With a revised uniform, Marion tries out her skills on a new Deck. She also begins to find out more about Belle.

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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.

When Marion's eyes flicked open, what she saw was Belle's sleeping face. Marion lay there for a minute or so as she came to full wakefulness, and then raised herself up on one elbow to regard Belle. You're the real deal, she thought. How can I possibly hope to even imitate that? You've had femaleness instilled into you since before you were even born, and I have to do it the hard way. Not for the first time, Marion wondered whether she had made the right choice. I can't go on or go back without surgery, so perhaps the best place to be is where I am. I don't have to buy into being a complete female, just enough of one to be accepted by the world at large. Inside, at the moment, I'm definitely still male. That male is quite strongly attracted - mentally - by Belle, even though my body doesn't seem too bothered just yet. I thought she was quite attractive when I first met her, but I had other more pressing problems then.

Marion examined Belle's face. Dark brown hair framed a strong face, with a neat nose, full lips, smooth clear skin and a delicate chin. The eyes, currently closed, were a light brown complimenting her hair. Small, perfectly formed ears were partly hidden under the short hair, disarranged now as she lay on the pillow.

And what does she see in me? I guess I know why she was attracted at first, but I'm not the same person as I was then, in many respects. Does she see me as someone to be protected? Is the attraction just physical, or what? Am I a project to her, to be fixed up and then left on my own? Is she possessive? I know that lesbians sometimes have a stronger partner and a more compliant partner, is that the way she sees our relationship? I also know that Shepherds have to be pretty strong-minded types, so is she trying to impose herself on me? I know she says she isn't, but she may not realise what she's doing. And, to be fair, what she's done so far has been exactly right. She's been just what I needed to get me through the last couple of weeks. Belle Marchand, you're just what I need at the moment, whatever the reason.

Marion leant forward and kissed Belle gently on the forehead. Belle stirred, but did not wake. Marion looked at the mounds of her breasts, rising and falling slowly under her nightdress as she breathed. I wonder if mine are going to end up like that. The ones I've got now, while still smallish, are making sleeping awkward, and I'm beginning to notice balance issues. I don't think I'll mind having larger ones, since I've got the things anyhow, but I don't think I'll be very happy if they get too large.

Marion kissed Belle again, and this time she opened her eyes to see Marion regarding her.

"Good morning, dearest," Marion said, and meant it.

Belle roused, and began to stretch. "What's got into you this morning?" she asked. "You seem very -"

Marion leaned down and kissed Belle full on the lips, and her arms grabbed Belle in a tight embrace. After a while they came up for air, and Belle looked quizzically at Marion.

"Thank you, Belle, for being here when I needed you. Thank you for looking after me. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for everything."

Belle coloured, and said, "What did I do to deserve this? Not that I'm objecting, you understand."

"I've got a good woman looking after me, that's all. It's what I need right now, and you're doing all the right things, even if I don't necessarily understand why. Just keep on doing it, that's all I ask," Marion replied.

Belle smiled. "In that case, since you ask, I will. Now, did you have other plans, or should we be going to work?"

Marion turned over and picked up her datapad to look at the time. "Oh! Yes, we have to get up. I didn't realise what the time was."

The two women got up, bathed, dressed, ate breakfast and left the apartment for the short walk to the facility. Marion wanted to get in promptly so that she could get her new dress from Stores and be at her desk in good time. She left Belle at the entrance to the locker room and walked directly into Stores.

"Service, Miranda."

"Service, Marion. You look in good spirits this morning."

"I've been counting my blessings. I work with such good people."

"Thank you for the compliment." She smiled. "You can compliment me any time you like. I expect you've come for the dress? It seems to be okay, obviously you'll have to try it on."

Miranda fetched the dress from somewhere out back and passed it to Marion, who promptly stripped where she stood and pulled it on. Six months in the facility had cured her of any privacy considerations, even though she had been more reticent on her recent shopping trips.

"That looks good," remarked Miranda. "It really suits you, and I think it's going to give exactly the effect you wanted it to. As I had to set up a new program, I decided to use a different template for the pattern, so it's a little more shapely than the detainee's ones are. Here's your new datapad, the pocket for it is on your right hip."

"I noticed that when I put it on. It doesn't show at all, does it?"

"No, but once you pull the datapad out everyone's going to know it's there, so you can't consider it as concealed storage," Miranda warned. "You'll also have noticed the pocket on the left side, I decided it might be useful to have a matching pocket for your communicator, if you decide to carry one. Of course, they're not permitted on the Decks, but are allowed around the offices and Sick Bay. Do you want me to make you another dress? Uniform is usually two of everything."

