This story is set in an anonymous state in the near future, where surveillance techniques and bureaucracy reign. Could this be what your state will look like then?

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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.

This story has previously published elsewhere in a different format. It has been re-edited for this edition.

When Marlon Hillier opened his apartment door, he found three men standing there, dressed in black. The man in front had a purple stripe on each cuff, indicating that he was a Proctor. Surprised by the unexpected visit, Marlon took a deep breath.

"Service, citizens. How may I help you?"

"Service, citizen. We understand this is the registered dwelling-place of Marion Allen Hillier. We have business with her. Is she in?"

"I'm sorry, Proctor, no-one of that name lives here, only me. But my name sounds very similar to that, I'm Marlon Allen Hillier. Are you sure that it's not me that you have business with?"

Confused, the Proctor consulted his datapad. "No, it's very definitely a woman that we want. Do you recognise this picture?"

He held his datapad up so that Marlon could see the display. It showed the face of a young, blonde woman, probably in her mid-twenties, attractive enough if you were into blondes.

"Never seen her before," replied Marlon. "Perhaps you gentlemen would like to step inside, so that we can sort this out."

He stood back, and waved his arm to invite them in. The Proctor motioned him back from the door, and the three stepped inside, one of the accompanying Enforcers closing the door before standing in front of it as if to prevent Marlon from escaping. He knew better than to try any such thing, of course.

"Check the rooms," the Proctor instructed, and the other heavy moved past Marlon, to inspect the three rooms that made up his small living space. It didn't take long.

"Clear, sir," reported the Enforcer.

"Right," said the Proctor. "I am Proctor Julian, by the way. I think we'd better see your ID card first."

Marlon fished it out of his pocket and handed it to the official, who inserted it into a slot at the top of his datapad. The Proctor checked the data, then handed it back.

"Seems to be in order," he said. "This is an apartment designated for couples, isn't it? How is it you're living here alone, then?"

"My partner died six months ago in a traffic accident," Marlon replied, "I've been on the list for a single apartment for a while, but there's too much demand for them, and while there are a lot of couples apartments empty in this block the Housing Authority is quite happy for me to stay here until the demand for the singles goes down."

Proctor Julian nodded. "Much as I thought. Now, can I check your partner's details? I'd better make sure she wasn't the one we're looking for."

"Uh, yes. If we can go into the living area, I'll give you her death certificate."

Julian motioned Marlon into the living area, closely followed by the Enforcer. Marlon went to the small sideboard, but the Enforcer got there first, and opened all the cupboards and drawers to ensure there were no weapons hidden there. Marlon dug out a cardboard box and retrieved a black card the same size and shape as an ID card, which he handed to Julian. Julian inspected the card using his datapad and handed it back.

"What's this woman supposed to have done, anyway?" asked Marlon as he put the card away. "Assuming you're allowed to tell me, of course."

Julian shrugged. "Fraud. We have a positive video ID on her collecting the proceeds from a cash dispenser. Her record led us back here." He frowned. "I have a problem here, Citizen Hillier. You obviously can't be the person we're looking for, but your name is sufficiently similar that it raises some questions in my mind, questions I don't want to ask. The State does not make mistakes, and that's my problem. There must have been some kind of goof-up when they back-tracked the ID, and I can't see how that could happen. I can't solve this from here, so I'm going to ask you to come back to the station with us, so I can work through the data and see what's happening."

"Of course, Citizen Proctor. Happy to be of service." Marlon's heart sank. While it was the duty of every citizen to stay out of trouble, staying out of the way of the Proctors and their Enforcers was an even greater imperative. Enforcers were not known for their social skills.

"Can I get my coat?" he asked. Although they would take him to the station, once this mess was straightened out he would most likely have to find his own way home. The Enforcer lifted it off the coat rack and handed it to him, and he put it on.

The Enforcer spoke. "Hands behind, citizen."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, but we have to cuff you if you are going in our vehicle," said Julian, "It's the regulations, no exceptions."

Julian switched off everything in the apartment, and, hands locked behind him, the Enforcer walked Marlon outside. In the parking area at the front of the building, they loaded Marlon into a cage in the windowless back part of the enforcement vehicle. The three climbed in the front, and the vehicle set off into the city. Finally, Marlon was removed and marched directly into another building, obviously the station Proctor Julian operated from. The man himself was talking to another official when the Enforcer approached with Marlon.

"There you are," Julian said. "You can remove the cuffs, we shouldn't need them here. Citizen Hillier is not under arrest as yet, only investigation." He turned to Marlon. "This is the Custody Officer. I'm going to leave you in his care while I go upstairs and dig into this case. I may come down later and ask you some questions, okay?"

The Custody officer smiled at Marlon. "Can I ask you to empty all your pockets, citizen? I'll seal them in this bag, and we'll sign the seal. I'll keep all your belongings safe until you leave here."

Marlon put the few items in his pockets into the proffered bag, and the seal was signed. He retained only his ID card.

"If you'll just come with me, citizen." He escorted Marlon - accompanied by one of the Enforcers - along several corridors and through locked doors until they arrived at the detention area. He used his ID card to open the door of one of the holding rooms.

"In you go, citizen. I've no idea how long Proctor Julian is going to be, so you may have a long wait. I'll bring you a drink later on."

The door banged shut behind Marlon. He sat down upon the bed moulded into the side of the room and wondered how long it was going to take. Eventually, realising that speculation was fruitless, he took off his coat, rolled it to make a pillow, and lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.

He was woken up by the opening of the door. The Custody Officer came in, holding a steaming mug.

"A drink as promised," he said, adding apologetically, "I'm sorry, it looks like your stay here is going to be longer than we thought. Proctor Julian and his men have been called out to an incident. You may end up here staying overnight. I'll keep you informed, citizen."

The evening came, and with it the Custody Officer bearing a meal tray. When he returned to collect the tray, he brought some blankets with him.

"Looks like you will be here overnight," the man said. "I'll leave full notes on your file so that the duty Custody Officer tomorrow morning knows what's happening. Good night, Citizen."

In the morning, the new Custody Officer brought his breakfast tray, but refused to answer any of his questions about Proctor Julian. Lunch came, and Marlon was beginning to get concerned, partly because there was no news, and partly because the small room offered little in the way of mental stimulation. He slumped on the bed, half asleep and half in a daydream. It was therefore a complete shock when the door opened and an Enforcer stepped in and said, "Hands behind, citizen."

"Where are you taking me?" he asked, standing up and turning around. "Where's Proctor Julian?"

"You're going to the court," the man replied, applying the cuffs. "No more questions."

He was marched out of the detention area, along corridors, into and out of a lift, and into a different part of the building. Eventually, he and his guard stood in a waiting area for a few minutes before he was led into what was obviously the dock of a court. Marlon assumed so, anyway. He had never been anywhere near the justice system before in his life.

In front of him, seated at a desk set much higher than his level, sat a woman who was apparently running the proceedings. She did a double-take as Marlon was lead to a seat and his cuffs removed.

"There appears to be some mistake here. Is Proctor Julian present?" she asked.

One of the other people present, a court official by his uniform, replied. "No, ma'am, Proctor Julian was allocated to an important incident that occurred yesterday afternoon."

"Oh, yes. I know what you refer to. I shall have to conduct this case from the record, then. There seems to be a problem. The accused in this case is a woman, and I have a man in front of me."

The clerk responded. "This person was brought in yesterday by Proctor Julian. I don't think he would have brought someone in if he hadn't been certain of his identification."

The woman frowned, and then looked at Marlon. "Would you give the court your name, citizen?"

"I'm Marlon Allen Hillier, learned citizen. Proctor Julian noticed the discrepancy when he came to my apartment," he added.

"Noted," the woman said, "but next time, only answer the question you've been asked. Understood?"

She busied herself with the case record, displayed upon her terminal, looking thoughtful. She turned to Marlon.

"Do you deny the charge made against you?"

"Learned citizen, I don't think anyone has made a charge against me. Leastways, not that they have told me about."

She turned back to the terminal, using it to consult other information. Then she beckoned the clerk up to her, and they held a long, quiet discussion before she turned back to the courtroom to pronounce her verdict.

"The State does not make mistakes, so I think I see my way clear in this matter. In the case of the State versus Marion Allen Hillier, I find the accused guilty of fraudulently obtaining money on the thirteenth of last month. I find the accused guilty of tampering with identification data. I also find the accused guilty of unauthorised gender reassignment. Because the accused denies her guilt, I double the sentence to five years detention for the first offence. I give sentence of five years detention for the second offence, to run concurrently with that for the first offence, and for the third offence, for regression therapy to be administered. Case closed, take her away."

"But I'm a man, not a woman!" shouted Marlon. He got a punch in the small of his back for his protestations. The Justiciar waved her hand, and the Enforcer, together with a courtroom official, dragged him away. Hands again locked behind him, he was led away down a different route, to end up in a holding room somewhere else in the complex of buildings. The escorting Enforcer had made it plain that any attempt to speak would be met with physical force, so the journey was made in silence.

After an hour, he was collected from the holding room, still cuffed, by a different Enforcer and led away through the labyrinth of passages. Finally, he ended up at a door where a transfer van had been backed right up. He was led into the interior of this and pushed into one of a number of tiny cubicles lining the sides. The cuffs were released, and refastened with his hands in front.

"Hang on to the handle," advised a man in a different uniform, possibly the driver. "We're not going far, but I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Marlon sat down. The cubicle had been moulded from a single sheet of plastic, with a seat at the rear and a grab handle on the front surface. There was no window. When the door was shut, he saw that it had no handle, only small ventilation slots at the top and bottom. The only light came through the translucent roof of the vehicle. He could hear other people being loaded onto the vehicle, and then a period of silence before the van was started and driven away.

The vehicle drove for only a short while, most of it on good quality roads, but at the end it rocked quite violently over what Marlon decided must be a speed prevention device of some sort. Finally after some manoeuvring it stopped, and there were sounds of the cargo being unloaded. Marlon's door was opened, and he emerged to find that the vehicle had been reversed up to a doorway as before, so that he stepped directly into another building.

His escort this time was a woman in a grey uniform he didn't recognise. She looked big and fit enough to handle Marlon, so he did exactly what she wanted him to.

"Hey! Joe! You sure you brought this one to the right place?" she asked the driver.

"Yep. I queried that when he got loaded. This is the correct place, all right. The State doesn't make mistakes, does it?" he replied.

His escort led him into a waiting area where several other cuffed citizens and their escorts were standing. It eventually struck Marlon that every single other person in the room was a woman, and that they were all staring curiously at him.

A woman wearing different collar tabs on her uniform entered the room, and she raised an eyebrow when she saw Marlon.

"What's he doing here?" she asked.

"The driver says he should be here," replied his escort. The other women in the room began to get interested.

The newcomer said, "He'd better come with me to see the Facility Controller. We need to find out what's going on. The rest of you, someone will be along shortly to induct you into the facility. Bring him."

His escort followed the other woman through some corridors and into a lift, emerging at a much higher level. They were shown into an ante-room that held a table and several chairs. After a wait, an older woman emerged from an inner office and motioned Marlon to sit at the table opposite her. The two escorts stood to one side, watching.

"Well, this is unexpected. This place is Female Offender Containment Facility Five, and I am Facility Controller Brand. Do you have your ID card, citizen?"

"Citizen." Marlon got his ID card out and presented it to the Controller. She inserted it into a slot in the personal terminal on the table in front of her.

"That's odd, there's nothing in this that indicates you should be anywhere near this place. You came here through the court system?" Marlon nodded, but remembered to keep his mouth shut. "Let me see if I can find the relevant record dealing with your transfer, since it appears you were supposed to come here. Ah, here we are. That's odd," she said again. She looked at him.

"There seems to be two records for you, one as a man and the other as a woman. It's the woman who has done the crime, so that's why you - someone - has been sent here. Let me see."

She played with the terminal until she had the two records up, side by side, then she swung the display around so that Marlon could see it. He saw his face, and the blonde's face, and the detail below. His he recognised, the other's was all new to him.

"May I speak?" he ventured. The Controller assented. "I've noticed that there is a single letter different between her name and mine. There's also a single digit different between our ID numbers. See, here I've got a three while she has a nine. Perhaps there was a transcription error when the case was being investigated."

The Controller said, "The offences you are said to have committed are fraud, also that you tampered with ID data, and unauthorised gender reassignment. That indicates to me that you are a woman who has tried to become a man to hide her tracks. What do you say to that?"

"I'm a man! I was born a man, I grew up a man, and I've always been a man. I've never done anything criminal. This Marion woman is the criminal, not me. She's managed to confuse the data so that I got mixed up with her somehow. You have to believe me."

"The problem I have with your statement is that practically every woman who comes through those doors protests their innocence to me. Of course they're not, since the State makes very, very few mistakes. In this case, if it's mistaken identity, we can settle it quickly."

She pressed a button on the communicator on the table. "Ask the doctor to come to meeting room two. I need a blood sample tested."

The doctor arrived, found a vein, took her sample and departed. The woman who had brought Marlon up to the Controller's suite departed, and so did the Controller, leaving just his original escort. Time passed, and presently another woman brought a trolley with two trays of food, for himself and for his escort. He ate his under the watchful eye of his escort, still cuffed, and then his escort ate while the new woman watched the prisoner. Finally the Controller reappeared.

"I've had the result of the blood test, and you match both records," she said. "There is obviously an error, and the State does not make errors. I'm inclined to give the court the benefit of the doubt, so you will be joining our facility for the length of your sentence."

"But I'm a man! I can't stay here!"

