feeling small. Feeling examined.

“Well, that’s just great!” Vickie said. “Are they for moral reasons? Fear? How old are you? You’re not religious are you?”

“Medical reasons!” Allison said, firmly.

“So you don’t have an objection to the yoots getting handsy.”

One was completely taken aback by this and literally took a step backwards. “Handsy? What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Seriously?” Vicky said. “When did you last introduce a student?”

One stared at Vickie, and this time he stepped forward, after calming his glare a little. Then he stepped forward again, almost in front of Allison; as though protecting her; as though preparing for a fight. “A few years ago, maybe? A little longer.” The calmness in his voice was a stark contrast to the height he’d set himself to.

“And you didn’t check up on them? Or how the program was going?”

“I trust the program,” One said.

Vickie growled. “Typical. You hand them off to us and expect us to manage everything...

“Well, for the past while things have been changing. Subtly. Some of the yoots feel a little emboldened with their new found tobacco, these wonderful young tobacconists, our dear yoots, our little pals, and our struggling workers' masters; they're run off their feet dealing with them and I can do nothing about it.

"It was just a few at first, but if you knew anything you’d know behaviour can spread, quite easily... And you're qualified? Do you not pay attention to anything?”

“Why did no-one say anything about this?” One asked. “How bad are they getting? Is it a mental effect?”

“Mental? No," Vickie said, calming. As though she'd been really challenged on something. "Just youth. It’s managed. Just about. Not all of them are shits, but once a little rot gets in...”

“Rot!!? What is Nine doing about this?” One asked, and for the first time, ever, Allison could hear a demand in his voice. A demand verging on anger.

Vickie laughed, condescendingly. “I suppose you’re well aware of how our great and glorious numbers behave, are you? Good friends with a few?”

One rose up to his full height, which wasn’t giant but he looked imposing; square and strong. His battered, old clothing now looked like a uniform.

He held up his hand and touched his wrist, the strap cycling through every shade of colour.

“Who are you?” Vickie asked, her voice going down an octave, volume lowering.

“I’m One,” One said.

“Well that’s fucking brilliant!” Vickie said, with real annoyance. “We’ve been sending you messages for months, and we’ve not heard a thing back. Confirm, please?”

Vickie held out her wrist and One held his out to hers. She then looked at her conn and said. “You’re One.”

“I’m One,” One said. “And this is Allison.”

Allison had no idea what was happening, but whatever they were talking about was far beyond anything she’d experienced before.

“And, of course, Allison is your personal student? Who’s entitled to wear white?” Vickie said.

“Yes.”

“Well, that explains why she’s been scheduled to serve drinks tonight,” Vickie said. “I think you need to play closer attention to Nine, One. He’s in control here.”

One rubbed his forehead. “Enough about me, about the program, what does this mean for Allison?”

“This is all about you, One. And nothing to do with Allison,” Vickie said. “Sorry, dear. But if you want to talk about Allison let’s start with tonight. Do you want to wear white or will you wear the normal tights?”

“What difference does it make?” Allison asked, after one touched her arm, prompting her.

“The difference is between the students, some of the ones you’ve been scheduled to serve drinks to are the ones getting ‘handsy’ — like I said —or if you wear white it’ll mean them getting more psychological. I don’t think they’ll push anything physical, groping and the like, on someone in white. I can’t be certain though. But you’re a yoot, too. I’m not quite sure what they’ll do when they realise that.”

One finally set the box down. “She wears white. If someone gets physical with her you message me. Immediately. There will be consequences for that. She is entitled to wear white and she wears white”

“I can’t bypass the routes,” Vickie said.

“I’m One,” One said.

“So that’s an instruction?”

“You can contact me, directly. About anything related to my student, do you understand me, Vickie?” Vickie nodded. And again they held out wrists, confirming what Allison assumed was an ID exchange on their conns.

“Why do you tolerate this?” Allison asked, her concern coalescing. “These people, the students — yoots — behaving like this, if this is how they treat people who are working for them? Who are supposed to be caring for them, so they can do what I guess they’re meant to be doing? Learning?” Allison felt tired as she said her last word. Drained. Like she'd not only over-stepped but stepped into an entirely new world.

“Allison,” One said. “What I told you about lying is more important than ever. Do you understand? I can’t explain everything, this isn’t for you to deal with, this is my situation. You do what you were told you do. What we said you had to do.

"Allison, this is your opportunity. You're chance to be you. Nothing else matters to you. Be who you are. I trust you, completely."

Allison nodded, not fully grasping but appreciating whatever this was this was it was serious. And whoever One was, well... He was One.