Marion thought. "Can we leave it for today? As it's a new design, there's things we may need to adjust. I'll call or send you a message before I leave tonight, okay?"

Miranda nodded. "Yes, of course. What are you doing?" she added as Marion took the dress off and put her outdoor clothes on again.

"I'm not going to be messed about by Site Security this time," she said. "I'll go and change in the locker room as I would normally do."

Miranda showed Marion the special features of the datapads used in the facility before she walked back through to the locker room and changed again. By now, she had memorised her locker number, and changing was straightforward. She got a few odd glances from others in there with her, but no-one challenged her like the previous evening. Putting her datapad in her pocket, and clicking her disc round her neck, she walked across the space in front of the canteen to the gate which led through the fence and let herself through.

"Ah, Counsellor?" It was the Site Security Shepherd who had been there when she had tried to leave for lunch with Sophia the previous day.

"Service, Shepherd?"

The woman was nodding. "If I may say so, Counsellor, much better. What you had on yesterday wasn't a good idea, what you're wearing today is much, much better. I don't think we'll be giving you any more problems if you're to be dressed like that."

"Why thank you, Shepherd." She smiled at the woman and headed for the lifts.

Marion walked into Sophia's office and stood in front of the desk. Sophia was busy with the usual deluge of bureaucratic messages which hits every desk every morning, and it was a second or two before she looked up.

"Marion! Service. That looks nice, where on earth did you get it from?"

"Service, Sophia. Talya thought up the colour scheme, and Miranda in Stores tinkered with the big machine to produce it. What do you think?"

Sophia cocked her head. "Obvious, when I think of it. Only way to find out if it works on the Decks is to test it. Alison is going to be doing the Sick Bay wards today, I've asked her to take you with her. She'll call for you in about twenty minutes or so, which should give you time to dispose of some of the morning garbage." She gestured towards her screen.

"I take your meaning, Director, and I won't keep you from yours any longer. See you for lunch?"

"Yes, of course."

Marion walked to her own office and spent some minutes clearing the backlog of messages, most of which were of general distribution and concerned things she had no present interest in. After some time a tall slender woman with short blonde hair entered the office.

"Service. You must be Counsellor Marion, I presume? I'm Doctor Alison Beckerman, but call me Alison, please." She held out her hand, and Marion shook it. "I understand you're to accompany me on my rounds this morning."

"Yes, please. It seems to me to be a safe way of getting to visit the Decks, so that people get introduced to me, and I find out what conditions are like."

"Well, I can do that for you, but it's going to slow things down if you have to be accompanied everywhere by one of us."

"No, the idea is just to get me used to them and them used to me. Once they've seen me, I'll be attempting my own rounds. If there's someone with me, it may inhibit people from talking freely." Marion shut down her terminal, stood up and came round the desk.

"Ah, that makes sense, and also explains your interesting outfit. Well, then, shall we go?"

The two women walked out of Sick Bay, and along the central corridor for that floor. When they got to the end, they turned left, but Alison stopped to explain the set-up to Marion.

"In here's D Deck, which is to say, the normal place where hospitalised detainees are held. We also have I Deck, which is through that door there," she pointed off to the right. "The detainees in there are all drug addicts of one sort or another who are being helped off their habit. They're technically under the charge of Sick Bay as well. Do you want to have a look in there?"

"I'm happy to go wherever you need to go, Doctor. I don't want to upset your routine any more than I have to." Marion paused. "That's I Deck? I thought that I Deck was," she counted up on her fingers, "five decks above where we are now. What's with the funny numbering, or is that a special case, or what?"

"'Or what' is probably nearer the truth," replied Alison dryly. "Every person who joins the staff here asks the same question. Nobody knows, is the official answer, but most people reckon it's some kind of petty bureaucracy gone mad. This building has two wings on each side of the central core where the Sick Bay and the admin offices are, and somebody obviously thought that if all four wings were called D Deck, or whatever, as well as the core, it would confuse people. So instead they decided to confuse people worse by giving each Deck in each wing a different letter. However, Decks A to E have the same letter as the central core just to make certain the labelling system is completely inconsistent. Over there is Decks F to J, on the other side of the core the Decks run from K to O and P to T. You'll get used to it - eventually."