The Controller held up her hand. "You're under our rules now, and those state that you do not speak unless spoken to." She relented. "The situation you find yourself in is nowhere near as bad as that you'd be in if you had gone to a male facility," she said. "There are twenty times as many male detainees as female, and their facilities can be extremely rough. Oh, we have our hard cases here, but in general we get along quite well. Try to follow the regulations, and your time here will be quite comfortable. You'll find that our Shepherds are a lot less rough than the Enforcers you have encountered up to now." She paused, thinking.

"We have had two cases similar to yours that I can remember. Does that equipment between your legs work?" she asked him.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, "My partner and I had received permission for a child but she died before we could start one."

"I can't put you on an open Deck, as the Queens would have you strapped to a bed and you'd be screwed to death within a week," she said, matter-of-factly. "If you didn't get beaten to death first. Some of those who are in here are here for murdering their partners." Marlon paled.

"You'll have to go on E Deck," she said, raising her eyes to the Shepherd who had escorted him. "That's the deck we keep the suicide cases, the mental cases, and those at danger from the other detainees. It'll mean solitary confinement, at least to start with, until we work out what to do with you."

As the Shepherd raised him to his feet, he asked, "Isn't there any way I can appeal against this? This has all been a ghastly mistake."

"An appeal automatically gets lodged on every conviction," the Controller replied, "Didn't you know that?" She turned to the Shepherd. "Take him to be inducted. I think the area will be clear now, so there will be less chance of gossip. I'll have a room allocated on E Deck by the time you've got him kitted out and up there."

The Shepherd led him back to the lift, and they travelled back to the bottom level. She took him along to a large room labelled "Stores".

"Marge! It's a bit late. Where did you find this one from?" asked the woman behind the counter.

"He's a different shape to us, so the Controller wanted to make sure he's been brought to the right place," his Shepherd replied. "So far as she's concerned, he has, so he needs inducting."

The woman behind the counter shrugged. "It's all the same to me," she said. "Right, you, I need you to go through to the room at the end and strip off. There's a shower there, don't take too long, I've a home to go to. Come out through the other door when you're dry, and I'll measure you for your uniform. The clothes you arrived in will go in one of these boxes," she waved her hands at the laden racks behind her, "and you'll collect them when you leave here. Assuming they still fit, of course. Marge, the shackles, if you please."

The Shepherd took off the cuffs and Marlon opened the door. On the other side he found a small room with a shower stall in the corner, and a shelf with a cardboard box on it. He stripped slowly and folded his clothes, placing them in the box. Then he climbed into the shower and gave himself a thorough going over.

His brain had well-nigh seized up as the extent of the nightmare unfolding over him increased. He was now just letting things wash over him, reacting at a surface level to whatever was asked of him. He had heard of workmates who had suffered breakdowns, and he wondered if this was happening to him. Indeed, he wondered whether he had suffered a breakdown, and how much of what had happened in the last two days was actually real. Zombie-like, he soaped himself down and rinsed, then allowed the blowers to dry his skin. Totally naked, he walked out through the other door.

He was in a black room. "Stand still there, with your arms down but away from your sides," he was instructed. From several directions and levels, lasers played over his body for a few seconds, then the lights came up. "Walk on through the far door."

The stores woman had had trouble with the scan, enough that she'd had to override some of the suggested measurements. By the time Marlon arrived at the new counter, she had already started picking out clothing for him.

"You can start with those," she said, giving him a pair of briefs. He looked at them incuriously, and then put them on.

"Stand there a minute." She continued collecting clothes, making two piles in front of him. "Seems a bit silly giving you a bra when you're that flat," she said. "But the regulations say you must have them so what I'm going to do is issue you two sports bras. Here, put this on." She held one out to him, but Marlon just stood there.

"Marge, help him out, or we'll be here all night." The Shepherd took his arms and threaded the sports bra onto them, then pulled the garment over his head and down to cover his upper chest.

"Since women's breasts can change size during the month, you will always be able to call me if something doesn't fit," the stores woman said to Marlon. "That applies to all of your clothing. Put this on next," she added, handing a slip to Marge, who pulled it over Marlon's head. This was followed by a seamless short-sleeved light green shift, which was similarly pulled onto Marlon's body. Finally, a pair of simple sandals, consisting of soft plastic soles with one canvas strap over the base of the toes and another over the bridge of the foot completed the outfit.

"Right. You listening?" Marlon nodded, dully. "You have a fresh pair of briefs each day. You have two slips and two bras a week, and one smock or dress a week. Dirty clothing goes down a chute in your wash closet. I give everyone two week's clothing, so you wear one week's worth while the other week's worth gets washed. Understand?" Marlon nodded again.

"Next, what have you done with your ID card? Is it in the box with the rest of your stuff?"

Another nod. Marge walked back through the rooms and returned bearing the box. After some searching the card was discovered and fed into a machine on the counter. This produced a small silver disc which dropped into a cup. The stores officer took the disc and attached it to a length of metal braid, which was then placed round Marlon's neck. The excess was cut off, and the free end fused to the disc, giving him a non-removable necklace. Next she took a wand attached to the machine, and waved it both over Marlon and the pile of spare clothing on the counter. Checking her display, she removed the ID card and placed it back in the box, closing it.

"Good. That disc round your neck is all the ID you'll need while you're inside, and all your clothing has been tagged as belonging to you, as well, which takes care of the laundry problem. I think you're all done here. Marge, she's all yours."

A faint remnant inside Marlon wanted to protest, "But I'm a he, not a she," but he was numb, past caring. Under instruction, he picked up the bundle of clothes and followed the Shepherd out to the lift. They rode up a long way, and then got out to see a corridor facing them. One side was composed of glass bricks between the support pillars, so that there was plenty of light, but no view. On the other side, a row of blank doors. Halfway along the corridor seemed to be some kind of watch station, where two women sat behind desks and watched displays. The Shepherd took Marlon down to the watch station. As they approached the desk, the two women looked up, curious.

"New recruit?" one of them asked.

"Yes, special case," Marge replied.

"Of course, she wouldn't be up here if not a special case." The woman looked at Marlon quizzically, and then said, "that's not a she, that's a he. How did that happen?"

"I don't know the full details," replied Marge, "Just that he's to be kept away from the crowd down below for his own safety."

"Damn right there," the other replied. "Man-meat wouldn't last five minutes on B Deck, and probably not much longer on some of the other decks. We'll keep him safe up here. Ah, he's registered. He's going in E16. Need a hand?"

"No, don't think so. I think he's shocked by what's happening to him."

"Just like most of them, first time inside. Takes them a while to settle down. I'll remote the door for you."

Marge walked Marlon down to the indicated cell and opened the door. He walked inside and put the clothing down on the bed.

Marge said, "If you need anything, or need to know anything, use the personal terminal to call the desk. Right. I'll leave you to get settled in." She closed the cell door, and Marlon was alone.

Fifteen minutes later, and the door opened to admit one of the two Shepherds who had been sitting at the watch desk. Marlon had sat down on the bed, and hadn't moved since Marge left. The Shepherd walked over and sat down on the bed beside him.

"You're finding it hard to come to terms with, aren't you, honey?" she said softly. Marlon's expression didn't change, but his head turned slightly away from her. "Look," she said, "we don't make the rules, our job is to look after you and keep you from harm. We're not particularly interested in why you're in here, but now you are here, we make sure you don't stray from the regulations, and we keep you safe. That's why we're called Shepherds, after all."

Marlon turned his face towards her, but there was little expression on it still. His eyes flickered towards her face, but they were still dull. The Shepherd managed to think of an angle that might get a response from her charge.

"How did you come to end up in a woman's facility, anyway?"

Marlon's face finally showed animation. "I'm a man," he whispered. "I don't know what I'm doing here at all."

The Shepherd had briefly read through his file, but she persisted with her questions.

"There must have been a court session that sent you here. What were you charged with, to get you sent here? And why here, and not a men's facility?"

Marlon looked at her, suspicion plain upon his face. "I thought you just said you weren't interested. Why are you asking me all these questions, then?"

"I'm just trying to get a conversation going," the Shepherd replied. "Look, even if your appeal gets heard immediately, and you get exonerated, you'll be here a few days, so it's in my interest to get to know those who I have to look after. None of this is official, by the way. Sometimes, particularly on E Deck, we have to treat the regulations as guidelines rather than strict by-the-book rules. So, what happened, then?"

"I don't know," replied Marlon. Then, in a rush, his whole story came out, from the knock on the door to the unexpected trial and being sent to the Women's Facility. "So you see," he concluded, "everyone agrees that the fraud was done by a young, blonde-haired woman. Do I look like a young, blonde woman?"

"But the trial record suggested that you are a woman who is pretending to be a man," the Shepherd objected. "How do you explain that?"

"I can't," Marlon said. "When I arrived I got taken straight up to the Controller and had a blood test taken. My DNA matched both my own record and that of the blonde woman. I'm not a woman, I've never been a woman. I've ended up in a living nightmare. What's happening to me?"

Marlon's face began to break, and the Shepherd gathered him to her, lowering his head on to her bosom, comforting him. Marlon wasn't in a state able to shed tears, but he clutched the woman and something passed from her to him, giving him some strength. After a while he straightened up and composed himself.

"Thank you. It's been a while since I've been able to hold anyone like that."

"How so?"

"My partner died six months ago in a traffic accident. I still haven't really got over her death."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Had you been together long?"

"Five years and seven months. We had just been given permission for our first child, too."

"Oh, no! You haven't had a good time of it recently, have you?"

Marlon's face twitched into a wry grimace. "No. That's one way to describe it, anyway."

"Look," the Shepherd said, "I can't do anything about the past, but my colleagues and I can help you survive the future. I'm Alex, by the way, and my mate outside is Sandy. Yes, we're both named Alexandra, only she spells hers with a KS instead of an X. You can call all Shepherds, at least on E Deck, by our first names. You can see them on our name tags, anyway. I can't imagine, given the circumstances, that you're going to be anywhere but E Deck, so you'll get to know all of us. We're the evening shift, Donna and Carla are the night shift, and Belle, Linda, Elena and Kristina do the daytimes. The shifts do change around sometimes, and you may see other faces up here occasionally, but it's mostly us eight because we've had special training. Now, are you in a fit enough state for me to show you round your spacious apartment?"

The attempt at humour got through to Marlon, and he rallied.

"Yes, um, Alex, I suppose I'd better find out how this all works."

"Good. There's not much to tell, so it won't take long, and then I'll leave you in peace."

The room was L-shaped, with the wash room filling out the rectangle. The bed was moulded along one side wall, and the foot of the bed was moulded into a seat. Sitting here, one could access the detainee's personal terminal, which was moulded into the inside wall. Marlon was surprised to find such a thing in a detention room.

"Not at all," replied Alex. "It means that you can call us up, or Sick Bay, or Stores, without anyone having to walk you through the facility. There's also access to several large knowledge bases, you can look at news files, or even take training courses. While you're in here, we don't expect your brain to vegetate. There's a facility library you can access. You use the terminal to choose a book, and it will be made available to you. You can also keep a personal journal, which will be transferred to your outside personal file on release. I will warn you that everything you write will be read by someone on the facility staff, so make sure you keep it clean. Whatever you write won't be censored, though. "

It turned out that the Personal Terminal also served as a video display, so that he could watch certain selected broadcasts even as he lay in bed.

"There's twelve channels," Alex explained, "although not all of them run all the time. You can get news, soaps, sports events, and other programs of interest. Three of the channels are music channels, one of which plays classical music. Channel twelve is special, it runs a keep fit regime every day for detainees, with exercises specially designed for you to do in your room."

Next to the personal terminal, on the inside wall, was the door. This had an inside handle, and a tell-tale to indicate whether or not the door was locked. On the wall on the other side of the door was the feeding station. This was a shelf moulded into the wall, with a matching hatch through the wall, and a transparent cover over it. To use it, you sat on a seat moulded into the end of the wash room. Alex explained how the system worked.

"At meal times, a tray with your food will be pushed through the hatch, and along these guides. Once it slides all the way in, the hatch closes and the cover is released. You lift the cover and eat. If the meal requires eating utensils, they are provided sealed in a slot in the tray. Once you break the seals, the air will activate the plastic in the fork or spoon and they will become soft after a while, maybe twenty minutes to half an hour. Once you've finished, you must put the utensils back on the tray and close the cover. This will lock it and release the hatch. If you haven't closed the cover after half an hour or so, someone will open the door to see if you have a problem."

"Sounds unnecessarily complicated to me," remarked Marlon.

"Ah, but we have people up here on suicide watch," came the reply. "Although I don't think you fit into that category at the moment, we use the same system for everyone, so don't let it worry you. Now, the wash room."

Alex led Marlon into the cubicle which occupied a quarter of his room. There was shower, a washbasin, and a toilet, as he had expected. There was no door. Marlon looked around, and noticed a discrepancy.

"Uh, I don't see any toilet paper," he said.

"No, we've had trouble in the past with people misusing toilet paper, so some money was spent and we have these automatic bowls now. Once you've finished, remain seated while you wave your hand over the sensor and your various orifices will get washed and dried for you. Much more hygienic, in my opinion."

Marlon regarded her unhappily. "I stand up to pee."

"Oh! I suppose you do. It wouldn't hurt you to sit down, would it?" she asked.

"That might work, but it may cause a mess. I'll just have to try it and see."

"Um," Alex said, "Thinking about it, I suppose I should ask you to show me that you are actually male. Up to now, I've only had your word for it, after all."

Marlon flushed, but he realised that he had little choice responding to a "suggestion" from a Shepherd. He pulled up the front of the smock and slip with one hand, and then used the thumb of the other hand to pull his briefs down.

"Oh, my," Alex said, "That's fine, you can put them away now, I had to make sure. It'll help us decide what to do if we have to deal with anything that might come up in the future."

