Belle fails to turn up in the morning for work and Sophia consults with Marion. Later, Marion goes shopping and learns what a Shepherd can really be capable of.

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Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2009 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

Marion waited for Belle as long as she could after breakfast, but eventually she conceded that something had happened and she wouldn't be coming. She was forced to contemplate her next hurdle in life, namely that this would be the first time she had gone anywhere on her own as a woman. Collecting her bag, she gritted her teeth, closed her apartment door and left the building.

As she walked past the two buildings that separated her home from the facility, she felt unbearable pressure. She couldn't rid herself of the illusion that every single window on both sides of the street had one or more people who had nothing better to do than to inspect her closely for flaws, for any tiny deviation from the feminine norm. People who would be discussing her exact choice of clothing, who would comment on how well she had done her hair, whether her shoes were too high or too low, and every little thing like that. She was white-faced by the time she reached the entrance doors and let herself into the facility. This is impossible. I look like a woman, don't I? Half the population is women, so why am I making such hard work of this?

Safe within the known environment of the facility, she let out a big breath and went to the locker room to change. By the time she passed through the fence and waited for a lift, she was almost back to normal. At her desk, she connected with the E Deck watch station immediately.

"Service, Counsellor," Elena answered the call.

"Service, Elena. Has Belle turned up for work today? She was supposed to meet me at my apartment and walk in with me."

Elena shook her head. "No, Counsellor, we've heard nothing. She's not supposed to be off today." She looked at Marion. "Are you all right? Did you walk in by yourself today?"

Marion nodded. "I did, and it was not a fun experience."

Elena scowled. "It's not fair on you, you've been out less than a week. If you're short of an escort tonight, call up and I or one of the girls will be glad to walk home with you. Promise?"

Marion relaxed a little. She hadn't realised that her tension still showed. "I promise. Wonder what's happened to Belle?"

"She can look after herself, I shouldn't worry too much. And we can easily run the Deck with three since the good Counsellor came to call." Elena smiled. "Any problems, don't hesitate to call."

"That should be my line. Thank you, Elena."

Alison turned up while Marion was still wading through the morning's messages. She sat on a chair until Marion had disposed of as many as she could.

"Right," she said, as Marion gave her her undivided attention. "I have to do D Deck this morning again, and then I thought I'd take you to J Deck. That's where most of the new intake gets put while they do their quarantine and until they get allocated to one of the main Decks. I hear you gave D Deck a pretty thorough going-over yesterday afternoon, so you may wish to skip that one this morning."

"Actually, yes, if you don't mind, Alison. I have a little research to do first. If you'll give me a call when you're through with D Deck, and I'll come and join you at the gate there."

Alison nodded, and rose. "Sounds good to me. I'll see you later." She left the office.

Marion had remembered the question about hours of work, and decided she needed to find out what she was legally supposed to be doing. A check of her contract, a reference to some of the employment regulations, and a careful examination of a chart showed her what she needed to know.

Office staff worked, as was near universal in the State, from nine to five. Overtime was permitted, but it was well understood that overtime was an expedient to be used in times of need, and not to be abused by either staff or employer. Unfortunately, unlike most of the admin staff at the facility, Marion was part of Sick Bay, and therefore not considered to be office staff.

Sick Bay personnel worked the same hours as the Day Shift, which was to say eight till six. In practice, the Shepherds worked up to an hour longer, since their working arrangements allowed for an extra half an hour at each end of the shift to ensure a smooth changeover. Shift changeovers for the Day Shift also coincided with the detainees breakfast and evening meals, which ensured that there were extra bodies around to deal with unexpected problems. So the Day Shift Shepherds could work eleven hour shifts - for which they were very well paid.

The Evening and Night shifts worked from six until half one and from half midnight until eight. Although their shifts were much shorter, they were paid the same as the Day Shift since their payment also covered unsocial hours. The hour overlap in the middle of the night was designed to allow either shift to be able to prepare and eat meals while not leaving the Deck uncovered. Shepherds worked six days, then had two off. There were reasonably generous holiday allowances, but Marion knew that the Shepherds rarely managed to take all of it.

Marion discovered that some of the ancillary staff worked weird shifts. She was still puzzling over the different specialisations who worked in the big building when a trusty knocked on the door and offered her a drink from a trolley, along with a selection of cakes and biscuits. She had finished the drink, and had completely recovered from her morning walk, when Alison called.

"I'm sorry," Alison apologised as they climbed the stairs to J Deck, "this might not have been such a good idea. We keep two kinds of people up here on J Deck, those who have just arrived, and are in quarantine, and those who have passed quarantine and are working out their month's isolation. I have no problem with you visiting the isolates, but I'm not so sure about the quarantines. I wouldn't want you to get something."