"I'm not sure I believe you. It's not - natural. D Deck it is, then, and if we've time this morning, we'll have a look at I Deck."

They went through the gate, and walked along the corridor to the watch station. Marion noted that the watch station seemed to be more complex than the E Deck one. Of course, she realised, there are probably medical monitors here as well.

"Morning all," Alison said to the six people seated at the watch station. "With me is a new face in the facility, who Sophia says is going to make a difference to everyone's quality of life. This is Counsellor Marion. She's going to come round with me initially, to find out what goes on everywhere, and to get her face seen on the Decks."

Several of the women nodded. One said, "Service, Counsellor."

"Service, all. Alison here may be making me out to be something I'm not," said Marion. "You'll have to let me find my feet before I can think about achieving much. I haven't got a system set up yet, as this is a new, experimental idea, so don't be surprised if one or two things don't work out quite as any of us expect."

"Understood, Counsellor," replied the woman who had spoken before. "My name's Felicia Gomez, I'm the Senior Shepherd for the Deck, and these are Diana, Maartje, Beth, Tina and Francesca. Those three are qualified nurses who have become Shepherds, Diana, Maartje and me are Shepherds who have also done a bit of nursing. In practice, there's not a lot of difference. Where do you want to start, Doc? Far end as usual?"

"Yes, we'll run through as usual. Any problems overnight?"

"Nothing the night shift thought worth mentioning at changeover."

Before Alison took Marion through the gate into the far end, Marion said to the Shepherds, "Do call me Marion. And I'm available for you to talk to me as well as the detainees, if you want to have a chat about anything."

D Deck was laid out somewhat similar to E Deck, but the rooms were much bigger, since the beds in them were proper hospital beds, with access both sides. Around half of the rooms were doubles. There was an exercise room and a detainee lounge in each half of the Deck, but no treatment room since the patients could be treated in their own beds. The patients were a complete cross-section, some having diseases picked up before being arrested, some with injuries inflicted before, during or after arrest, two with cancer in various stages, a heart patient, and two women who had early pregnancies which had run into difficulties. Marion said hello to all of them and explained to each what she was hoping to do, an explanation which was starting to get tedious by the time they reached the last room with a patient in it.

"Not to worry," said Alison cheerfully, "the bush telegraph will make sure your name and intentions get broadcast around the facility. That highly distinctive dress of yours will make it plain who you are, as well. You won't have to make yourself hoarse explaining to everyone, I can assure you." She looked at Marion speculatively. "It was interesting. We didn't spend a lot of time with anyone, we don't have time to, but I think you were well received. It will be interesting to see how your presence here affects things."

"I don't know about affecting things," Marion replied. "I've already had requests to talk to four of the patients. I think I might come back after we've done I Deck, and have a chat with everyone at my own pace. Did you want to take me anywhere else, today?"

"No, I'm fine with that. Sophia said you were trying to develop a technique, and D Deck is probably the best place to do it. We'll go and have a look at the junkies, and by then it will be lunchtime, so you can come back here after lunch."

I Deck was an odd sort of place. While it had an identical arrangement of rooms to D Deck, the beds were simple steel frames bolted to the floor and there was no medical equipment to be seen anywhere. Each half of the Deck had the usual lounge and exercise room, and one of the single rooms had been converted into a treatment room and pharmacy. Nearly all of the 'patients' were mobile, and most seemed to hang out in the lounges. There were only four Shepherds on duty here during the day, although all were trained nurses as well. There was a curious undercurrent in the atmosphere that Marion couldn't identify. She spent some time getting acquainted with the staff and detainees until lunchtime arrived.

Marion and Alison returned to Sick Bay proper and prised Sophia away from her communicator and terminal. The three of them took the lift down to the canteen, which was reached without anyone taking much notice of Marion apart from the odd narrowed glance. She found it fascinating to listen to the two doctors discuss various problems of the patients, and indeed of other detainees who had problems requiring their attention. They also talked generally about conditions in the other areas of the facility.

After lunch Marion returned on her own to D Deck, and after talking briefly to the Shepherds, walked up to the far end and began visiting the patients one by one. It was nearly five by the time she walked back to the watch station.

"You've certainly been thorough," remarked Felicia as Marion approached. "I don't think any of us could have got that much conversation out of some of our charges. Want a drink? You've been on the go for four hours, now."

"Certainly," Marion replied. "But first, where does a girl go to the bathroom round here? I don't think I can just pop into one of the rooms, can I?"