The outside wall of the cubicle, like that of the room, had an area of glass bricks which let light in, but prevented a view out. Below them were two flaps covering chutes.

"The larger one is for your dirty clothes. Push them down there, and they go all the way down and end up in the laundry processing area. The smaller chute is for sanitary towels and tampons." As she said it, she blushed red. "I don't think you're going to need that one, are you? You are also allowed to dispose of other non recyclables down there, although I don't expect there'll be much for you to throw away."

On the outside of the wash room, facing the bed, the cubicle wall had been moulded into a series of shelves.

"Keep all your things on these shelves," Alex instructed him. "You'll keep the room tidy and it will make it easy if we have to move you to another room. How are you feeling now?"

Marlon nodded. "Better now, thanks. I'm still a bit numb. It's a lot to have to take in all at once."

"I know," Alex replied, "Some women break down completely when they first arrive. You've managed quite well, for a first-timer. You're safe enough for me to leave you now?"

He managed a small smile. "Yes, thank you, Alex. I'll try not to let you down."

"That's my girl. Oh, sorry, you know what I mean." She headed for the door. "Oh, after breakfast tomorrow I expect someone will be along to take you to Sick Bay. Every new detainee gets checked over by the doc and her crew. There's so many people in here, it could be quite nasty if someone comes in with a disease, so we check everyone. Okay?"

"Yes, Alex. I'll be ready."

Alex pulled the door shut behind her, and the tell-tale turned from green to red. Marlon turned and examined the room in more detail, his senses now activated. He realised that everything in the room was moulded into the walls and floor. There were no sharp corners, no loose objects. Of course. If you had to make a room for someone in danger of committing suicide, you had to make it as difficult for them as possible. The keyboard of the personal terminal was moulded into the shelf in front of the display, and the keys didn't move when he pressed them. He had used similar terminals on the machine-shop floor of the factory where he worked, sealed and protected against dirt and industrial fluids. The lighting in the room was flush with the ceiling, and operated by touch pads beside the door and at the head of the bed. Apart from the clothing he'd brought with him, everything was fixed down.

He wondered how long he could survive in such a space.

With a sigh, he turned and started putting his clothing on the shelves beside his bed. He discovered that he had been given two nightdresses, presumably one per week. The only other unusual thing he found was a small towel. Given that the shower, toilet and washbasin all had blowers, he wondered what the towel was for. Deciding that he had had enough for the day, he undressed and put on one of the nightdresses, having already showered earlier. He climbed under the quilt on the bed, touched off the light, and lay there in the darkness wondering what else could possibly happen to him. Eventually, sleep came.

Marlon attempts to adjust to his strange new surroundings, and finds that the locals can be friendly.

---

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.

The thump as his breakfast tray was slid through the slot awoke him, and he sat up abruptly. He'd been so exhausted by the events of the previous two days that he'd slept deeply and without any dreams that he could recall having. He climbed out of bed and made his way to the feeding station, anxious to eat before the delay caused any investigation.

In the moulded depressions in the tray were a plastic cup full of tea, sealed with a layer of film presumably to stop it spilling, two slices of toast, and a blob of something that might be jam. A spoon was sealed in a slot by a thin film, and he broke this out and used it to scoop the jam onto the toast, spreading it with the back of the spoon. The meagre meal was consumed quickly, and then he turned his attentions to getting dressed as quickly as possible.

He remembered that his partner had changed her underwear first thing every morning, so the briefs he had worn since arrival went down the chute. A quick shower followed. He discovered that he could sit down to go to the toilet, provided he slid back a little to get behind the raised lip at the front of the bowl designed to catch a woman's flow. Activating the flush got his nether regions wet, but the mechanism seemed to dry it all off okay with minimal splashing on the floor. He pulled on a new pair of briefs, his slip and smock, ignoring the sports bra, which he folded and put back on a shelf. He put his feet into the beach slippers and made himself ready for any summons.

While he waited he decided to explore the personal terminal. When he thumbed the touch switch at the side of the display it lit up, to show him a canned lecture describing the rules and regulations of his new existence before dropping into a simple menu. He spent some time exploring the obviously limited facilities before the door opened and a Shepherd poked her head through.

"Service, citizen. I'm here to take you to Sick Bay for your admission check-up." It was a new Shepherd, whose blouse had red cuffs to the short sleeves. Her name plate said 'Sophia' and 'Sick Bay Supervisor'. She looked closely at Marlon as he stood up.

"You're a male!"

"I'm glad somebody recognises that fact, Shepherd," Marlon said. He stood before her and held out his wrists. Sophia fished a set of cuffs out of the back pocket of her trousers and secured him.

"What are you doing in a place like this?" she asked, as she led him out into the corridor.

"Long story," he replied.

Now that he had his wits about him, he could see that the section of corridor in which he stood had grills and gates separating it from the watch station at one end and the lifts at the other. Last night, he had been too depressed to notice his surroundings. Beyond the watch station, another set of gates led to the other half of the corridor, with further gates at the far end. He could not make out what was beyond them. Sophia led him to the lift end of his half and passed through the gate, but instead of calling a lift walked him down the stairs beside the shaft.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, "It's only one flight and the lifts can be busy at this time of morning."

They reached the Sick Bay area, which was identifiable by having dark red doors, and he was shown into an examination room.

"I'm going to have to ask you to take off all your clothes," the Shepherd said, removing the cuffs.

Marlon did so, and stood naked, having long decided that there was no point in getting embarrassed in the present circumstances. In the middle of the floor was a diagnostic seat, of the kind his local doctor used. Sophia motioned him to sit down on it.

"Lie back, citizen. I have to secure you to the chair."

"Shepherd?"

Sophia clicked a webbing strap round his waist and pulled it tight. "We get all sorts in here, and we have to protect ourselves, and our patients, of course. You don't look particularly dangerous, but one can never tell, particularly if the patient is someone we've never seen before. Now lie back, please."

Straps were fitted across his chest under his armpits, round wrists and upper arms, across thighs and round ankles, rendering him almost completely immobile except for his head. Once this had been completed, the Shepherd pushed a needle into a vein on the back of his left hand and began to take samples. Removing the needle, she took the samples to be tested, and then gave Marlon a thorough physical examination. She paid particular attention to his penis and testicles.

"You'll forgive me, citizen. We don't usually see these in Sick Bay, so I'm not familiar with any problems that might be associated with them."

"I don't think I have anything wrong with them, but there might be things I'm not aware of. Your examination seems extremely thorough. Can I ask what you're looking for?"

"The usual bacterial, viral and fungal infections, of course. The unusual, like degenerative diseases of your internal organs, including cancer, arthritis and diabetes. Also things like parasites, fleas, ticks, crabs, lice, worms, both internal and external. Basically anything we can find which might threaten either you or anyone else you come into contact with."

"Do you really get people with those kinds of things in here? Answering myself, I suppose you must do."

"Yes, unfortunately. You're from a fairly affluent area of the city, I can tell by your skin condition and tone. We get all sorts in here, and despite the State saying it doesn't happen, some of them are in pretty poor condition."

Sophia then unstrapped his thighs and ankles, restrapping them individually, before using the controls to adjust the seat. The lower portion divided, and then hinged under buttocks and behind knees to elevate his legs and separate them.

"Normally we give each detainee a gynaecological examination, but obviously there's no point with yourself. I'll use the opportunity to have a look at your anal passage while you're here, though. Now hold still. No, I want you to relax. There, I'm finished."

A chime sounded, and the Shepherd went to a terminal to get the results of the blood tests. Marlon squirmed in the chair from the after-effects of the unpleasant examination.

"Looks like you're clear, citizen. At least from the first tests. There are one or two diseases which will take longer to test for, so you'll be confined to your room for a week until we can clear you. You can get dressed now."

Sophia reset the chair and released Marlon, who pulled on his clothes. She re-secured him and then took him back to E Deck, but instead of returning him to his room, she took him through the next set of gates and to the two women sitting at the watch station.

"Your new - and unusual - resident has passed the first tests," Sophia said to the two. "Keep her, I mean him, isolated for the next seven days as usual. Any problems, I know you'll call me."

The two women smiled at Marlon in greeting. "Good morning. I'm Elena and she's Kristina. We've been going over your record and we're a bit confused. What do we call you?"

Marlon said, "It seems my DNA matches both my own ID record and that of a woman. She's the one who committed the offences, but the court seems to have got the details confused, although I know that's not supposed to happen. My name is Marlon. I'm not that keen on being called by the woman's name, because that might be seen as an admission of guilt."

"Or a denial of reality," responded Sophia. "We get a lot of people in here with delusions. Mostly that they're innocent, but it can go a lot deeper than that."

"Look, you examined my body," protested Marlon, "did it look at all like it could ever have been a female body?"

"Well, no," admitted Sophia, "but then again I'm not an expert on what's medically possible in that particular area of study. You might look, very convincingly I might add, like a man, but I don't know of any way I could test that would prove that you were not previously once a woman."

"That's all right, dear," said Kristina, "we don't really mind what you are in here, or what you're called. If we gave you a woman's name, it would be degrading, and being in the facility is degrading enough. We'll call you Marlon for now. It's not a problem for us, I'll just make a note on your record."

"You do realise that I'm dressed entirely in female clothes?" Marlon said, "Isn't that degrading enough for me?"

Kristina shrugged. "You're in a female facility. It's the standard issue clothing, we don't have any other sort. What do you expect us to do? Do you find it particularly uncomfortable?"

"I find the entire experience uncomfortable," he replied. "The clothes, well, for actual comfort and fit I've no complaints. It's the psychological angle that makes me uncomfortable."

Elena spoke. "Actually, dressing like the other detainees may give you a benefit, in that you won't stand out. If you don't do anything stupid while you're here, you will eventually be allowed to mix with some of the other detainees on the Deck. You may also come into contact with detainees from other Decks. Seriously, if it becomes generally known that a male is up here, you could be in some danger from some of the rougher elements downstairs. We don't want to have to keep you in solitary for your entire sentence."

Marlon hadn't thought of that, and he nodded understanding. "Good point. What do you suggest I do, then?"

"If you want to blend in, you've made a good start. Just keep blending in. Let your hair grow longer, and let the Facility hairdresser style it. Think seriously about using a female name, if only for your own safety. We'll know why you're doing it, and that's all that matters."

"Will you give me some time to think about this?" he asked, "I wasn't prepared for any of this, and I have yet to get my thoughts together."

The two seated Shepherds nodded. Marlon rubbed his chin, and he noticed an obvious stumbling block.

"Do you have anything like shaving equipment in this place?" he asked. "I don't think you have too many bearded women in here. I'd really stand out if I can't shave it off."

Sophia replied, "We don't allow shaving equipment in here, for safety reasons. Some women do suffer from facial hair, and there's a simple surgical procedure we do which permanently removes it."

She came close to Marlon and examined his face. "Funny, I never thought of your stubble when I was examining you. We can clear all your facial hair for you, but it will probably take a week or so of sessions, because there's so much of it, and I must warn you, once it's gone, it's gone for ever."

"Surgical procedure?" asked Marlon, concerned.

"Don't worry. It uses an intense pulse of light to kill the roots of the hairs. We don't cut you open, if that's what you're worried about."

Marlon said, "Can I think about that as well? It would be a big step to take, but I can see the problems I'd have if I allow - or indeed, if you allow - my facial hair to continue growing."

"Of course. I'll call you later on this afternoon to see what you've decided. Now, perhaps, you'd better return to your room."

Sophia escorted him back to his room, released his wrists, and locked him in. Marlon immediately lay down on the bed and began to try and collect his thoughts. His personal terminal chimed. He got up, sat in front of it, and activated the display. Elena's face looked at him.

"Service, Shepherd. What can I do for you?"

"I wondered if you realised that you can choose what you have for lunch. If you use the 'Services' menu and follow it down, you will find meal choices. You have just time to select something before they make up the trays. Otherwise you get whatever's left over."

"I didn't know that. I haven't had much time to find my way round the system. Thank you, Elena."

Marlon decided to spend some time investigating the system, discovering that while he could select what he ate for each meal, each choice affected what was offered for other meals that day. He supposed that made sure that everyone got a balanced diet, but it meant that he had to remember that fact when he decided what to have. Additionally, he found that the system provided a 'diary' function which enabled him to set an early morning alarm, amongst it's usual functions. He wasn't sure what use a diary would be to most detainees, since their day to day existence would mostly be the same. He was still investigating the system an hour later when his chosen lunch banged into the feeding station.

After lunch, he decided to sample any entertainment that might be available. There wasn't much, but he settled on a baseball match he could have on while he tried to make sense of what had happened to him. In fact, he had just got interested in the match when his communicator chimed again, and he got up to take the call. It was Sophia.

"Service, Shepherd."

"Service to you. I was discussing the problem of your facial hair with some of my colleagues and they reminded me that we do in fact have shavers in Sick Bay you could use. We use them to prepare detainees for minor procedures. I could let you use one for a limited period, assuming that you decide to go with the removal procedure. Have you decided yet?"

Marlon fingered his bristles. "I have, Shepherd. It's becoming apparent to me that I need to blend in here in order to accommodate myself to my new circumstances, so yes, if you're giving me the choice, I choose to have my facial hair removed."

Sophia nodded. "Good. I can't schedule anything for you until you've been cleared, and then you'll need at least five sessions. We need a gap after the first session to see if there are any problems, so it's going to take a while before it's completed. As for the shaver, it's battery operated and someone can bring it to your room. Because you're still quarantined, essentially, the shaver will have to be sterilized between uses, and I'll make it available for you to use every other day. Will that be all right?"

"Whatever you say, Shepherd."

"Very well. Someone will bring the shaver up later this afternoon, and it will be on a tray pushed into your feeding slot. The person who brings it will wait till you've finished and bring it directly back. Understand?"