"A good point. But aren't you exposing yourself, when you or anyone else visits detainees in isolation? Are there shots I should be taking?"

Alison nodded. "You're right. We've had shots against most of the usual things detainees come with, everyone in Sick Bay has. You should certainly be getting those as well. Will you make a note on your datapad to get them organised? What I was thinking about, however, wasn't so much the diseases as the infestations. It's not possible to take shots against those, we just have to be vigilant."

"Ow. Now you've made me want to scratch." Marion grinned. "If you like, I can stand just inside the door. How would that do?"

Alison nodded. "We'll try that. Should work for most situations. Here we are."

"One question before we go in."

"Oh?" Alison stopped with her hand on the gate.

"You mentioned those who passed quarantine. What about those who fail?"

"They get a single room on D Deck, if there's space, and if their problem is particularly bad. Otherwise we treat them up here."

J Deck had an identical plan to E Deck. Alison introduced Marion to the watch, and they walked to the far end to begin checking the detainees. The Deck was currently half empty, not many women having been convicted of anything recently. A good half of the women were first-timers, and Marion found she had to use a different approach to them compared to the way that those who had served before needed to be treated. Since no-one was let out on the Deck, Marion found the place eerily quiet, and remarked on this to Alison.

"You wait till we go over the other side," she replied. "O Deck, and also T Deck, are laid out the same as these. T Deck's like this one, it's where detainees do solitary if they misbehave elsewhere, but O Deck is where most of the lifers live. Nearly everyone is allowed out, like most of E Deck. It fairly bustles during the day."

"And the other Decks?"

Alison grimaced. "Sophia told me to keep you away from them for now. In her words, you need to be 'toughened up'. It's a reasonable decision, I think. The top Decks of each wing, plus the two Sick Bay Decks, are quiet enough for you to go round on your own, although some of the lifers can get a bit difficult. I wouldn't want to send you downstairs until you've had the Shepherds' training. We all had to go through it when we started here. We'll have a go at O Deck tomorrow, if you like."

"I bow to experience. What do we do next, then?"

"Next, as it happens, is lunch. Let's go and get Sophia."

Over their lunch plates, Marion said to Sophia, "You're not happy pushing forms round, are you?"

"No I'm not!" replied Sophia. "I'm beginning to find the whole thing quite irritating, as though I'm being prevented from doing my job. Which, in a sense, I am. I'm a doctor, not an administrator."

"You have an assistant, I've spoken to her."

"She's no better. She used to be our most senior nurse, she's ended up being my personal assistant."

"Hmm. Do you want to talk to a Counsellor about it?"

Sophia's head came round. "You're serious, aren't you?" She sighed. "You know, that might not be a bad idea. What are you doing this afternoon?"

"Nothing planned. Alison says I need to have some shots."

"Oh! Yes, you do. Normally, if you'd been employed by Sick Bay in the orthodox manner, you'd automatically have had the shots. Alison, is there anything else we might have forgotten where Marion's concerned?"

"There's the Shepherd training, we talked briefly about that this morning. I think there's supposed to be a new intake of Shepherds in a couple of weeks. Perhaps Marion can join them."

Sophia turned to Marion. "Any problem with doing that?"

Marion shrugged. "It needs doing, and I can't function properly until I've done the training, so I'm happy with that."

"Good. Shots after lunch, then, and after that you can come to my office and provide another excuse for me not tackling the paperwork." Sophia grinned at Marion.

Their conversation was halted by the appearance of Belle at their table. She was wearing her outdoor clothes, and something serious had obviously happened to her. Her clothes were covered with dust and her jacket was torn. She had a plaster on her cheek, and another on one side of her neck. Her left hand was wrapped in a bloodstained bandage.

"Belle! What happened?" Marion was up in an instant.

"I'm okay," she replied. Sophia and Alison also stood. "There was an accident. Couple of scratches, is all."

Sophia asked, "Have you eaten yet? I'll come and help you get something."

"Not since breakfast. I'll be back," she said to Marion and Alison, who slowly sat down again.

Belle returned, and was followed by Sophia carrying a plate of sandwiches and a large mug of coffee. They both sat down and Belle took a long draw of the coffee before picking up some food.