Felicia laughed. "Right this way, Counsellor." She led the way to the emergency stairs and opened the door, and the two stepped through onto the landing. On the left, stairs went down and up. On the right were two doors. "The far one's the bathroom, this one's a mini kitchen for on-shift drinks and snacks. I'll make you a drink while you're in there. Coffee all right?"

"Fine, thanks." Marion paid a visit to the small bathroom and accepted a mug from Felicia when she returned.

"This is a bit of a surprise, but I suppose you have to have something when the shifts are so long. Food preparation as well?"

"We don't use that, the canteen supplies everything we need, but the canteen shuts down at night for cleaning. The night shift are allowed to bring their own food in and cook it here. We can get away with that at night because everyone's locked in. Well, usually, of course. This being part of Sick Bay, patients get problems at night as well as during the day."

"Of course. Can we take these drinks back to the station?"

"Yes, of course." Felicia led the way back to the others. "Find out much of interest in your conversations? Or shouldn't I ask you that?"

"Be a bit difficult, seeing as how you can monitor everything that goes on. There are one or two things I want to talk to you about, as it happens." Marion looked at the other Shepherds.

"We did listen to one or two of your conversations, to start with," said Felicia, "but decided to leave you in peace. We were surprised how readily you got some of them to talk, though. Most of them have a quite strong 'us and them' attitude."

"That's why I wanted a different uniform," said Marion. "It seems to do the job, doesn't it?" She took a sip of her coffee.

"Now, firstly, I notice you've six people being tube-fed. It was explained to me when I was here previously why you don't want to end up being tube-fed, and I now understand why. But the six people are all different, and I thought I'd tell you what I found. I'm coming at these people cold, so I've no idea how much you know about what's going on here. You can enlighten me afterwards. The first one I visited was," Marion put down her coffee and consulted her datapad. "Irina. She's a little different, as she's got some kind of throat problem and can't swallow, so she's not strapped down. Now, I'm sure she wouldn't tell you herself, as she's got the 'us and them' attitude going, but she really appreciates the time and effort you've taken over her, considering what's wrong with her." Marion looked up at the Shepherds. "She really is grateful for your care, although you'd never get her to admit it to you."

"She's got throat cancer," Felicia said. "Unfortunately it's tricky to transfer her to a Surgical Facility to get it seen to. She was quite a dangerous criminal when she came here. Do you know who she is?"

Marion shook her head. The woman in the bed didn't remind her of anyone familiar.

"She's Irina Tetsuskaya," Felicia explained. Marion looked blank. "Remember the National Hotel bombing, about fourteen years ago? She was part of that terrorist group," Felicia continued.

Marion blinked. She'd just spent twenty minutes or so talking to a famous terrorist without realising it. While in this case it didn't seem to do any harm, perhaps a little research might be a good idea in future before she visited any big wheels. She shook her head to clear it, and continued.

"Hm. I think in this case, the fact that I didn't know who she was was a help. I didn't have any problem talking to her. Not the case with the next one, Ruby was it?" She checked her datapad again. "Ruby. She really resented being strapped down and tube fed. I think she's just a complete curmudgeon who would do anything to make life difficult, even if it made it difficult for herself as well. It's taking a toll of her, though. She looked really resigned to her fate. I'd better talk to the doctors about her, she's obviously depressed."

"Right so far," said Felicia. "We did tell Sophia when she was last down here, but she's got side-tracked as you know. If you would talk to Alison when you get back to the office, it might jog some memories. Who's next on your list?"

"Erin. She's not been here long enough to get out of solitary, and I guess she hasn't had the rules explained to her properly. All she needed was to be low for a couple of days, and off her food, and she can end up here quite easily." Marion raised an eyebrow at Felicia.

"Unfortunately, the rules are quite strict," she replied. "I'll have a quiet word with her and see what really happened."

"The next two are similar, but for a different reason to Erin. Cath won't eat pork for religious reasons, and Maria has a wheat intolerance."

"But that's on their records," said Felicia. "The formula we feed them is strictly in accordance with any dietary requirements. What we don't understand is why they refused to eat properly beforehand."

"That's simple, and I'm surprised no-one's figured it out. Neither of them is able to select their meals from a terminal, so they got issued the usual canteen 'pot luck'. Half the time, it would have been unacceptable, so they would have refused to eat it."

"Unable to select their meals? Were they prevented?"

"Yes, in a manner of speaking. Neither of them can read. Maria can just about get the broadcasts on her terminal, but that's about all. There are no pictures on the menu pages so neither can figure out what any of the meals are. Come to that, they don't even know how to get to the menu pages."