"Yes, Shepherd. You mean I have to use it as soon as it arrives, so that the bringer doesn't have to hang around."

Sophia smiled at him. "I like your attitude. I think you're going to get along quite well in here."

The shaver duly arrived, and Marlon gratefully made his face smooth again. He placed the shaver back on the tray, closed the cover, and went back to his baseball match.

The next week went very slowly. Marlon realised that each day would soon end up much the same as the previous one, and he used his diary to note when he needed to change clothes. He worked at developing a routine to occupy his days. Eventually, Sophia called to tell him that he had been cleared, and that he would be collected the following day for his first facial hair removal treatment.

He was strapped into a diagnostic chair, and his eyes covered by opaque goggles to protect him from the light source. An area under his chin and down his neck was treated, the principle being that the skin there was more sensitive, and that would tell them if the machinery had been calibrated correctly. A soothing balm was applied, and he was returned to his room. By lunchtime the following day, the redness had disappeared and when Sophia arrived during the afternoon to check him over, she was satisfied that he could undergo the procedure without problems.

"We'll keep to a schedule of every other day, to allow your skin time to recover. I'll still have to send the shaver up, for the parts of your face we haven't done yet. Try not to let the shaver get near the areas that have just been treated, it'll probably make them sore." She looked him over.

"Your hair's a bit of a mess. Are the Shepherds not looking after it for you?"

"No, Sophia," replied Marlon, startled. "I didn't know they should be. What do they do?"

"They are supposed to come in every morning and brush it for you. I suppose they haven't done yours so far because it's so short compared to most of the detainees, but it's beginning to look a bit untidy. Do you wash it often?"

"Every second or third day, Sophia. I don't think it's going to get dirty enough for me to do it much more often."

"I'll mention it to them on my way out, so they can add it to their schedule. I'll also ask them to add you to the hairdresser's schedule. She does E Deck once a fortnight. You don't have a lot to play with, but it's a start. I think that's all for now. You'll be seeing me quite frequently since I check everyone on E Deck at least once a week, so do tell me if you have any problems, won't you."

As Sophia got up to leave, Marlon said, "Actually, there is one thing. I don't know if it's an allergic reaction to the material, or whatever the clothes get washed in, or maybe something else, but I'm getting irritation across my chest. Can you have a look, please?"

"Of course. Can you pull your things up for me?"

Marlon obliged, and Sophia inspected his chest. "I notice you're not wearing a bra. That allows the other garments to rub your nipples. It's commonly caused Jogger's Nipple, you might have heard of it."

"Now you mention it, Shepherd, I have. I haven't been wearing the bras because there didn't seem much point, but of course, if it's going to stop the rubbing, then I will."

Sophia nodded. "Anything else? Good. I'll be up to collect you for the next hair removal session some time tomorrow morning then."

The following morning, after his breakfast tray had been collected, he had a visit from one of the day shift Shepherds he hadn't yet met.

"Service, citizen, I'm Belle. I've come to brush your hair for you."

"Oh, yes. Service, Shepherd. What do you need me to do?"

"This can get a little awkward," she said, "because of the limited furniture arrangement in the rooms, so we've found that the best way to do it is if you sit cross-legged on the bed, facing the wall. That gets you at about the right height for brushing."

Marlon climbed on the bed and arranged himself with difficulty.

"Oh, I forgot," Belle said, "can you get comfortable? I'm used to dealing with women who have much more flexible hip joints."

"I can manage, Shepherd. I think I may have to practice to loosen my joints up a little more. How's that?"

"A little closer to the wall, please, then you can brace yourself with your hands on the edge of the bed. How do you want me to do it for you?"

"As you wish, Shepherd. I assume you've talked with the others about my position in here?"

"I have. You have a nasty tangle here. You haven't had your hair combed or brushed since you came here, have you?"

"No, Shepherd. I think I got away with it for a while because it was so short, but, as you say, it needs regular brushing now. Belle, is it? This seems an unnecessary thing for you to have to do, but I assume there's a good reason for it."

"Yes. You know that some of the people on this Deck are under suicide watch, don't you? Good. That means no loose objects in the rooms that might be turned into devices for self harming. On some of the other Decks detainees do have their own brushes and combs, but not up here. We don't mind doing it at all. It means we get to see everyone every day, and it also means that even detainees who are doing solitary aren't left without visitors all day."

She put a hand on his shoulder, and leaned forward. "You do realise that you are currently in solitary status, don't you? Most detainees usually are for the first month or so, so it's not a punishment or anything like that, it's just to give you a chance to settle in. Of course you're a special case, so you might be on your own for longer, I don't know."

"I didn't know that, Shepherd. I don't seem to know very much about what's going on at all."

"When I'm finished with your hair, I'll show you how to find your case file. You won't be able to change anything, and some of the file won't be visible to you, but you'll at least be able to find out what's happening to your status here, and how any appeal or parole hearing is progressing. Most detainees check their file every morning, just to see if anything has changed."

"I didn't know such a thing existed. Thank you, Shepherd."

His file contained very little, as he had suspected it would. The detainment order, the transfer order, his current status, and the number of days remaining were displayed. The link to his appeal did not function, so they assumed that it was still in some pending state.

Marlon thanked Belle, and after she had locked him in, he went and inspected himself in the bath cubicle, where a sheet of polished steel was securely fixed over the washbasin. She had brushed his hair into a style that could be either male or female. It wouldn't stay like that, of course. He decided to have a chat with her the following morning and see if he could arrange for her to do it while his hair was damp, to enable it to dry into a simple style.

He looked at his face. The shadow from the bristle darkened his cheeks and chin, and he wondered what his face would look like when it was all gone. At least he wouldn't have to shave for much longer. It was a morning chore, as for every man, but it wasn't something he would lose sleep over if he never had to do it again. Perhaps it would make him look younger.

The very last hair removal session was the worst, since it was the stiffest bristles on his top lip. By now he had become used to the discomfort, but this occasion was so painful that he had to be given a pain relief injection before he could be led back to E Deck.

After that, his life turned into a dull routine, enlivened only by the daily visits of the Shepherds who did his hair, and occasionally stayed to talk to him, and by visits from Sophia to check his health. He started doing the channel twelve exercises each morning, and in the afternoons he would read the news or a book from the library. All action on his appeal seemed to have stalled somewhere, not that he had much expectations on that score anyway.

The hairdresser came, one of a small team of Shepherds who did nothing else but circulate the facility trimming and styling the detainees' hair. She was accompanied by two detainees who apparently were some sort of trusty, their status being indicated by royal blue cuffs to the sleeves of their brown dresses. These were the first detainees Marlon had seen since the day he had arrived at the facility.

Some rooms nearest the watch station had been converted from residential purposes for other uses, and one of these had become a Treatment Room. It held a diagnostic chair which Marlon was strapped into. While the hairdresser trimmed him, her two assistants attended to his finger and toe nails, efficiently trimming and filing them into shape. The three assumed that Marlon was female, and he made no attempt to convince them otherwise. He was returned to his room feeling self-conscious about the attention that they had paid to him.

After about two months in the facility, he had to ask to be taken down to Stores and re-measured, since his smocks were getting tight at chest and hip. His new outfits were a little more shaped, and the dresses he was given had a back zip welded in to make them easier to put on or take off. He mentioned his changing shape at Sophia's next visit.

"I had to get new clothes from Stores, Sophia. I think I'm beginning to put on a little weight, and I feel quite flabby. Is there any chance I can do some real exercise somewhere? The channel twelve routines I do are keeping me flexible, but they don't seem to be getting any weight off."

Sophia grinned. "You could always try eating a little less. What exercise did you have in mind?"

"I used to do a little running," he replied, "I know you're not likely to let me go outside for a long run, so I wouldn't expect that. But what might you be able to offer me?"

"You're in luck, as it happens. There's an Exercise Room on each Deck, I'm surprised no-one's mentioned it to you. There's a couple of running treadmills and a rowing machine in yours. I'll ask the Shepherds to schedule you in some sessions. How long have you been here now? It seems like ages."

"Thank you for reminding me. It's been about two months. Why?"

"I'll ask them about your status. I don't think there's much need to keep you on your own any more." She held up a hand. "I can't promise anything, mind you, I can only offer a medical opinion, but I think it's about time you were able to interact with more people than just the E Deck watch." She paused. "Of course, there may be other reasons than those I've been told about why you're being kept separate, but if there aren't I shall certainly press for a change of status."

"I would appreciate it if you would, Shepherd. Life in here is getting a little boring."

"Not to mention, it's a sure-fire way for someone to get depressed," Sophia said. "As I said, I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything."

The following morning when Elena came to do his hair, she told him that his status would soon be changing.

"We're not going to do it all at once, though," she explained as she brushed his hair, which had been styled into a short bob with a fringe. "We want to introduce you to the others gradually, so what we'll do is to schedule sessions for you in the Exercise Room with one of the other detainees. Once you start doing that regularly, we'll rotate your partners and they'll all get to know you over a period of time. That also means you won't have to deal with everyone at once. When you've been shut away in here it can be a bit overwhelming."

"Thank you, Elena."

"You'll need to contact Stores and ask them to send up some running kit for you. You'll need shorts, a running top and a pair of running shoes if you're going to use the treadmill."

"Of course, Elena, I'll do that directly you've finished."

His running kit arrived that afternoon, and Elena brought it to him. The running top and shorts were in the same green as his dresses and had obvious feminine styling, but Marlon hadn't expected anything else. He looked with interest at the shoes. No laces, obviously, but touch-closure straps for a comfortable fit.

"I would keep those purely for your running," she advised. "There's nothing to stop you walking around in them at other times, but you'll wear them out if you do that. We've scheduled you for a slot later tomorrow morning. If you carry on as normal and do the channel twelve exercises like you've been doing, by the time someone fetches you, you'll be nicely warmed up."

When Linda, the fourth of the day Shepherd team, led him out the following morning, he was quite nervous. He had changed into the running kit, leaving his briefs and sports bra on underneath. She took him to the other half of the corridor, to a room corresponding to the Treatment Room, and opened the door. Inside was Belle and another woman, who was striding along on one of the two treadmills.

"Grace, this is Marion. She'll be joining you for your exercise today," introduced Linda. "I'll leave you both in Belle's capable hands," she said, and left the three of them in the room.

Marlon looked at the other detainee. She was a little shorter, much smaller in build, and fair against Marlon's dark colouration. She looked to be about forty years old or so. He climbed onto the other treadmill, and Belle came over.

"I suggest you start out real easy to begin with," she said, "since it's been a good while since you've done anything like this sort of exercise. You've put on a bit of weight, as well, so that's going to make it seem harder as well. I'll show you how to operate the controls."

Marlon decided that a fast walk was probably enough for his first session, and soon worked up quite a sweat. He recognised that if he did this regularly he would have to change his bathing habits.

"Is this your first time in here, then?" asked Grace after a while. Marlon glanced at Belle, but she just waved her hand. It appeared that talking was permitted.

"Yes," replied Marlon. Over the course of a conversation, he told her his story, but omitted the fact that he was a man. He found that he could answer most of the questions truthfully without that information being significant. In return, he discovered that Grace had been convicted of murdering her baby while suffering from post-natal depression. Though she seemed to have come to terms with it now, she was still under the close scrutiny of Sophia. All too soon the session came to an end and he was ushered back to his room.

That week he did four half-hour sessions, all of them with Grace. The following week, he was allowed hour sessions, part on the treadmill and part on the rowing machine. His time on the machines overlapped with that of other detainees, so from then on he was introduced to most of the remaining people who lived on E Deck, save two who were judged to be insane, and two more who were on close suicide watch. His fitness recovered, but curiously, his flabbiness didn't fade. His skin still remained soft, and the excess still remained on his chest and hips.

After four weeks his status was changed from "at risk, isolated" to "at risk", and he was allowed to leave his room during the day to visit the other detainees. Kristina explained how this worked.

"After the breakfast and lunch trays have been collected, and the catering trolleys have gone down in the lift, your door will be released. You'll get to recognise the click, no doubt. Whenever your tell-tale is green, that means you are free to leave your room. If you want to leave your room, just open the door and come out, you don't have to ask anyone. If you are happy to have someone visit you, then leave your door open. Similarly, you can visit anyone who has left theirs open. If you wish privacy, just close your door. The room next to the Treatment Room is a small lounge with a few chairs and a drinks dispenser, if several of you wish to have a chat. There's another one in the other half next to the Exercise Room, and you can visit that as well if you want to. Just remember not to neglect anything you have been doing, such as the channel twelve exercises or your treadmill sessions. A chime will sound when you have to go back to your rooms."

Marlon's new routine thus changed to include social visits during the afternoon. In his old life, he had not been that talkative, with anyone much except his partner and a couple of close friends at the factory where he had worked. He discovered that he quite liked talking to the motley selection of women who made up E Deck. He found that he could understand their problems and sympathise with them, recognising that many of them had had little choice in the actions that had led them to be sent to the facility.

He had to be careful in the reminiscences he told to them, in case they figured his secret out, but in the end a tiny mistake meant that they all learned what he was.

"What did you say you did again, before you came here?" asked Martha, a large woman who had stolen money, and who was on E Deck through risk of self-harming.

"I was a Machinist, First Class," he replied, absent-mindedly.

"What, you operated a sewing machine?" asked Jill, who had killed her partner before he could murder her, and who was consumed by guilt.

"No, I operated a milling machine."

"Flour, you mean?"

"No," he replied patiently, "I operated a fifty-tonne computer-operated milling machine, making industrial pumps from castings, and other parts for power stations and chemical works."