"There was a truck alongside the tram I was on at an intersection," she explained between mouthfuls. "I didn't see it myself, I was facing the other way. They say the trucker had to slam on his brakes, and the trailer jackknifed into the side of the tram. First I knew was a loud bang and I got sprayed with glass." She fingered her cheek and neck. "The two sitting opposite me weren't so lucky, the shards were like bullets. I gave them first aid, that's how I got this," she held up her hand, "pulling out glass. Then of course the rescue crews arrived, followed by the Proctors, and and we all stood around for ages answering dumb questions. You know how it goes. To cap it all, the tram was derailed, so the whole line was blocked both ways. I had to get a taxi here in the end."

Sophia gave Belle's face a close look. "The plasters are just about allowable on Deck. You want me to have a good look at you after we've eaten?"

"Yes, please, Director. The first-aiders with the rescue crew were reasonably efficient, but I'd rather have my wounds looked at professionally, if you know what I mean."

Sophia grunted and pointed to her hand. "If we can't tidy that up, you know you won't be able to go on the Deck until it heals. You know bandages are forbidden."

Belle shrugged, her face resigned. "I had to save a life. I realised straight away what would happen when I got here. As it happens, I have two days off after today, so I've a chance to let it heal before coming back to work."

Alison said, "You might be lucky. There may be ways to patch you up that don't involve bandages, so that you could go back to work."

Sophia put in, "Don't prejudge things. Let's wait until we've examined you before deciding what we can permit you to do."

Back in Sick Bay, Alison unwound the bandage and cleaned up Belle's hand. There was a nasty gash to the palm and a cut running almost the whole length of her index finger.

"It was like she'd been stabbed with a glass knife," Belle recalled. "She had this big sliver sticking out of her shoulder. Of course I had to hold it pretty firmly to get it out. It was slippery with blood."

Alison put stitches into Belle's palm and managed to glue some special webbing the length of her finger, but it was obvious that she couldn't work on the Deck for a while. Reluctantly, Belle had to accept that she would not be at work for some time.

"I think I should tell you to stay off for the whole of your next shift period, which means, including your two days off about to start, that you'll be back here to start work again in ten days," Alison said. Belle winced. It wasn't so much that she wanted to work, but that there were other reasons for being round the facility, one of them standing watching the patching up process.

"Do you want me to keep away from here for the whole of that time?" she asked.

"Why, thinking of taking a holiday? No, I think I want to see you a couple of times in that period, if you don't mind, to check your dressings. There. That will stop you leaking all over my floor." Alison had put a new, clean, and much tidier bandage over Belle's hand to stop the residual bleeding. "I suppose you'd better call your Senior Shepherd, hadn't you? You might as well use Marion's terminal."

Marion and Belle turned to leave, but Alison added, "Not you, Marion. Shots, remember?"

Belle was still sitting at Marion's desk when Marion limped back into the office.

"You look distinctly uncomfortable," Belle said.

"And so would you, if you'd just had done to you what those barbarians did to me," responded Marion. "They must specially teach doctors at medical school how to make shots so painful. Especially in the rear. Mind you, Alison was trying to be as gentle as she could. Get hold of Elena okay?"

"Yes, she understood, they'll have to get someone from the pool to cover for me. Do you mind if I stay here this afternoon? There's a little work I can do from here, and I can just about use the keyboard. Not to mention, I've had four calls for your services since I've been sitting here. You do need some help, don't you? I don't think you're going to manage this all on your own."

"That's why I was hoping to co-opt Talya. I do the Decks, she does the paperwork, and it doesn't cost the facility anything, because she'd be a Trusty."

"Do you think Talya's the right sort of person for this job? I know what these terminals are capable of."

"I think she'll do fine. After all, she just got infatuated with a man, it's not as if that never happened to anybody else I know," Marion said, casting a glance at Belle, who coloured.

"I give in. Do you want some help at the moment, then? As it happens, I've a few days free." Belle waved her bandaged hand.

"No, I'm not going to try and override Alison. Especially not since I have some more shots in a couple of days. You go home, you could do with a break."

Belle's face fell. "I won't see you for ten days," she said quietly. "Will you be all right?"

"No," replied Marion promptly. "But Elena's going to make sure I'm looked after. Actually, there's supposed to be someone from Site Security coming over to the apartment to look at the monitors. I'd better call, no, I've got to see Sophia. Why don't you call Donna for me and find out what's happening with that? Then, I think, you'd better go home."

Belle's face fell again.

"Look," said Marion, "I'll come and visit you while you're off, how's that? I'm sure you don't need both hands for what you have in mind."

Belle's face promptly brightened. "I'll take that as a promise. I'll call you one evening to set something up." She waved her hand in a shooing motion. "Off you go, I'll sort out Donna for you."

Marion knocked on Sophia's door and entered. Sophia, as usual, was busy with something inscrutable on her terminal. Her eyes flicked up and took in Marion, and she leaned back in her seat with a sigh.