The Shepherds looked at each other with consternation. "That's not good," muttered Felicia. "How did we miss that?"

"Is there no literacy check when detainees are inducted?" Marion asked. "The problem would have been spotted right away if there was. Thinking about it, no-one checked me when I was brought here, although I was a bit of a special case."

All eyes fastened on Marion.

"You were a detainee?" asked Felicia. "Here? How does that happen? I thought anyone with a criminal conviction couldn't be employed in the Justice Service."

"Yes," replied Marion, "I've just spent six months on E Deck. I was exonerated, though, it was all a ghastly mistake."

"Exonerated?" one of the other Shepherds asked. "That only happened last week. That means that you're -"

"Yep. That's me." Marion was forced to briefly recount her experiences to the group. Eventually, they returned to the matter in hand, and she continued.

"The last tube-feeder is one you ought to really have a look at, since in my opinion it's a clear case of injustice. Aliya was prevented from eating her food by the heavies on her Deck, as a means of punishing her for not doing what they wanted. I suspect it's not the first time they've done it to someone, either."

Felicia nodded. "You're beginning to worry us. The rules state quite clearly, if you don't eat your food, you get tied down and tube fed. Nobody's ever asked the question why people don't eat their food. We'll do what we can, but it's the rules that need changing. I'm assuming you'll be taking this up with Sophia?"

"Absolutely. Of course, we have to fight the automatic assumption that detainees always tell lies. However, I'm sure we can get independent confirmation of some of this by using the Deck monitors." The Shepherds nodded. "There's another couple of patients you have here who were punished for real or imaginary transgressions by their Decks. Michelle didn't catch her wrist in a door, she had it slammed on her while she was held in place." The Shepherds winced. "Justine didn't break her femur and an arm by falling down the stairs either, she was pushed. Or, more likely, thrown. You have some real dangerous people in here, who are prepared to do anything to get their own way."

"Of course, we know that, in a way," replied Felicia. "But the victims of these bullies are usually too frightened to say anything when they're brought to Sick Bay, so we just have to go by what we see. Thank you, Counsellor, for bringing all this to our attention. We'll be much more alert in future when someone comes in here." The others nodded agreement. She continued, "It's getting late. Is there anything else you want to tell us? Or ask us? Perhaps we ought to continue tomorrow."

"I'd like that, though I must see what else I need to do first. If not tomorrow, you'll certainly find me up here in the future." Marion drained her mug, and handed it back to Felicia. "Thanks for the drink. I'd better be getting back to the office to make a report or something before the end of the shift. Thanks for your time, all."

Marion walked out of E Deck and made her way back towards her office, but was met by Alison before she could reach it.

"There you are! I was about to send someone to find you. You're needed up in the Controller's office." She looked at Marion. "She didn't sound happy."

Marion thanked her and walked up the stairs to the Controller's office. Brand's assistant showed her into the meeting room. Marion was surprised to find it full of people sitting at the table, there was obviously a meeting going on.

"I'm sorry, Controller, you wanted to see me? I didn't know you were busy. I can wait -"

"No, you stay here, Counsellor. Thank you, Marcie." Brand's assistant closed the door. Marion looked at those at the table, identifying Sophia, Donna Khiskov, Miranda from Stores plus several faces she didn't recognise. Brand stood, and spoke directly to Marion.

"Counsellor Hillier," she began. Crap. If she's being formal, and with all these here, am I for the chop? Have I missed something important?

"I must remind you that I am supposed to be in charge of this facility," the Controller continued. "This is only your second day, and already you've caused chaos in the canteen and the locker room, had arguments with Site Security, induced Stores to produce unauthorised garments and requested an E-Decker as your personal trusty! Furthermore, I've had complaints from the Building Supervisor at your apartment block that you have had rowdy parties there and one of my Shepherds offered him violence!"

"But, Controller -"

"I haven't finished yet!" The expression of those sitting around the table was unreadable, but Marion detected carefully suppressed amusement rather than retribution. The Controller fixed Marion with her eye.

"Fortunately for you, however, I have learnt the lesson of your own detention here, and I no longer take things at face value. Particularly in the light of what I've been told by my departmental heads here. Counsellor, take a seat." She indicated an empty chair at the foot of the table. Marion sat as promptly as she could, relief washing over her.