This information was greeted by the group of eight women in the lounge with dead silence. They all knew that, however much the State harped on about the equality of men and women, there were certain jobs which men did, and certain jobs which women did, and what he'd just told them wasn't one of the latter.

"That's a man's job," one of them said.

"That's right," Marlon said. "That's because that's what I am."

The women stared at him, some showing disbelief, others showing caution.

"You don't look much like a man," accused Martha. "Are you right in the head? If you was a man, you wouldn't be in here, now, would you?"

Marlon sighed, prepared to recount his story yet again, but before he could start, Belle appeared in the doorway. Marlon had realised long ago that all their conversations were monitored by the watch desk. She raised her eyebrow at Marlon.

"Belle," Marlon pleaded, "unless you were prepared to lock my room and throw away the key, there was always a good chance that the E Deck residents would find out what I was. I'd rather they were told the facts by me, rather than have some fantastic tale generated by the rumour factory. Please?"

Belle looked at the other women carefully. Finally, she came to a decision, and addressed them all.

"I'll let Marlon tell his own story -" it was the first time any of them had heard his real name "- but I must warn you all of this. The fact that Marlon is male, yes he is male, must must not be allowed to leave E Deck, for his own safety. I must also warn all of you to be on your best behaviour around him. We don't need any romantic entanglements or unwanted pregnancies up here. If word gets out, or if we get any trouble at all, we might just lock all of you in your rooms and throw away the keys. Understand me?"

There was a stunned silence. Finally a voice spoke.

"If he's really a male, what's he doing in here? Why does he look like a woman?"

"I look like a woman because I'm trying not to be noticed," Marlon answered. "As to why I'm here, you can be sure that it wasn't of my choosing. Belle, will you stay? Some of what I have to tell them may sound a bit fantastic, and I'd like some backup."

Belle assented, and he began his story, from the beginning. The women, who had initially seen him as a potentially destabilising influence, realised that he was the victim of circumstances and that he really had no control over what had happened to him. He was showered with sympathy and made an honorary member of the sisterhood. It seemed apparent that they would all stand together to protect him and his secret. Belle nodded to herself as she realised that Marlon had made the right decision, even though it had seemed shaky to her at the start.

Marlon discovers that his situation is much worse than he could have possibly imagined, but assistance comes from unexpected directions.

---

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.

There followed a slow and strange change of Marlon's status among the women of E Deck, Shepherds and detainees alike. He had previously spoken with nearly all of the detainees who were allowed out of their rooms, and the discussions had been on the basis of woman-to-woman talk. Now those same women recognised that as well as being sympathetic to them, Marlon also had a valuable extra viewpoint which they could use in their conversations. None of them considered him any kind of threat, but a rather valuable asset to the community, and someone who could consider their problems and needs in a way none of them could.

The problem with the Shepherds was the strangest of all. He noticed that one or two of them began discussing the problems of some of the other detainees with him. At first, he just offered an honest opinion, as he would normally do, but in the end he realised what was happening, and brought a stop to it.

"I mustn't give you advice," he told the four day Shepherds who happened to all be together at the Watch desk one day. "I'm just a detainee here. I'm quite willing to give you the benefit of my opinion here, if you ask me something, but I'm not sure you should be asking me. It's bad enough with all the detainees treating me as some kind of sage, but I certainly don't think the Shepherds ought to be doing it as well."

"That's a bit of a problem," said Elena, "since you do seem to be so good at it! We wouldn't take your advice unchecked, but when we have asked you for it you've been right much more often than not. Your point is taken, though. We'll try to keep ourselves in check. Regarding the detainees, now. Do you consider your situation to be likely to cause problems with the running of the Deck?"

Marlon realised that Elena had spoken formally. "Shepherd, I think I understand what you're asking. You want to know if my actions, or indeed the actions of the other detainees, now that they know I'm male, are likely to cause an unstable, or otherwise unwanted situation on the Deck. I think, now that I know what's happening, that the answer is no. I'll make sure that it doesn't get out of hand. You always have the final say, in any case. If any Shepherd tells me to stop, I'll stop. If you think what I'm doing is helpful, and you tell me to continue, I can do that as well. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it. That's the rules, isn't it?"

Elena nodded. "We can agree to that, I think. I, personally, think you're doing a good job up here. We were talking before about how much more pleasant the Deck seems the last few weeks. I wouldn't wonder if you were the reason for that. Even before you told them your story, you seemed to have a way of engaging them we haven't seen for a long while. I think we'll have to check the regulations on exactly what Shepherds and detainees are allowed to discuss with one another, but E Deck has always had it's own interpretation of the rules in any case. Feel free to act a a sob sister to the other detainees if you wish to."

Some weeks later Marlon found it necessary to be taken to Stores once more, as his clothes had begun to get tight on him again. Aside from the tightness at chest and hips, the sports bras were becoming very uncomfortable. The stores keeper laser-measured him, and then changed all his clothes apart from his footwear. He got wider briefs, a better-shaped dress, new nightdresses, wider shorts and a larger sized slip and running top. The stores keeper said he needed different shaped sports bras, and also issued him two pairs of standard bras.

"I don't need these... do I?" he queried.

"If you look at your measurements, you'll see that you would benefit from properly shaped support, like most in here. If you've got those puppies hanging from your chest, you need to wear the right garments to make sure they're properly supported."

Marlon looked down at his chest, and realised that what he had thought was just 'flab' had in fact turned into something different.

"Uh, I suppose you're right. Should I put one on now?"

"Yes, we'd better check the fit. It will also make a difference to your dress fitting, so I want to see you dressed properly before you go back upstairs."

Belle, who had brought him down, helped him to put the bra on, and he was immediately impressed by how well the garment supported him. His breasts weren't clamped tightly to his chest, like the way that the sports bra had made them, but gently supported and held in place. He pulled on the slip and Belle zipped up his new dress.

"How do you feel?" asked the stores keeper.

"I should never have doubted you," said Marlon. "I'm sorry. This all fits so much better now."

"You look a lot better, too," said Belle. "Look in the mirror over there."

Marlon went and stood in front of the mirror. He would not have been able to recognise the person who had arrived six months previously. The person who looked back at him was all woman. Almost all, he checked himself. At least I still have those.

"Satisfied?" asked the stores keeper. "Then off you go. Remember to push all your old stuff down the laundry chute so you don't get it all mixed up."

Belle cuffed him, and then piled all his new clothes onto his outstretched arms before leading him back upstairs. As they went, he became ever more conscious of his new, proudly displayed bustline. By the time they had arrived back at E Deck, he had begun to understand why many women considered their breasts to be such an important part of their bodies.

"Gosh, look at you!" said Martha, after he had put his new clothes away and been let out. "You look great! Is that all really you?" she asked, "It's not just padding to keep up the disguise, is it?"

"No, it's actually all me," he replied. "I'm now wearing a properly sized and fitted bra, that's all. I hadn't realised just how far things had gone."

Martha put her arm round his waist, which he now realised was still quite slender. "Now you're really one of us! You'll appreciate our problems even more. Come on, let's have a drink in the lounge. I bet you can't wait to show yourself off to everyone."

"Well actually, this has come as a bit of a surprise to me," Marlon said, "although I can't say I dislike the effect, I didn't ask for this to happen to me. I'm not sure why it has."

"Don't ask me," replied Martha, "although there have been rumours that some facilities put things in the water. I wonder if something like that has happened here. It would affect you, but not the rest of us because we already have breasts."

"Don't start making any conspiracy theories yet," cautioned Marlon, "I think I need to make a few discreet enquiries and see if I can find out what's going on. Besides, they'd hardly medicate the water for the whole facility just to fix a single male detainee, would they?"

But though he showed off his new assets to the rest of the group, to general approval and much friendly laughter, a part of his mind was working on the question of what had been done to him and why. It was a thoughtful Marlon who was locked into his room that night.

The following morning, he got up and showered as usual, but after he had blown himself dry he stood naked in front of the steel mirror and examined himself. It had taken six months or so for his body to change the way it had, and it had all happened so slowly that he hadn't realised the full implications of what was happening to him. He noticed now for the first time that his nipples were much larger, and the dark area surrounding them was much bigger, as a woman's were. His breasts were not particularly large, as such things went, but they were undeniably female breasts.

He cupped his hands under them, just the same way that he had cupped those of Anna, his dead partner, and realised just how sensitive they were, and how Anna must have felt when he cupped hers. These breasts would look good on a woman, he thought. He looked at his smooth, soft, pale face, with it's feminine, shaped hair, his narrow waist, his broad hips, his tapering legs, his smooth calves. These breasts are on a woman. I am a woman. They've turned me into a woman.

The shock of the realisation nearly drove him to his knees. Somehow he recovered, and started dressing. Breakfast would be delivered soon. With muscles that threatened to turn to jelly, he pulled on briefs, bra, slip and dress, and zipping himself up he walked back into the bathroom and looked at himself again, seeing himself in his new clothes clearly for the first time. But I am a man. This is not right. I don't deserve to have this happen to me. The shock hit him again, but this time he was unable to resist, and he folded on to the floor, curling up into a ball.

The breakfast tray thumped unheeded into the feeding station slot. Five minutes later, Belle slammed the door open and rushed into the room. Marlon was wedged half in and half out of the cubicle entrance, and this made it difficult for Belle to determine whether or not there was some kind of medical problem. Finding that he was shaking, and crying uncontrollably, she relaxed slightly, although the situation could still be serious.

Moments later Kristina joined Belle, and the two of them gently got Marlon up and onto the bed, where he sat hunched up, still weeping.

"Talk to me, dear," Belle said softly. "What's happened to you? Why are you so upset?"

Kristina went to the feeding station and retrieved the cup of tea, which she brought over to the bed.

"Marlon," she said, "drink some of this. Come on. We want to help you. You've helped so many of the others, we want to do the same for you."

He accepted a sip of the now cooling tea, and sat there shuddering, his eyes wet. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely audible.

"I don't want to be like this. They've made me into a woman. I'm not a woman, I've never been a woman. Now I'm stuck like this for ever."

Belle wrapped her arm around him. "Oh, you poor thing. It must have come as such a shock to you when you realised. Look. Come and have your breakfast, and we'll look after you today. Keep your door closed, and we'll do some research and see what we can find out for you." She looked significantly at Kristina. "Something's plainly not right here."

The two Shepherds persisted, and eventually he was helped over to the feeding station where the women made him eat at least some of his breakfast. Then Kristina left, pulling the door closed behind her, leaving Belle with him. She made him sit on the bed, and she sat close to him, so that she could put her arm around him.

"Tell me all about it," she commanded.

"I didn't realise what was happening to my body," he began, haltingly. "I just thought I'd got fat in here because I wasn't exercising like I used to. Even when we went down to stores yesterday and I was given the bras it really didn't register. It was only when I saw myself this morning after my shower that I realised what they did to my body."

"We all thought you were supposed to be a woman who changed herself into a man. That's why you got sent to a female facility, after all. Perhaps someone decided that you ought to be turned back into a woman," Belle suggested.

"They turned me into a woman, all right," Marlon said, bitterly, "but they couldn't turn me back into one, because I was never one in the first place. Now I'm just a male mind in a female body."

"I can tell that," said Belle softly, "although you've looked female for quite a while there's a certain something about the way you acted and spoke that marked you out as not being typically female. There are certain of us Shepherds who were concerned about your placement here, although you've managed to fit in well."

"What do I do?" he said, tearfully.

"Like I said, we'll do some digging and find out what's going on. Once we've done that, we'll see what action is possible," she replied. "Our job is to guide and protect our charges, and we'll do that to the best of our ability, even if it means making waves. Leave that to us. Your first job is going to be to adapt to your new circumstances, I'm afraid. As you pointed out, you've got a female body now, you're going to have to learn to live with it."

He burst into tears again. Belle used his small towel to mop his face dry. She put her finger under his chin, and tilted his face up.

"Look, being a woman all my life hasn't done me any harm. I don't say you're going to find it easy, but you're probably in the best place to do it. Everyone on E Deck will rally round you, just you watch. Besides, you're not entirely female, are you?"

"No, that's true. But I don't know if I'm sterile now or not. It depends how they did it, I suppose."

"We'll have a look at how they did it. I'm not entirely sure how we'll manage that, but there's an authorised process for those who want to do gender reassignment, so we'll start there and find out how that works."

"Why do I feel so terrible?" he asked. "I never used to fall to pieces like this before."

Belle prodded his leg gently with her free hand. "To give you this body, I guess they pumped you full of chemicals and hormones," she said, "and by now you're probably making hormones of your own. Welcome to the world I live in, dear sister."

The tears flowed and Belle mopped again.

"As I said," she added, "being a woman hasn't harmed me. You'll soon learn how to recognise your emotions and how to adapt to them. There are many compensations to being female as well, you know."

Marlon eventually calmed down, and he and Belle spent the rest of the morning talking quietly. The rest of the day shift left them alone, as they understood how badly he had been shocked, even though it left them a person short. Lunch was delivered, and Belle had to use Marlon's terminal to be let out so that she could eat her own lunch. He had assured her that he could now be left on his own, and that he would call if he felt the need.

His tray had only been removed for about a minute when his door opened, and Elena stood in it.

"Marlon, I understand the shock you must be feeling. It's my opinion that you could do with a little bit of exercise. Come and walk up and down the corridor with me before we let the others out of their rooms, you can have a little bit of peace out here and get your breath." As she said this, she beckoned him with the fingers of one hand.

Curious, Marlon walked unsteadily out into the corridor. Elena put her arm round his waist.

"Now lean your head on my shoulder, and listen to me while we walk."

As they turned away from the watch station Marlon was surprised to see the trolley with the lunch trays being pushed through the open gate at the end of the corridor by a woman in a brown dress. Up till now, none of the detainees had ever seen the food trays being delivered or collected. He became aware that something unusual was happening.