"Do have a seat, won't you?" She gestured towards the chairs facing her desk.

"Ah, I think I'll stand, if you don't mind," Marion said.

"Oh, of course. What did you have?"

"Two in the left arm, one in the right, and one here," she pointed to her left buttock. "I've another two in two days time."

"Yes. It's not funny when it's your turn, is it? Still, you've seen the sort of people we have in here, so you know that these shots are necessary. Now, what was it you wanted to see me about?"

"Actually, I wanted to see you, in a semi-official capacity. Why don't you tell me all about it?"

Sophia sighed again, and began to talk about her current job. Marion thought she was greatly daring to attempt to offer advice and support to what was upper management, but she had determined to try and find out what her limits were, if she could.

So the two talked for over an hour about the state of medicine, what was right and what was wrong in the facility, how the systems always seemed to work perfectly except when you needed them to, and many other matters. The appearance of the tea trolley made them realise just how long they had been going at it.

"I must say," said Sophia as she sipped, "I'm glad I forced myself to have this chat. It's made me reassess my current position a little more objectively. I discovered something else important, as well. You," she jabbed a forefinger in Marion's direction, "are just as good as they say you are. I was amazed how easily you got me to open up. And I'm supposed to be the professional in these matters."

"You're not so bad yourself, Sophia. But you're not able to do your job properly while you're bogged down with this nonsense." Marion waved a hand at the terminal. "You're a doctor, not an administrator. This job is not what you trained for. You need help here."

Sophia nodded. "I know, and I'm trying to find a way to make it work. In some ways it's a pity that you made a bid for Talya before I thought of it." She made a dismissive gesture. "Leave that for now, I'll give it some thought in the next few days. What about yourself? You said you had trouble coming in this morning."

"Yes, Belle was going to walk me in, it was hard going on my own. It's to be expected, I'm sure I'll improve over the next few days."

"Are you two an item?"

Marion knew that her manager would have to be informed of such liaisons. "Yes," she said, finally admitting it to herself. "She stayed at my transitional apartment the first few days I was out. Is there some special reason for asking?"

"I'm not blind, you know, even though I'm currently overworked. I've seen the way you look at one another. Alison's signed her off for the next ten days. I want you to synchronise your shift pattern with hers, so you have the same days off. And I want you to have two or three days off during the next cycle, while she's also off, so that you can spend time with her. It will do you both a lot of good. You need an anchor to help you connect with the big, bad world, and she needs something to keep her occupied. She mothering you?"

Marlon coloured. "Yes, a little. I needed it to start with, I probably still do, I don't mind that so much considering what a complicated mess I've got myself into. I think it will go farther." If my body will let me. "I hope so, anyway, and she's quite keen."

"She's a good woman, and I'm glad she chose to spend her time at our Facility." Sophia started to say something else, but then thought better of it. Instead, she said, "I know that you'll each be in capable hands with one another. Are you sure this is going to be the right thing for you? You may be someone else in six months time."

"We both recognise that. She said she knew what might happen, and she'd stick by me. Obviously, time will tell."

"Well, if you need someone to talk to, privately, about anything, you know whose door to knock on."

"Someone else stealing my lines! Thank you, Sophia, both for talking and for listening. Perhaps we'd better go and do some work now."

"Oh, I think we've been working, all right. But you're right, it's time to pretend we know what we're doing." She winked, and Marion waved before returning to her own office.

Marion had an immediate problem, and she solved that by pulling her own chair out of the way and borrowing one of the visitor's chairs. By perching her unviolated buttock on the edge, she was just about able - uncomfortably - to work at her terminal. She had accumulated a number of requests from detainees during the few days she had been working, and she wanted to see what she could make of some of them.

There were, for example, numbers of detainees with children. Of those who didn't have fathers available, Social Services had taken the children in, and it was entirely likely that the mother would not regain custody when she was released. Of those with fathers, some were standing by their women, but finding the going difficult. Others had simply halted any communication with the children's mother, and the mothers had asked Marion if she could help locate them. Other detainees had debt problems which obviously couldn't be reduced while they remained in the facility, but they were still being pressed for repayment. Others still faced possible threats of various kinds from both inside and outside the facility. Suddenly, Marion understood the enormity of the task she had volunteered for.

She hadn't got very far, however, before her concentration was interrupted by another visitor. She was slim, blonde with a pony tail and amazing blue eyes, was dressed in a jumpsuit of Shepherd grey, and seemed absurdly young to be working in a Containment Facility.