"This is our weekly departmental meeting," Brand explained, indicating those present with a wave of her hand. "You are here because your name keeps cropping up in our discussions. It seems that most of what happened to you is not your fault, so you can breathe easily. I already know enough about you to know that Elena's idea to make you a Counsellor was a good one, and I'm not about to discard you simply because of some early teething troubles. In fact, you've shown initiative in difficult situations, and so far your judgement has been good. But please," she looked at Marion, "try not to rock the boat too much! The situation in the facility can change very rapidly at times and it's only adherence to the rules that keeps us all safe. Do you think you can do that in future?"

"Yes, Controller," replied Marion.

"Now, I want to apologise to all here about the trusty uniform the Counsellor wore yesterday. It was my idea, and it never occurred to me the problems it would cause when she went outside the fence, as she must inevitably do. Fortunately, she identified the problem and took steps to rectify it. Miranda was right to think up a new pattern, as we have no rules to cover such a situation. Actually," she said, looking closely at Marion's dress, "it suits you, and from what I hear it works well both on the Decks and elsewhere in the building. Good job, and it should get no more complaints from Site Security. Donna?"

Khiskov nodded. "Works for me. I'll issue a notice to all my staff. No, make that all staff. You're not planning to make any more changes, are you?" she asked Marion.

"Nothing major, I don't think," replied Marion. "I've only worn it today, there might need to be the odd adjustment for comfort, but I'm happy so far."

"Done," said the Controller. "Next, there's the question of your trusty. Now, there's a reason why we don't make trusties of E-Deckers, and that's because they're E-Deckers. That is, they are there because they are at risk for one reason or another. However, we talked before you came up here and realised that you are probably going to need some administrative help, and if someone's in your office they are going to be almost as safe as up on E Deck, so in principle your request for help is granted." Marion bowed her head in acknowledgement, but the Controller fixed her with her gaze again. "Even though you haven't formally requested anyone yet." Marion accepted the rebuke, and Brand continued. "However, everyone who is a candidate for trusty grade has to go before a panel, and we still need to do that, to prove that she's suitable. We also have to consider the sensitive nature of your job, and the information we'd be exposing to her, so don't expect the appointment of the detainee you've chosen to be a foregone conclusion. With me so far?"

"Yes, Controller."

"There's also the question of your Building Supervisor. Fortunately, Donna told me about your visit to her a couple of days ago, so I was prepared when he called and insisted on talking directly to me. I didn't side with him, and I didn't put him off, either. If he's up to something, I want to gather evidence without warning him that we are aware that he's being monitored. Donna?"

"I told Marion when she called that we'd try and get the remote monitors going in her block, but I'm afraid we can't get access." She frowned. "If the monitors aren't functional, that should have been reported to maintenance in any case. I think I'll send someone across to visit Marion, to have an unofficial look at the set-up." She looked at Marion. "So, expect a visit from a 'friend' tonight or tomorrow night, okay?"

"Yes, Director."

"Call me Donna, please. I'll send Trish, she's good with that sort of hardware."

The Controller said to the group, "Well, I think that concludes our meeting, but as we have Marion here, perhaps we ought to ask her how she's managed the last couple of days."

Marion gulped, and then began to tell the department heads of her activities since she had begun her new job. Her tale was met with interest, and some considerable friendly advice. They were somewhat concerned with her findings from her afternoon on D Deck, and this provoked intense discussion about shortcomings within the facility services. In the end the Controller had to stop the talk as the cleaners were waiting to come in and do the offices. Marion returned with Sophia downstairs, to find an anxious Belle waiting in her office.

"I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you. I knew you were upstairs with the Controller, I was afraid you were getting shouted at," she said.

"I was, to start with," replied Marion, "but everything's okay now. I'll tell you the high points on the way home."

They said goodbye to Sophia and made their way back down to the locker room to change, where Marion discovered a sports bag perched on top of her locker. Belle had a similar bag on top of her own locker.

"What's this, then?"

"Oh, that's what they return our clean clothes in," Belle explained. "The bags are tagged, of course, so they know who gets what. Remember the bag they gave you when you left here? Well, that's what you load your dirties in. Bring it in tomorrow, and there's a receiving hatch to the right down by the outside entrance to Stores. I'll have to bring mine in tomorrow as well, I'll show you."

"Oh, thanks, Belle. Ah, there's another thing I need to ask you, while we're changing."