He actually had to rest on her shoulder, and accept her support, because his legs were weak. He hadn't realised how much the revelation had affected him. In some respects he was glad that Elena had made him come out and walk off some of the effects, but that seemed to be only part of the reason for her actions.

"Firstly," she said quietly, "we're out here because it's safe to talk. There are video pickups out here, it's true, but no audio. In all the rooms, and round the watch station, everything is monitored all the time. I don't want what I say to you to be recorded. Now, you're tired, lean against this pillar a moment."

It was true, he had to stop. Marlon realised that they must have had a number of incidents up here for her to read his state so accurately.

"If you hadn't already worked it out, I'm the senior Shepherd for E Deck. That means I have responsibility for the smooth running of the Deck, and I'm also responsible for ensuring that my Shepherds also obey the rules and don't get tangled up with unusual occurrences. Kristina and Belle reported to me what happened this morning, and I also saw some of it on the monitors. All the other detainees on the Deck now know what happened, don't ask me how. Belle is convinced that your reactions this morning prove that the story you have been maintaining is true. Time to walk a bit more, I think."

She helped him down to the grille at the end of the corridor, and turned back.

"She's not the only one. I think it would be hard for most people to fake what happened to you this morning. But I have to consider all the rest of the detainees, as well. If things get out of hand, we could end up with a discipline problem here, and that could mean a lock-down, or at worst, you would all be split up and sent to other facilities. That might happen to the Shepherds as well."

Marlon looked at Elena unhappily. E Deck was a happy place, and he didn't want to be the trigger that caused it to be broken up.

"As I said before, Shepherd, tell me what I must do and I'll do it," he said quietly.

"Just keep things calm, will you? Try and play things down a little. We'll help you, sure. It's only natural that detainees get an interest in their case files, most of them are trying to look for a reason why they shouldn't be in here, after all. Most give up after a month or two once they've seen the evidence that got them sent here. Your case is a little different, and there is no reason why you shouldn't discuss that with any of the Shepherds or any of the other detainees. But if you occupy too much of the Shepherds' time, or you create a circus in here, someone up above may take steps."

"I understand, Shepherd."

"So we don't distract the Shepherds too much, I'm going to ask Belle to be your point of contact, as it were. She'll be quite happy to do that, and she's most closely connected with you at the moment in any case. The rules will allow me that much, I think. Further, although we have access to your file, we can't actually do much more with it than you can. We're not legal advocates, after all, just glorified minders. I wonder... I have a thought, I'll discuss it with Belle after I've helped you back to your room. Feel any better?"

They had reached the grille separating his half of E Deck from the watch station, and turned again.

"Actually, yes, Elena, I do. I hadn't realised how badly I'd been affected. I'm sorry if I worried any of you."

"And that is what inclines me to think you're telling the truth. However, officially, I have to believe that the court proceedings were valid, so the rules still apply to you and me. Understand?"

"I do understand. Can we go down the other end again, please? Then I'll go in and you can let everyone else out."

"We can manage that. I don't think anyone's going to object to a minute or two longer before we open up."

By the time he got back to the doorway of his room, the waves of weakness had stopped passing up and down his legs, and his breathing seemed steadier. He went inside, closed the door and lay down on his bed. He was asleep within seconds.

A knock on the door awoke him, and he slowly rolled to his feet and walked unsteadily to the door. When he opened it, Belle stood waiting.

"You look a bit better than you did this morning," she said. "I want you to come with me and meet someone, if you feel up to it."

Marlon brushed the creases out of his dress and joined her in the corridor. They walked towards the watch station, Belle wary in case his footsteps wobbled. They passed the watch station and walked through into the other half of the Deck.

"The person I want you to meet is a bit of a recluse, but I think we may be able to persuade her to help. You see, she used to be a court clerk."

"A court clerk? A detainee? What's she doing in here?"

"She fiddled some court records for her lover, and got found out. He was a major criminal. She's up here because she's associated with the system. If she got sent to a normal Deck, they'd kill her the same as if a Proctor or an Enforcer - or a Shepherd - ended up inside. She fears being attacked, so she keeps to her room unless she can't avoid it. But she knows the procedures, so she'll be useful."

"Will she let is in, if she's so scared?"

"I hope so. I don't want to have to lean on her if I can avoid it. If I do that, she might not co-operate. Here we are."

It was one of the rooms almost at the far end of the corridor. The door was closed, but the tell-tale was green. Marlon knocked on the door. After a short delay it was opened, and an older woman peered out, her face closed when she saw the green dress in front of her. She started to close the door.

"I don't want any visitors. That's why my door is closed."

Marlon said, quickly, "I'm a man."

The door stopped closing briefly. The woman looked at him a bit more closely, her eyes flicking over his face and down his body.

"Yeah, right. And I'm a banana." The door started closing again.

"I can prove it," said Marlon, desperately. He bent down, grabbed hold of the hem of his skirt and started to lift it.

"Delusional," said the woman. "Like most of the sad cases in here. Clear off, and leave me in peace."

Belle stepped into view.

"Shepherd," the woman acknowledged, but didn't say or do anything more, just stood there with the door half-closed. She didn't want to openly defy Belle by slamming the door in her face, but equally didn't care to have her peace disturbed.

"Do you want him to expose himself in the corridor, Talya?" Belle asked the woman. "Let us in. He needs your help."

Talya's eyes flicked at Belle's use of the word 'he', but the suspicion never left her face. Reluctantly, she opened the door and gestured for them to enter. They walked into the room and stood awkwardly, Talya's attitude clear that they were not welcome.

With a glance at the Shepherd for permission, Talya said, "Show me."

Marlon pulled up his skirt and, hooking a thumb in his underwear, pulled them down to show Talya his penis and testicles. Her eyebrows rose up and stayed up. Marlon pulled up his briefs and smoothed his skirt back down.

"What are you doing in this place, then?" Talya asked. "Are you a man who's been posing as a woman?"

"Quite the opposite," Marlon said, "they think I'm a woman who's been posing as a man."

Talya's eyebrows rose again, and she said, "You have my interest. I'm sorry for the poor welcome. Please come in and sit down."

Marlon sat on the bed beside Talya, while Belle perched on the end of the feeding station seat.

"I know you," Talya said. "You've been on the treadmill a couple of times when I've been there. What's your name?"

"Marlon," he said, "but there's reason to believe they also think I'm called Marion."

"Well, Marlon, or Marion, I'm Talya. Let's hear your story, then."

Marlon gave his oft-repeated story, without interruption from Talya. At the end, she frowned.

"You've only told me the overview. I need to hear everything."

Marlon shrugged. "I've told you everything I can remember that happened to me. I can't think of much I've left out."

Belle added, "That's the reason we came to you, Talya. Much of what happened to Marlon makes no sense."

Talya grunted. "I still find it hard to believe you're a man, despite the evidence. Outwardly, you look entirely female. Just a moment -" She held her hands up, one palm outwards, one palm inwards with thumbs extended, to make a frame. She framed Marlon's mouth, and then his eyes. "- that's interesting. Your mouth is typically feminine, but your eyes definitely aren't. You're not one of those intermediate gender people, are you? Born with both sets of characteristics?"

"Talya," Belle said, "When he came in here six months ago he was completely and properly male. He's been changed since then to look like he is now. One of the things we need to know is how it was done."

"I need to see your file," Talya said, rising. "With your permission, of course." She walked to the personal terminal and sat down, patting the seat beside her. "Sit here, you need to be close for this to work."

Marlon and Belle looked at each other. Marlon got up and sat beside Talya, who thumbed on the terminal. She logged in, and started doing things neither Marlon nor Belle recognised.

"That's strange," she said, "I've got your record up, and there's absolutely nothing on it. Oh, wait, there's a link at the bottom. Ah, the system thinks that the ID you have round your neck is an alias of another one -" her fingers danced over the keyboard, finally bringing up the female record.

"That's the one!" said Marlon. "That's the other record I told you about, that they showed me the day I arrived."

"The photo doesn't do you justice," Talya said. "In fact," she added, looking from the picture to Marlon and back again, "I don't see how the person pictured here could possibly be you without extensive cosmetic surgery." She frowned. "Okay, let's find the record of the offence you committed."

Marlon began to protest, but thought better of it, not wishing to distract Talya in full flow. She waded through the history, and eventually pulled up the sequence that concluded with Marlon arriving at the Facility.

"Five years," she said, "plus five years concurrent, plus 'regression therapy', whatever that is. I suspect that's what they did to you to turn you female. I'll see if I can find out anything on that in a minute. Looking back to the court proceedings, I can't find anything prior to that. When were you charged with this fraud you are supposed to have done?"

"Charged? I've never been charged. The Justiciar asked me, 'Do you deny the charges?' and I answered truthfully that I had never been charged with anything that I knew about. So because of that, they slapped an extra two and a half years on me."

"They would," Talya nodded. "If you refuse to accept responsibility for your crimes, they will give you extra. But, surely, when you were arrested, something must have been said to you. What were you arrested for?"

"I wasn't arrested," said Marlon. "I was taken to the station for investigation, because the Proctor had come looking for that woman and found me instead. He specifically told the Custody Officer that I was not under arrest. I wasn't read my rights, or anything like that."

Talya frowned again. "It sounds like there's been a serious failure of procedure here, and I can't think how that might have happened. What happened to the Proctor who brought you in? Wasn't he around to sort your status out?"

"No, he got sent out to a 'major incident' the first afternoon I was there. I never saw him again."

"Oh, wow. Shepherd, I'm sorry again about the way I acted. This person is definitely going to need my help. This sounds like one impossible mess. I just hope we can find a way to put Marlon here back the way he should be."

"Thank you, Talya," said Belle. "I was fairly certain we had a good case, I'm glad we asked you. I never realised that you could pull up so much information from a detainee's personal terminal. You will help us, then?"

"As much as I'm able, Shepherd, which probably won't be as much help as he needs. But it will be a start. Citizen," she turned to Marlon, "how long has that appeal status been there?"

"Since the day I arrived, I think," he replied, "I was told it was automatic. Nothing much seems to have happened since then, though."

"No, it can take some time, and if your Proctor isn't around, that will delay things even more. But the point I wish to make to you is that they shouldn't have been doing anything to you while you're in appeal status, since any appeal raises the theoretical possibility that you might be innocent. Especially doing something to you that's potentially irreversible. The system ensures that you get dealt with fairly, and changing your gender doesn't strike me as being fair treatment somehow."

Marlon and Belle looked at one another, thunderstruck.

"How could we have missed that one?" Belle asked. "The trouble is, it's all standard procedure, and we don't take a lot of notice of it. I'll talk to Elena about it. Maybe we have a problem at the facility, as well."

"Don't worry about what you can or can't do," Marlon said to Talya, "We came to you more because you'd be able to tell us how the procedure was supposed to operate. I'm delighted that you've managed to find out so much so quickly."

"Thank you. It's relatively easy when you are familiar with the system. I'll do what I can, this looks like one monumental screw up, and I'll be happy to help you navigate your way through what's here, and show you what's been done as well as what should have been done," Talya replied. She shifted her gaze to Belle. "It occurs to me, Shepherd, that the immediate pressing need is for someone to find the Proctor who was following this case."

Belle nodded. "I'll need his ID code. Now I know where to look, I can pull that up on the watch station terminals and try to contact him that way."

"Good. Meanwhile, I'll run through with Marlon what resources he has available to him."

"Talya? We're not keeping you from anything? You're happy with Marlon here in your room?"

Talya shrugged. "There's nothing I was doing that can't wait." She gave a wry grimace. "It's not as if I'm short of time, is it? In fact, Marlon's case is sufficiently... unusual, shall we say, that I consider the mental stimulation it will give me will be ample repayment for any disruption you have caused."

"That's all right then," said Belle with a straight face. "Is it okay if I leave Marlon here with you? There is other work I ought to be getting on with."

"Yes, I'm happy with that. You just find that Proctor."

Belle departed, and Talya went back to the beginning and showed Marlon how she accessed the areas of his records that she had shown them. Marlon, being essentially a skilled manual worker, had not developed much interest in the use of the personal terminals aside from that required for his basic needs. He resolved to put that deficiency right - now he had the time to do so, and a teacher who was willing to lead him through the complex procedures she found so easy to handle.

Eventually, he began to tire as a result of his incident-packed day, and had to go and lie down on Talya's bed for a while. He was forced to concede that he should probably make his way back to his own room and rest.

"You've probably done enough for today," Talya said, "I think you should return to your own room. Dinner will be in about half an hour, in any case. Come back tomorrow after lunch, I may have some further information for you."

"Would you consider coming to my room?" Marlon asked. "I'd like to return the hospitality."

Talya's eyes flickered. "I'm not sure that I could manage that," she said. "I have... issues."

"So I understand. Perhaps we could talk about that tomorrow then? I'm a good listener, so they all tell me."

Talya regarded Marlon warily as he stood and made his way to the door.

Marlon said, "Look, we've all got issues up here. It's the reason we're all on E Deck, after all. There are people out there with much worse problems than yours, I can assure you. I don't want to force you to do anything against your will, but I don't think you'll come to much harm just talking to me about it."

Talya stared at Marlon, and then nodded jerkily. "I can't promise much," she said, "but maybe you're right. I won't promise you much, tomorrow, but I will try and explain."

Marlon waved a hand, and then left, pulling the door shut behind him. Part way back along the corridor, he met Belle, who didn't look happy.

"I'll walk you back to your room," she said. "We've tried to get hold of the Proctor, but it's not possible to do so from the watch station terminals, we can only call internal locations from those. I might have a go this evening when I get home. You look tired."