"Service! You must be Counsellor Hillier. I'm Special Technician Trish Flanagan, Director Khiskov asked me to have a look at the systems in your apartment block." The young girl leaned forward and offered her hand. "Am I interrupting something? I can wait, if you like."

Marion levered herself up and shook Trish's hand. "Call me Marion, please. No, my day has been well destroyed already. Do have a seat."

Trish looked concerned. "You're injured? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to stand."

"No, it's okay, I've just had some of my shots. I'm assured that the pain will subside."

"Oh, I know, they're not pleasant, are they? Oh," she added apologetically, "would you mind very much?"

"I'm sorry?" Marion was puzzled, then realised that Trish wanted to see her dress, so came out from behind her desk. Trish surveyed her with a wistful look in her eye.

"Ever since I saw you in the canteen wearing that I wondered if there was a way I could wangle one of those for work," she said. "During the day, I mostly sit in front of a bank of displays monitoring everything that goes on inside the facility," she explained, "but sometimes I have to go and fix something, which is why I have to wear this," she indicated her one-piece outfit. "It's a shame, that dress looks brilliant." She considered. "Hmm, no. If I was just monitoring, it would be okay for the day shift. In the evenings, that's when Jenny and I - she's my shift companion - going round and do the maintenance, while everyone's under lock-down, I have to wear the jump-suit. But I can't guarantee I won't be asked to climb a ladder or pull a cable during the day, so, no, I don't think I could get away with it." Trish briefly looked disgruntled, but then flashed a sunny smile. "Never mind, that's life. I should be more concerned with your problem."

Marion indicated a seat, and regarded her visitor. She reminded Marion of a exotic bird, never still, her pony tail swinging with every slight movement of her head, her eyes darting all over the office, her energy readily apparent.

"I don't know how much you know about me," Marion started, "but I've actually been a detainee in here for six months or so, up on E Deck."

"Oh, I know about all that," said Trish, "I reviewed your file before I came up here, to get some background on what was going on. It was me who went through the video logs when the Proctor found out that Director Pannal wanted to make off with you. I know who you are, and I know what you are. And," she added with another big smile, "I thoroughly approve. Not that my approval means anything, you understand. I happen to think you're a natural, and you make a fine woman, if you don't mind me saying so. I'm sure I would have great difficulty if someone suddenly switched my gender on me without my say-so."

"Thank you, Trish, your approval does mean a lot to me. Despite appearances, it's not been at all easy doing this, I can assure you. Now, to business. The first day I went to the apartment..." Marion described all that had happened since she had taken the apartment. Trish listened attentively, nodding at the end.

"There's not much to go on, is there, but it doesn't sound quite right, even to me. The fact that the building can't be reached remotely means something's wrong. I wonder what he's up to?" she mused. "Okay. What time does your day end? Are you counted as office staff, or what?"

"I'm supposed to be working Sick Bay shifts, but I haven't managed it so far. Nobody seems to be too bothered at the moment, as I'm still feeling my way into the job. Also," Marion added, "feeling my way into being a woman. So, I'm supposed to be here till about six, but if you wanted to leave earlier, we could. I'll just have to contact E Deck, they were going to provide me an escort when their shift ended."

Trish looked cautious. "What kind of escort did you need? Just moral support, or did you want muscle? You'll need a Shepherd if you want muscle, and I'm not a Shepherd."

"Aren't you? I did wonder, seeing your pony tail. What sort of job do you normally do, then?"

"I mentioned, during the day, I monitor the various video pickups from the central control room. I also oversee most of the data processing equipment in the facility. Jenny and I also get to do maintenance on all the pickups and terminals in the facility. If there's a problem, I go out and fix whatever's wrong, but I can't go anywhere where detainees are. The Laundry, Stores and Kitchen are all right, as that's only trusties. If it's something on the Decks, then we have to wait till lockdown to go and sort it out. If it's in a detainee's room, she gets moved to somewhere else for the night, she never sees us."

"You work all hours, then?"

"No, it's a three shift system, eight till four, four till midnight and midnight till eight. Four days on, then four off, then we move to the next slot. I've not long finished my day shift, which was why I came up to see you."

Marion remembered yesterday's encounter with the Proctor. "I think I do need some muscle. Do you mind? I don't object to having more than one escort. I don't want to keep you if you'd rather go early, though."

Trish waved a dismissive hand. "I'll wait, it's not too long now anyway. Do you mind me being here?"

"Not at all." Marion made herself as comfortable as she could, and smiled. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

Trish liked the sound of her own voice, and the two were still having an animated conversation when Kristina appeared with a strange Shepherd in tow at the end of their shift.