The locker room was mostly empty by now, the shifts having changed well before the meeting ended, so Marion decided she wouldn't embarrass herself by asking potentially naive questions.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Yesterday, when I came here to change wearing that trusty dress, I got threatened by a Shepherd with some kind of weapon. Would you mind showing me what equipment you carry, seeing as you're loading it all in your locker anyway?"

"Oh, yes, of course. What she probably had was this," Belle reached into her locker and lifted out a slim metal tube about thirty centimetres long with a plastic grip moulded around one end. "This is a stun wand. Basically it jolts your nervous system somehow. The effect varies with distance, if you're within about three metres it knocks you out. Up to about ten metres, it's damned uncomfortable, beyond that it's just unpleasant. If you're much closer, say a metre, it gets dangerous, you go to Sick Bay and the Shepherd gets suspended - unless the situation was so bad she didn't have much choice. Every Shepherd gets put on the receiving end of one of these as part of basic training. It's a good way of making sure she doesn't use it unless absolutely necessary." She sighed. "Fortunately, I've never used mine, since I've been mostly up on E Deck, but on some of the lower Decks they need to use them far too often."

She put the wand back, and pulled out a pair of cuffs.

"We must carry a minimum of two pairs of cuffs each. They require both a key and the physical touch of someone wearing a staff disc to unlock. Here's the key." She showed Marion an odd key which had a strap that attached to a loop on the waistband of the Shepherd's trousers so that it couldn't easily be stolen. "The same key fits all the cuffs in the facility."

Belle held up a small cylinder. "Pacifier spray. To be used in crowd situations, causes all your voluntary muscles to relax. Unfortunately, some of the detainees have got hooked on the stuff, so we don't use it unless we really have to."

Belle put her equipment away, and started undressing. When she had taken her trousers off, she showed them to Marion.

"Look, there's a concealed pocket here with a panic transmitter. If a Shepherd gets backed into a corner, she can push the button through her clothing and that causes the immediate lockdown of the Deck she's on, plus the sounding of various alarms. I generally leave the transmitter in the trousers pocket until they need washing." She looked at Marion. "Perhaps you ought to have one of these in your dress?"

"Tricky," Marion replied, as she also undressed. "I already have two semi-concealed pockets. I'm not sure another one can be woven in without it being noticeable. I'll see if I can manage without, thanks. I'm not supposed to be equipped like a Shepherd, after all, that way I'm seen as non-threatening. Is that all you carry? I'm surprised you don't have more."

"It depends where you work. All Shepherds' uniforms are the same design, but some carry more kit than others. Site Security, for example, carry communicators, and some carry datapads. The medical staff carry datapads and cuffs as well as their diagnostic kit, but no wands or spray. We are supposed to rely on our physical and psychological skills rather than equipment. We've all had unarmed combat training of one sort and another, and my -" Belle stopped.

"Sorry, what?" Marion said as she zipped up her 'outside' skirt.

Belle paused, and then said, "I suppose I would tell you eventually, but it's not the sort of thing I generally discuss with most people. I was going to say, my army training helped."

"What's wrong with that?" Marion said. "Everyone has to do National Service. I don't remember that my own service would have prepared me for life as a Shepherd, though. If I'd been a woman, that is," she amended.

"No, not normally. But I signed up rather than being called up."

"What, you volunteered?"

"Yes." Belle looked around, and said, "Let's continue this conversation outside."

The two women finished changing and left the facility to walk to Marion's apartment, both carrying sports bags with their clean laundry in.

"I signed up at eighteen when I finished school," Belle resumed. "I did two years basic training, a year jumping out of planes, then three years peacekeeping. It was the peacekeeping that gave me the skills to become a Shepherd, I learned that much more can be accomplished by talking than by waving a gun at people. In the end, though, the army decided it wanted me to be something I didn't want to be, so I had to leave."

"Oh. That's a shame, I know parts of the army are bad, but there are parts where you could have had a good career. Is that what happened to you?"

"Sort of." Belle looked shifty. "I'd rather not talk about it any more, if you don't mind."

"You jumped out of planes?" Marion persisted. "You were in the Parachute Brigade, then? You must have been good to get into there, surely? From what I've heard, they set the standard quite high."

"Oh, I was good enough, all right."

Any further conversation was cut short by a voice behind them. "Stand, citizens. Cards, please."

They had both had this formula spoken to them so many times that their actions were automatic. Without turning, they both stopped, put their sports bags on the ground, swung their shoulder bags to the side and carefully opened them, Marion awkwardly since she had never been stopped by a patrol as a female before. A hand came forward and picked the ID card out of the special pocket in each bag. After a few moments the voice spoke again.