"It's been a long day, and it didn't start out well," replied Marlon. "I should be a little better tomorrow. Talya wants me to visit her tomorrow afternoon."

After they passed the watch station, Martha came out of the lounge on her way back to her own room. She stopped when she saw Marlon and came over to him, her arms open. Marlon accepted the invitation and went into a hug with the big woman.

"Heard you had problems, honey," Martha said quietly in his ear. "Just let us know what you need, we'll do what we can."

"I'm touched," said Marlon, as indeed he was. "Thank you for your kind words, Martha. I'll talk it over with the crowd tomorrow morning, but for now, just keep it low key. The Shepherds, most of them anyway, are supportive, but we have to be careful not to cause a fuss."

"Whatever you say, sister - or should that be brother?"

Marlon smiled as he released his grip. "Sister will do fine. And thank you again. See you tomorrow."

With a wave, Martha let him go and walked off towards her own door. Belle followed Marlon down to his room.

"Hold me please, Belle," he said as they entered the room. With only the slightest hesitation, Belle gathered him into her arms. Marlon was about the same height as Belle, but he managed to lay his head on her shoulder.

After a while he said, "I didn't know I had such friends in this place. You've all been so good to me."

Belle murmured, "You seem to bring out the best in us. Even Talya. You've got more out of Talya than any of us have in nearly a year. And Martha's as hard as nails, usually. Of course we're all going to rally round you."

"I'm sorry, Belle," he said after a pause, and began to disentangle himself from her. "Am I being too familiar with the staff?" He looked at her, his eyes wet.

"Not at all," she replied. "You forget, this is a women's facility. As I said earlier today, you're in my world now, and the rules are different. We do get closer to the detainees, and the hormones can run a bit high at times. While hugs are not commonplace, they are not that rare, either, especially when someone has a problem."

"Oh. I'm glad to hear that. I found it comforting today to have some physical contact. I just wondered whether it would be considered inappropriate."

Belle shook her head, found Marlon's towel, and handed it to him. "No, not in this case. You needed support, and we gave it, and we'll keep giving it when you need it again." The evening chime sounded. "I've got to go. If you get any problems this evening, call the watch station as usual. Okay?"

"Okay, Belle," Marlon replied as she headed for the door. "Thank you for what you've done today."

"No problem. Good night," Belle said, and she walked out of Marlon's room and pulled the door shut.

Is Marlon paranoid, or is someone really out to get him? He might still be in danger as everyone tries to find out what's going on.

---

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.

The following morning, immediately after the breakfast trays were collected, Belle came in to brush Marlon's hair. She was anxious to bring Marlon up to date while he sat cross-legged on the bed for her.

"I couldn't make contact with your Proctor," she said directly. "Do you know which station he operates out of?"

Marlon shook his head. "No. I was in the back of a closed van, so I've no idea. However, it's in the same building complex as the court I was taken to. Perhaps you can locate it that way."

"Good idea. Now, do you want to come out, today? What's your exercise schedule?"

"I've got treadmill a little later on. I did promise Martha I'd go and tell the girls all about it. I can't say I'm looking forward to that, but it needs doing. And," he caught Belle's eye, "I'll be careful."

When the doors were released, Marlon walked down to the lounge and entered. At once a babble of questions erupted, but it quietened down almost immediately when they saw the look on his face. Marlon told them what had happened the previous day, and there was universal sympathy for his predicament, and not a few wet eyes. He promised to keep them updated about the progress of their investigations and he made them promise not to cause a fuss over his circumstances.

Several of the women felt fairly strongly about what had happened to him, and he had to make them see that almost anything they thought to do to support him might have unfortunate consequences for all of them. It was with some relief that he went back to his room to change into his sports gear for the treadmill session.

After lunch, he went along to Talya's room. He was surprised to find the door slightly ajar - not actually closed, but not wide open either. He still decided to knock on the door and wait for her.

"Do come in," she said, opening the door. "I've been waiting for you."

"Have you any further news?" he asked, as he sat on the seat beside her.

"Not really," she replied, shaking her head. "I've been looking for this procedure they carried out on you, this 'regression therapy', but I've not been able to find out much. Your medical history is of course locked."

"Would Sophia be able to get into it?" Marlon suggested.

"Maybe. She might not be permitted, or willing, to tell us what we want to know, though. Patient records are confidential, even from the patient, especially in a place like this."

"Have you tried to contact her?" he asked.

"I did, but she was out on the Decks when I tried. I left a note asking her to call."

"When I saw 'regression therapy' in my file," Marlon said, "I assumed that it would involve sessions with a shrink, not wholesale body modification. Is there anything else we can do to find out what it is? What about the reference databases?"

Talya nodded. "Possible. I did have a quick search this morning without finding very much."

"What about just looking for 'gender reassignment'? That should give us the basics, surely?"

"Good point." Talya turned to her keyboard, and the two spent the afternoon learning about things they never knew existed, and didn't particularly want to know about. By the time the evening chime went, their heads were spinning with the information overload, but Marlon at least had a vague idea what had been done to him. He went back to his room satisfied with the progress, if not happy with what they'd discovered.

The following morning, Marlon was surprised when his door wasn't released after breakfast. He had considered contacting the watch station, but before he could set up the call his door was opened and Sophia came in.

"Service, Sophia."

"Service, Marlon. I hope you are well?" she asked.

"As to that, have you spoken to any of the Shepherds recently?"

"No, you're nearer the entrance than they are, so I haven't got to them yet. Why, is something up?"

Marlon went and sat on the bed, and patted beside him for Sophia to sit down.

"I had a, don't know what I might call it, perhaps a 'moment of truth' would come quite close, day before yesterday," he explained. Sophia looked at him curiously. "Notice anything different about me?" he asked her.

"No, why?"

Marlon stood up, and stood by the door so she could see him full length properly. He turned to the side.

"You're looking better," Sophia said, finally. "I can't see any other differences. What do you want me to see?"

"I had to go down to Stores three days ago, because my clothes wouldn't fit me - again. They gave me all new outfits to wear, including bras. I need bras because I've got breasts. I've got breasts because I now have the body of a woman - mostly. I shouldn't have the body of a woman, or breasts, because I'm not a woman. I've never been a woman. Why have you done this to me? What's 'regression therapy'? We tried to find out what was going on yesterday, but we can't get at the information because it's medical. What's going on, Sophia?"

Sophia was taken aback by this blast. "I-I don't know," she said quickly. "I don't know the exact details of each detainees' treatment, I just go round and make sure everything is all right. Are you saying this shouldn't have been done? That you're not supposed to be having this treatment?"

Marlon calmed down. "We just don't know, Sophia, because we can't get at the information to make a judgement. But we thought you might be able to do the research for us. Even if you can't tell us much, because it's confidential, you might be able to confirm or deny our suspicions."

"I, well, possibly, I don't know. Who is this 'we' you keep referring to?"

"The Shepherds have taken an interest. And I've been spending time with Talya, who knows a bit about court procedure."

"Talya? Talya? You mean you've been in her room? How did you manage that?"

"She seemed interested in miscarriages of justice."

"You got Talya to open up? I'm impressed." Sophia got very still. "But if you are making an allegation then you must be very careful. The State does not make mistakes in matters like these."

"I'll withdraw or press any allegations when I have enough data to make a decision with," replied Marlon. "Will you help me find out more? It's my own body we're talking about, here."

"Maybe. You'll have to let me be the judge of what I can tell you, though. What's that therapy you mentioned?"

"Regression therapy. It's mentioned as one of the sentences I received. What exactly is it, and am I undergoing it?"

"Will you let me look for you?" she asked.

"Certainly. That was the object of the exercise."

Sophia stood and seated herself in front of the personal terminal. She found his record, and drilled down to the medical detail.

"Yes, you are receiving regression therapy. I didn't know you were. I've no idea what it is. I'm sorry, I'll have to go back to the office and find out for you. I won't be able to do that until this afternoon, as I'm on my rounds until lunchtime." She looked at Marlon. "In fact, this may delay me a little."

"Would this therapy involve drugs, and hormones, do you think?" he asked.

"I don't know. Possibly. If what I see in front of me is the result of this therapy, then almost certainly. But it is on your sentence sheet, you know. If it's been prescribed by the court, we have to do it."

"Even if my case is still in appeal status?"

Sophia swung round to face the still-standing Marlon, her expression one of astonishment.

"Are you serious?"

She swung back to the terminal and worked her way back to the top of his file, checking his status.

"You are serious." She shook her head. "This should definitely not have happened."

Sophia let out a long breath, and at that moment Elena opened the door.

"Sophia, could I have a word, please? Out in the corridor."

"Why, yes, Shepherd." She got up and joined Elena outside, closing the door behind her. After about ten minutes she reappeared, her expression hard.

"Citizen? Elena has explained much to me. I can't spend any more time with you, unfortunately, because my time on any Deck is limited, but it looks like you may have a case - several cases, in fact. When I get back to Sick Bay I will spend some time finding out for you what I can. This might be tricky, as it appears a superior of mine might be involved, so it may take time. Rest assured, I'll tell you what I can, as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Sophia," Marlon answered.

"Right. Now I have to go and rapidly check everyone else on E Deck. If you'll excuse me, citizen?"

"By all means. Am I free to leave my room now?"

"Elena's here, I'll ask her." She turned in the doorway and spoke to Elena, before turning back to Marlon and nodding. "Yes, you are. Service, citizen," she added, then left.

Elena came in and offered to brush Marlon's hair before he left his room, to which he agreed. As she did so, she told him that the Shepherds had been disturbed by recent events, and had held a meeting where they had researched and reviewed as many of the regulations as they thought might be relevant, and had come to some conclusions, which they were keeping to themselves at the moment. She refused to say much more, except that they viewed his position favourably, and that it could be some time before any change in his status might happen, so he should be patient.

The rest of the morning dragged slowly. The detainees in the lounge wanted to talk of his predicament and nothing else, but his previous warnings forced them to skirt the subject, so the conversation was somewhat low key compared to usual.

Eventually, lunch came, and shortly afterwards he knocked on Talya's door. Once comfortable inside, he brought her up to date with the latest discoveries by Sophia. Talya nodded.

"It's much as we suspected, although it's nice to have it confirmed. In some respects," she added, "what's been done to you is not as important as the fact that something has been done to you. And I'm interested to learn that Sophia understands the implications of doing that while you're still in appeal status."

"Yes. She also understands that it could implicate one of her seniors. It may take some time to make any further progress, though. Have you managed to learn anything more?"

Talya shook her head. "No, not much. I'm expecting your Proctor to be the big breakthrough, although I'm also looking at other angles in case we can't get hold of him for some reason."

"Understood. In the mean time, why don't you tell me something about why you're in here? You did say you would."

Talya immediately became defensive. "This could be difficult for me." She paused, trying to find a way to explain. "I made a big mistake," she said eventually with a sigh, "I got romantically involved with the wrong person. Everything seemed to be working out so well, and then he started asking me questions about what I did during the day. Turns out love really is blind, he was a known criminal. He did tell me, though, that his interest in me was real, that he did love me, I don't know if that's true any more. Trouble is, my position as a court clerk was too good an opportunity for his associates to pass up. They pressured him, and he pressured me, and I changed a few things I shouldn't have. I'm not clever enough to do that without getting caught, and so I got caught. So did he, but his associates got away."

She smiled wanly. "Everything seemed to be going along just right, and then, bang! Suddenly, I'm on the wrong side of the dock, and I end up in here. I begin to understand how you must have felt."

"Only partly," responded Marlon, "until that day I'd never even seen the inside of a court room. I didn't even know why I was there."

"True. But for me, as for you, it was still a shock, as I saw myself as part of the forces of law and order, and suddenly I'm a criminal. Now I'm in limbo, because the system won't trust me any more, so I can't go back to my job in court, and the criminals don't trust me either, since I helped to put many of them into the Facilities."

"What are you afraid of, in here? That someone will kill you? I think instead you'll find a lot of sympathy for your position."

"How so? I'm part of the system, in their eyes."

"You're also a woman, and you've fallen in love, which most of them - and myself - can relate to. When love comes along, reason goes out the window. You know that. So do most of the women up here. I think you're being far too harsh on yourself," Marlon said.

"You think that? You're not exactly an expert on what goes on in these places. What makes you think you know how they'll respond to me? Besides which, I feel guilty for having betrayed the people and the system I worked for," she replied.

"Firstly," Marlon explained, "I know, fairly well, all the detainees on E Deck who are allowed out of their rooms, yourself excepted. There are four up here who aren't let out at any time, in my opinion those four should be in a hospital, but I digress. Yes, I can promise you you're not in any danger from any of them. Especially if I guarantee it, and I do."

Talya's eyes grew round. "You can do that?" she whispered. "Perhaps I've been sticking my head in the sand for too long." She looked at Marlon. "You said, 'Firstly'. Is there more?"

"Yes, in addition, practically everybody on E Deck, and probably most of those in the rest of the facility, has been betrayed by someone or by the system. We can all identify with your guilt, your anger and your frustration. You're one of us, all right."

Talya looked troubled. "You may well be right. I don't know what to do about it, though. I don't even know if I want to do anything about it. I've shut myself in here for so long I've probably made myself agoraphobic. How can I face the outside world again?"

"You have to do it slowly, just like I did," he replied. "Take it a day at a time. I suggest that I bring people to visit you, one at a time, so that you aren't crowded. I'll stay and help, if you like. Or you could ask one of the Shepherds to stay. Do you trust the Shepherds?"

"Yes and no. I don't have a lot to do with them if I can help it."

"You're missing out on a great deal," he said. "I've had nothing but friendship and goodwill from them since I've been here. I don't say they'll treat everyone the same, but the ones on E Deck, at least, have no reason to treat anyone up here badly."