"Service, Marion. This is Diana, she's standing in for Belle till her hand gets better."

"Service, Diana. This is Trish, who's coming with us to have a look at something in my apartment," Marion indicated the young girl. "Give me a second to close down what I was doing when Trish walked in, and then we can go and change."

The four women reconvened outside the Locker Room. Marion and Kristina had pastel t-shirts and flared skirts, Marion had her denim jacket whilst Kristina had a faux-leather black biker-style jacket. Diana had a very short straight denim skirt with a frayed hem topped by a short, western style plaid shirt. She had her denim jacket slung by a finger over her shoulder. Trish by contrast wore a low-slung t-shirt over bleached cargo pants, cut off just below the knee. Her pony tail was fed through the hole at the back of her baseball cap, and she had a backpack slung over one shoulder.

"I probably shouldn't ask," said Kristina as they marched out of the building, "but is this to do with that toad of a building supervisor?" She looked at Trish as she said it.

"It is," Trish admitted, "but we're trying to gather information without alerting him, so it's best not to talk about it outside of the facility. It's not as if we'd find it difficult to talk about anything else now, is it?"

"You're right there. Tell me, how do you get away with having a pony tail? I thought that long hair was forbidden to all staff."

Trish explained that she worked very much behind the scenes, and was not allowed contact with detainees other than trusties.

"How did you get this job, then?" asked Diana. "You seem a bit young to be doing what you do."

"I'm what they call a tech witch," replied Trish. "I love mechanical things, finding out how they work, pulling them apart and putting them together. Used to drive my dad crazy when I was younger. People like me get profiled at school and sent to special colleges to make most of our talents. I got assigned to the facility when I graduated. It's got enough happening in it to stop me getting bored."

The attention of the four women was distracted as the Proctor and his men appeared from between two of the apartment blocks on the other side of the street, and they automatically slowed. He saw them, and gave a small wave which clearly indicated that he was not interested in them.

"What's he doing round here?" asked Kristina. "We don't usually see them this close to the facility."

"Belle and I got stopped by him yesterday," said Marion. "Once he found out where we worked, he lost interest. I haven't heard of any trouble round here, have any of you?"

They reached Marion's block, and she let them in to her apartment.

"Do you have time for a drink?" she asked the two Shepherds. "Uh, thinking about it, I'm going to have to ask a favour of one of you. Would someone mind coming up to the shop with me? I have to get some things, bread and milk being the most urgent."

"I'll do it," Diana volunteered. "I live in the next block up, so it's no problem for me. In fact, if we stop off in my place on the way past, I'll check what I need and we can both shop at the same time. I'll bring you back here afterwards. That be okay with you?"

"Time for a drink first, I think," said Kristina, "then I'd better be going. I'll walk up to the main road with you two, though."

"Actually, that will work out just right," added Trish, "providing you don't mind me being left here in your apartment." She looked significantly at the other three, who understood that she didn't want to say more until she was sure they weren't being overheard. It also meant that she could conduct her investigations in the apartment without revealing any of her special tools and methods to the others.

Marion, Kristina and Diana walked into Diana's block, and the difference was immediately noticeable.

"I guess this is how my block is supposed to look," Marion said. "This is not bad, but compared to it mine is noticeably run down. Are there any vacancies here?"

"Heh. I grant you it's well-kept, but there's still a certain stigma attached to living in one of these," Diana replied. "I was somewhat shocked when we walked into yours, though. Run down doesn't begin to describe it. Here we are."

Diana let them into her pad, and Marion's eyes narrowed as she noticed the differences in the decoration, the furniture and the general state of Diana's apartment compared to her own. Diana quickly opened her kitchen cupboards and fridge and made notes on her datapad before collecting a shopping bag and ushering her companions out again.

"Sorry it's a short visit, but we don't want to hold Kristina up," she explained as they left. "If you want to come over some time, we could have a meal together," she offered to Marion. "Sometimes you need a bit of peace after a hard day at the office, so to speak, but other times I wouldn't object to some company."

"I'd like that," Marion said, "although I'm mainly dependant on what Belle's doing at the moment, she's not going to be at work for a while, so I might take you up on that offer in a day or two."

Kristina said goodbye at the top of the street and went to catch her tram, while Marion and Diana entered the shop and filled their baskets with essentials. Leaving the shop, Marion had a medium-sized bag in each hand, while the more solidly-built Diana had a much larger bag in one hand. They began the walk back.