"Thank you, citizens, you may turn now."

They turned, and saw a Proctor holding out a card in each hand. Behind him, two Enforcers stood, their legs set in a defensive stance, with weapons trained upon the women. The women took the offered cards, checked that each had their own, and put them away in their bags.

"My pardon for the disturbance," the man continued. His two Enforcers holstered their weapons and stood at ease, although their eyes never stopped scanning the neighbourhood. "You live nearby?" he continued.

"Yes, in that block, there," Marion pointed. "I work in the Facility, as does my Shepherd friend here. Are you the local Proctor, then? I'll probably be seeing more of you in the future."

The man grunted. "I'm one of five who patrol this sector. Anything I can help you with, Citizen, Shepherd?"

"It's possible we may have a problem, but it's being handled through Site Security at the facility."

He nodded. "I understand. Service, citizens." He turned, and with a quick flick of his head his men turned to follow him as he walked off between the apartment blocks.

"Funny," Belle said, "I've never been stopped here before. Not this close to the facility, it usually scares wrongdoers off. They know most of the staff can take care of themselves, in any case. Wonder if something's up?"

"I was just thinking the opposite thing," replied Marion. "I mean, I've been out and about four days now, and this is the first time I've been stopped. Most unusual."

"The patrol patterns are deliberately randomised, as you know. It's just chance we haven't been stopped before today. Come on, I want to get back to the apartment."

Marion let them into her apartment and they threw their bags on the floor in the living room. Marion headed for the kitchen while Belle went to the bedroom to collect her other bag with the things she'd brought, ready to take home. When she came out, Marion asked her, "Are you sure I can't get you to stay longer? There's plenty of time for you to go home this evening, sort out your clothes and come back."

Belle smiled but shook her head. "Thank you for asking, but I think you need to have a night or two on your own. If I'm here all the time, you might get develop too much dependence. I can come back another time, or you can come to mine, as I said previously."

Marion felt a pang, but reluctantly accepted Belle's decision. "I understand what you're saying, but I don't have to like it. This is not the way for us to get closer."

"I know, dear, but I want to make sure you're doing it for the right reasons. Look," she added, "after tomorrow, I'll have two days off. Why don't I take you to my place then?"

"I don't know. I don't even know what days off I get. Actually, I'm not even sure what hours I work. Nobody seems too bothered at the moment, but I can't just keep wandering in and out as I please. "

Belle looked concerned. "It should have been in the employment contract you signed, although for Shepherds they don't tell you your shift pattern until after you've finished the training course. It should be in your file somewhere. You'll have to go through it when you get in tomorrow. Didn't anyone say?"

"No. I suppose Sophia should have told me, or handed me to someone who should have taken me through all that, but you know how busy she is. First thing tomorrow, then."

Belle accepted a cup of tea, and then it was time for her to go. Putting her bags down behind the entrance door, she was enveloped by Marion in a fierce embrace. When they broke, Marion's eyes were brimming.

"My, you have got it bad," Belle said softly. "Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way. I'll see. But I have to go tonight, you know that. Are you going to be all right, dearest?"

"I'll manage," said Marion, "I did the first night, after all. Just hurry back in the morning, that's all I ask."

A final goodnight kiss and then Belle departed. Marion slowly made her way back into the living room, picked up her bags and took them into the bedroom to unpack and put away. A simple meal followed, and Marion realised that she'd have to go food shopping again soon. She watched a random video broadcast, not taking much in, before deciding it was time for bed.

As she lay in bed, she thought about how dramatically her life had changed, and in such an entirely unexpected fashion. Seven months ago, she had been Marlon Hillier, respected Vertical Mill Operator First Class in a heavy machinery factory, still getting over the loss of his beloved Anna. Now, through a chance combination of circumstance, incompetence and malice she had become Marion Hillier, Counsellor at a Female Offender Containment Facility, working in a hothouse of a thousand women, and with a potential partner waiting to get her hands on her. She reached out with her hand under the duvet and wished that it touched Belle.

Purely by chance, I've ended up in a good place, she thought. I have a job that it seems I can do well, even though I'd no idea I could do anything like this before. I work in a place where colleagues value my opinions. I have many, many friends who are on both sides of the fence, and who are actively looking out for me. I have a potential partner who seems to want me as much as I want her. All I have to do now is conquer my fear of not doing the right thing in public. It will come, in time, she thought. It will come in time.