Marion became aware of the patter of footsteps, but the action was half over before her brain had registered them. She received a violent shove in the small of her back and went sprawling, her bags flying as she tried to break her fall. At her side, someone made a grab at Diana's shoulder bag as they went running past. However, Diana had heard the footsteps and prepared herself. As the strap left her shoulder, she took a larger step forward and turned slightly. The would-be thief failed to encounter the expected resistance and was thrown off-balance. Diana quickly wrapped her hand through the loop of her bag and heaved, pulling the young man off his feet, and he swung abruptly to one side. She grabbed the hand by which he had caught hold of her bag and twisted it as he staggered to the side, unbalancing him. As he fell, she twisted further and there was a distinct crack. He screamed.

His two friends had begun to bend down to relieve Marion of her bags, but stopped at the intense nature of the scream their companion had made. They immediately went to his assistance, but Diana had already twisted his arm up behind his back and driven him to his knees.

"Stop right there!" she shouted. "I'll pull his arm off if you don't!"

The two young boys stopped, but hands went towards belts, where each had a knife.

"Don't even think about it," Diana warned, tweaking her captive's arm so that he screamed again. "Get rid of the hardware," she ordered, "carefully." The two youths froze. One took a step back towards Marion, who was attempting to stand.

"Touch my friend and yours will be crippled for life, I promise it," Diana warned. "I'll teach you to fuck with a pair of Shepherds." She twisted again, with the expected result. "His shoulder's dislocated," she said, "we train all the time to deal with sweepings like you. Now, lose the hardware!"

"Do it!" the captive screamed. "Just do it!"

The boys' faces had whitened when they discovered that they were not just dealing with a pair of ordinary women laden with shopping bags, easy prey. The knife each was carrying was carefully pulled from its sheath and tossed to one side.

"Now, on the ground, face down. Hands on your necks, fingers linked." She emphasised her commands with another slight twist of the arm she still held. "Not you. You stay kneeling just where I want you to be. Marion."

Marion dusted herself off and approached. "Yes? You want me to call?"

"Use my communicator, it's in the inside left of my jacket. Speed dial four."

Marion pulled out the unfamiliar item and squinted at it in the gathering dusk before pushing the correct buttons.

"You don't have to say anything," Diana said when Marion held the communicator up to her ear. "It's a special program that alerts the nearest Proctor to home in on my position. Damn."

The last word was spoken when her captive fainted, probably from the pain, and fell to the ground in a heap. Diana had perforce to let go of his arm to prevent further injury. The other two youths had got back up to their knees during the distraction, but Diana spoke to them, in a voice which oozed with implacability.

"Think you can outrun me? No chance. The first one I catch, I'll break his leg to stop him getting away, then I'll go after the other one. Get back down, like I told you to."

It seemed a long time before the Proctor arrived with his men as the sky visibly darkened, but it was probably less than a minute. Diana had moved to stand over the two uninjured youths, while Marion was near the third, his arm obviously dislocated. The two Enforcers spread out and covered the whole group with what appeared to be heavy-duty stun wands. Marion didn't want to find out the exact details.

"Stand clear, citizens. Now, who called?"

"I did," said Marion, holding the communicator up high.

"Explain."

"We're on our way home from the corner shop. These three jumped us and attempted to steal our bags."

The Proctor could see Marion's bags, still spilled on the ground. He approached the two women, apparently satisfied as to the turn of events.

"Secure those two," he instructed his men. "What happened to this one?"

"The citizen dislocated his shoulder. I don't think you can secure his hands with that injury," Marion added.

Diana spoke. "They might be able to put it back in the Facility, but I don't know how well the Sick Bay is staffed in the evenings."

"You both work in the Facility?"

"We do, Proctor," she replied.

The Proctor looked cautiously at the two women. If one of them could do this damage, he had to be careful, even if he was holding a weapon and they weren't.

"Your cards, citizens. You first," he spoke to Diana. Marion was still holding Diana's communicator with one hand, so couldn't reach hers. "Thank you, Shepherd Poulsen. Now yours," he instructed Marion. "You may put that away, carefully," he said, indicating the communicator. Marion walked over and cautiously handed it back to Diana before opening her bag so that the Proctor could pull her card.

"Counsellor Hillier," he said, handing back the card. He held up a finger and then keyed the mike on his headset, asking for a wagon and some first aid. The Enforcers had cuffed the two youths and dragged them to their feet, where they stood looking distinctly scared. "Right. I need a verbal report from each of you on what happened here," he said to the women.

The two vehicles arrived and carted off their respective cargoes, leaving the two women, the Proctor and his two men standing under a street lamp. Marion had retrieved her bags, and had decided that she would have to return to the shop and replace spilt milk, broken eggs and a split bag of sliced bread.

"Are those three what you've been patrolling around here for, Proctor?" Diana asked. "We've noticed the increased activity lately."

"We had reports of street robberies in the area. I don't know if those three were responsible for all of the reports. You'll be seeing us around for a while." He grimaced. "Those three must be new around here. Didn't know not to tangle with Shepherds."

"Think they came off one of the estates?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? They didn't have ID so it'll be a job finding out who they are and where they came from."

"Couldn't you follow them using the street monitors?" Marion asked.

"That would let us know where they were," the Proctor replied, "but it wouldn't stop any robberies. Besides, quite a number of the pickups aren't working around here." He grimaced again. "I didn't tell you that, understand? Now, citizens, it's time we carried on our patrol. Service to you."

Marion and Diana returned to the shop and replaced damaged goods with fresh, and then walked slowly back to Diana's apartment.

"Look, do you want me to come back with you?" she asked Marion. "It's not safe out there, and it seems silly for both of us to be cooking single meals in our own apartments when we could both have some company. It's not as if we live kilometres apart, is it?"

Marion hesitated, as it was Diana inviting herself over, rather than Marion issuing the invitation, but there seemed to be little to be concerned about.

"I don't see why not. I can't stay at your place, because there's Trish still waiting for me at mine. Yes, please join me. I'm sure we can sort out a meal between us."

When Marion opened the door of her apartment and entered with Diana, it was quickly apparent that Trish had done whatever she needed to, as she was sitting on the settee watching the video display in the corner of the living room. Trish got up quickly when she saw Marion's mussed hair and dishevelled clothing.

"Whatever happened? You only went to the shop!"

"Three unregistereds tried to rob us on the way back," explained Diana laconically. "Didn't get very far."

"I'm all right," added Marion. "Just scraped my hands and knees when they pushed me over." She raised an eyebrow at Trish.

"Eh? Oh, yes! It's okay to talk. I've managed to get into the building system and pulled out a complete copy of the files, I'll look at them tomorrow at work. But have a look at this." She walked to the front door and pulled open a concealed panel behind it.

"See, all the wiring's been disconnected," she continued. "Apart from the video and your terminal, nothing worked in here. That means he can't have been monitoring you, though what he was doing, I can't imagine. I'll leave that to the experts to figure out."

Trish shut the panel and walked back to the settee. Picking up her backpack, she pulled out a small purse with a shoulder strap and looped it diagonally over her head and arm.

"I wonder, would you mind if I left my stuff here? I don't want to take it all the way home and then have to bring it back in, some of the kit's sensitive, and it's all expensive. I'll call in tomorrow morning and pick it up on my way in. I ought to be going, I'm way late for dinner."

"That's okay with me. You're leaving? How are you getting home?" Marion asked.

"I'll have to get a taxi, it's obviously gotten a little too dangerous around here to be waiting for a tram."

"Look, if you're getting a taxi, you might as well stay here and eat with us, and get a taxi later. How does that sound?"

Trish thought for a moment, then said, "Done. I'll call my mother and let her know."

The three women cobbled together and ate a meal, spending the whole time talking nineteen to the dozen. Marion had to recount her story once more, despite the fact that Trish already knew all the details. They also talked about the attempted robbery.

"Would you really have chased them and caught both of them?" Marion asked Diana.

"Probably not," admitted Diana. "I'd certainly have caught one, but of course if the other had run off in the opposite direction, he'd have got away. The threat was enough to stop him, though. It's a question of delivery, of tone of speech. If you can convince them you mean it, it'll make them think twice, and that's usually enough to stop them doing something stupid."

"Is this Shepherd training?"

Diana nodded. "They do teach you things like that, but some of us can make it seem more natural than others. You've not been in the job long enough to do the training, then?"

"Um. Firstly, I'm not supposed to be a Shepherd, but yes, I'll be doing at least some of the training when the next batch arrives."

Diana and Trish had gone home, and Marion climbed into bed and touched off the light, pulling her quilt over herself. She still found it disconcerting, as she lay back on the pillow, that her new breasts tried to migrate round to her armpits. It was interesting, trying to adapt to a new body shape. In the darkness, she thought back over her event-filled day. I didn't call Belle. Tomorrow will do. Diana's casual, brutal efficiency in dealing with the three young men disturbed her. Is Belle like that? I don't know, I've only seen her in action on E Deck, where she didn't need to be tough with the detainees. I remember, someone said that the E Deck Shepherds had special training. No, Belle's not like that, although I think she could be if the situation demanded it. She's never been rough around me, quite the opposite. Eventually, Marion's brain quietened down and she drifted off to sleep.