"You paint a picture of life outside my door which is quite different to the one I had imagined," Talya admitted, "You've given me much to think about. You really do see things clearly, don't you?"

"So they tell me," Marlon said with a smile. "Are you interested?"

She thought, and then said, "I'll talk to you again tomorrow, if you don't mind. I'm going to have to do some serious thinking of my own tonight. But," she added, "I'll make sure I don't neglect what I've been doing for you. Your predicament is much more important to deal with than mine."

"Perhaps it's time I went," he decided, "and left you to sort yourself out. I'll come by tomorrow afternoon, then."

He let himself out of her room and walked back to the watch station. Linda looked up at him as he approached.

"Progress?"

"No and yes," he replied. "Not much more to add to my own file, I think, but I may have just talked Talya into rejoining society."

"You've done what?" asked Kristina, her eyebrows raised.

Marlon held his hands out, palms down. "Don't get excited. It's an ongoing project. It'll probably take some time, perhaps a week or two. But I've given her a lot to think about, and she sounds receptive."

"You're amazing, you know that?" Linda said. "We tried for months to get her out. Even Sophia tried. I can't imagine how you did it."

"Perhaps it's my sisterly touch," he suggested with a twinkle. Linda spluttered.

Kristina said, "Seriously, you do have some kind of touch. Have you given a thought to what you might do when you leave here? I can't see you going back to heavy engineering, myself. Why don't you think about some kind of career as a counsellor, or something like that? You'd need to go on a course, I don't know how you'd manage the theoretical side, but I don't see a problem for you if you wanted to change career like that. Might even get State help."

"Hmm. I haven't given any thought about what happens when I get out, probably because I thought I'd still got more than four years before that happens. But your suggestion has merit, I'll consider it."

He walked into the lounge in a totally different frame of mind from the last time he came. He explained to the group there about his visit to Talya, and her fears. He had difficulty getting them to understand that her mental view of the facility was completely different to theirs, and how he had talked her into gradually opening up - he hoped. The women expressed concern at Talya's attitude, and assured Marlon that they would co-operate in his project to bring her into the community.

That evening, after dinner, Alex broadcast to the Deck, saying that the low numbered end, where Marlon was, would be kept locked in the following day, as they would be taken individually down to Sick Bay for breast and cervical screening. She apologised for the short notice, as the schedule had been brought forward.

The following morning, after breakfast, Marlon had nothing to do except wait, so he used the time investigating the courses which were on offer to the detainees. Most of these were fairly basic, as the general intelligence of the average detainee wasn't that great, but there were one or two courses which interested him, and he was reading the prospectuses when the door opened.

"Citizen. Time to go for your yearly breast and cervical screening. Hands in front."

His escorts were two medical orderlies, whose jobs were apparently just to convey the women up and down to Sick Bay. When they reached it, he was led into a different area to normal, where another detainee was standing, along with her own pair of orderlies. Shortly, the other detainee was taken away, and a little while later, he was led to an examination room. His cuffs were removed.

"Underwear off, citizen."

"Pardon, Shepherd?"

"Your underwear. You don't need to take anything else off for this first examination."

Marlon reached up under the skirt of the dress and pulled down his briefs. One of the orderlies held out a tray, and he dropped the briefs on it. Then he realised what they were about to do.

"I don't think there's much point in me doing this, Shepherd," he said.

"Everyone gets tested, it's the rules." The two orderlies moved towards him. Marlon held up his arms, slowly, to show he obeyed, walked quickly towards the examination chair and lay on it. The two orderlies strapped him down, not being particularly gentle about it. As they did so, a harassed looking woman came in through another door carrying a bowl with some test sticks in it.

"Good morning," she said without looking at Marlon. "This won't take long, and then you'll be taken to have your breasts scanned. Will you adjust the chair for me, please?" she asked one of the orderlies.

Marlon was tilted back and his legs raised and separated. The orderly pulled Marlon's skirt up out of the way, and then stopped, staring at the exposed pelvic area.

"Doctor -"

"What?" The woman was pulling up Marlon's record in the room's terminal. She turned round, and jumped when she saw what the orderlies were goggling at.

"What nonsense is this?" she said, "Is this some kind of joke?"

"If you'd bothered to look at my record before you put me in this chair, you'd have found out that I was a man when I came into this facility," Marlon said, greatly daring.

The woman peered at the blank space between his scrotum and his anus, and then turned back to his record.

"I'll forgive your impertinence, since you're substantially correct," the woman said after a good look at his file. She gestured to the orderlies. "Let her, I mean him, go."

Marlon was released. He stood up and straightened his dress, collected his briefs and put them on again. The woman spoke again.

"What about those?" she asked. "Are they real?" She pointed to his breasts.

"Yes, Shepherd. They're not that big, but they're real."

She looked at him suspiciously, trying to decide whether he was being impertinent again.

"Very well, looks like you'll be having them scanned." To the orderlies, she instructed, "Take him outside and wait for the scanner as normal, would you?"

Without another word, she picked up her bowl and departed. The orderlies cuffed him again, and took him back to the waiting area. One of the orderlies looked at him curiously.

"If you're really male, what are you doing in here, then?" she asked.

Marlon replied, "It's a long story. It's also medically privileged information, so it would be best if you don't discuss what you saw here with anyone, if you get my meaning."

"Of course, citizen," the woman said, "but it was just a bit of a shock seeing those, especially as you look just like any other woman in here."

"Yes, well, I didn't look anything like this when I arrived here," Marlon said.

Before he could say anything more, a door opened and Sophia poked her head round.

"Next! Oh, service, Marlon. Come on through."

They followed Sophia through the corridors of Sick Bay until they came to a large room almost filled by a big machine which Marlon recognised as a body scanner.

"I'm going to have to ask you to strip in order to feed you into the machine," she explained. "You can keep your briefs on. Cuffs, please, citizens," she instructed the orderlies. "You can relax," she added to them, "Marlon's not going to be any trouble to us."

Once he stripped off, he approached the machine. Sophia spoke with a note of apology in her voice.

"I'm sorry, you're going to be strapped into this beast. It's not for security, this time, it's because we don't want you to move about while the scan is happening." Marlon stood by the table. "You are going to have to lie face down, as well."

He noticed that the table on rails on which the patient lay had a section of the upper body area missing. He supposed this would allow the patient's breasts to dangle down so that they could be scanned more efficiently. Sophia helped him to lay on the table. She rested his arms by his sides, and strapped them there. Straps also went in the usual places - waist, upper torso, thighs, ankles. His head rested in a padded ring, face down, so that he was looking at a section of the painted surface of the table under the padding. A pad was placed either side of his ears, and a strap was passed over all to firmly lock his head in place. He found that a lip at the bottom of the ring held his jaw in place. The only things he could move were the tips of his fingers, and his toes.

Sophia's voice came to him, which would have made him jump if he had been able to. There were obviously headphones inside the ear pads.

"Right. The machine's going to pull the table inside, and then we'll begin the scan. When I'm ready, I shall ask you to hold your breath for a short while, so your rib cage isn't moving. Understood?"

Marlon managed a grunt in reply, and then the table was drawn into the machine.

"Just hold your - Director. What can I do for you? I'm in the middle of a scan."

Of course Marlon couldn't see anything that was going on. He couldn't hear the person Sophia was speaking to, either, apart from a murmuring.

"Yes, Director, but that will delay us. I've got several..."

(murmur)

"I know he's a special case."

(murmur)

"Let me get this straight. You want a full scan of torso and abdomen as well as the normal breast scan?"

(murmur)

"What about arms, legs and head, then?"

(murmur)

"Send the scans through in the normal way, then?"

(murmur)

"Yes, Director, I will send them direct to you."

There was a delay of a few seconds, and then Sophia said, "Marlon? Sorry about that. Now, hold your breath for me, please."

The machine started up, with a high-pitched whine that made Marlon's teeth ache.

"And relax. Now the Director wants me to do a scan of your body. Much the same as before, except you'll have to hold your breath for longer. Ready?"

Marlon grunted again, and the whine began again.

"Now, hold your breath... fine. Five seconds longer, please... and relax. The scan will take a little longer to complete. Good, we're finished." The table began withdrawing from the machine, and the orderlies started unstrapping Marlon as soon as the buckles came within reach.

Sophia insisted on helping him to dress again, and he realised it was no coincidence that found her mouth next to his ear.

"You heard the conversation, yes? Something's going on. Tell Elena what happened down here."

She turned to the two orderlies, and Marlon presented his wrists for the cuffs.

"Take him directly back to E Deck, please, as quickly as you can. I would suggest that you use the stairs this time. When you get there, take him directly to the watch station."

"Yes, Doctor. At once."

Marlon was rushed back to E Deck, his thoughts turning over what had happened in Sick Bay, and what the events might mean. For Sophia to issue instructions like that, implied she was very concerned about what was going on. He realised it was no coincidence that the mike had been left open during the Director's visit, and that Sophia had wanted him to overhear the conversation.

He reached the watch station, and the orderlies released him and went to collect their next detainee for scanning. The look on Marlon's face, and the fact that he hadn't been returned to his room, alerted them to the fact that something had happened.

"I feel faint," Marlon said, "Would one of you walk with me for a while?" He looked at Elena meaningfully.

"Sure," she said, and, taking his arm, led him through into the far end of the deck. She put her arm round his waist, and as they walked slowly to the end, Marlon told her what had happened.

"That gives a strong clue as to who or what's responsible for your changing into a woman," she muttered. "The fact that she's interested in your internal organs as well as your external ones leads me to suspect she might want to take a direct hand. You did want to keep your genitals as they are, didn't you?"

Marlon, who hadn't put two and two together, was shocked. "You think she's meaning to hijack me and chop them off? That's terrible! No, I don't want to be changed. Or if I did, in the future, I would want it to be my decision, not someone else's."

Elena nodded. "As I would expect. This goes far above neglect or incompetence, and starts to look more like malice. We have to take steps to protect you. Time for a council of war, I think. We'll need Talya. Do you think you can entice her out? We'll use the Treatment Room."

Elena walked back to the station, and he returned back up the corridor to knock on Talya's door. Behind him, Elena was whispering in the ears of the other day Shepherds.

"Marlon?" Talya said as she opened the door. She had been doing the channel twelve exercises, and was red-faced. "I didn't expect you until this afternoon." Her eyes asked a question.

"I decided, that if perhaps you wanted to mix, a good start might be to have a walk up and down the corridor while it's quiet," he said carefully. He stood right in the doorway and beckoned, in such a way that the video pickups would probably not see it. Talya's eyebrows shot up. "It's important, I think," he continued. "You need to adjust to larger spaces."

She stared at him for a second, and then said, "You're probably right. So long as I'm not out too long."

"I'll look after you," he said. Talya walked out into the corridor and blinked.

"I do come out here on occasion," she said, "when I get my hair done, for instance, and when I have to go to Sick Bay. When I go on the treadmill."

"Yes, but today's a bit different," Marlon said. "Put your arm round my waist, Talya."

"What?"

"Just do it. It'll look better on the video pickups." He wrapped his arm round her waist, and, after a hesitant pause, she put her arm round his. "Comfy? We'll walk slow so you don't get tired quickly."

"What are you on about?" she said, mystified.

Ahead of them, Marlon saw the Shepherds, one by one, wander into the Treatment Room. By the time they reached the grille separating their section from the watch station only Linda was left. She completely ignored them, and Marlon realised that there was probably a rule against leaving the watch station unoccupied. He turned, and they ambled slowly along until he gave Talya a slight push to change direction and they entered the Treatment Room. Talya was surprised to find three Shepherds there. Belle closed the door behind them.

"Come over here and face the window. That way they can't lip-read you. This room is monitored, but it's likely no-one will think to check it's record until we have this sorted out," said Elena.

Elena brought Talya up to date, and Marlon went over his trip to Sick Bay again so that they could analyse it further for any additional clues.

"The whole breast and cervical scanning thing was due in a couple of weeks," Elena said. "I can't think of a reason why it was brought forward, except to permit the Facility Medical Director to get up-to-date scans of Marlon's body. Sophia obviously smelled a rat as well. Thank the stars that she was doing the scanning! Anyway, there's a risk that someone may come and spirit Marlon away for some more drastic body modification, and given that we suspect that it's all against the rules, we have to prevent that."

She looked at the other Shepherds, and they nodded agreement.

"Firstly, if someone does come for him, I want you to refuse to hand him over. Refer them to me if you need to. Marlon, I want you to spend this afternoon in Talya's room, assuming Talya doesn't mind. That should delay them finding him long enough for us to organise a defence. But I don't want Marlon's ID anywhere near Talya's terminal, understood?"

Talya and Marlon nodded.

"We'll alert Alex and Sandy when we change over this evening. Now, there's a possibility they may come in the middle of the night, which might be difficult to handle. So, after dinner, I will get one of the evening shift to bring you along to this room for the night. You'll have to sleep in the chair, I'm afraid, and there's no toilet facilities. You can handle that?"

Marlon nodded again.

"As far as the evening and night shift is concerned, if someone asks for you, you've already been taken, and no-one knows where. We'll fetch you and take you back to your own room as soon as we get here tomorrow morning, and you should be able to have breakfast in your own room."

She took a breath, and turned to Belle. "Have you been able to get hold of that Proctor?" she asked.

Belle shook her head. "It's not possible. He works at the same time I work, and we can't call out from here. I tried yesterday evening, but of course he'd gone home. I did leave a message, but I'm afraid it wasn't much more than 'call me', and if he does that in the daytime, I'm not going to be there. I have an idea, though. I need Alex's messaging address. When I get home tonight, I'll compose a message and send it to her at her apartment. When she gets home tonight, she'll find it and she can call the Proctor tomorrow during the day before she comes in for her shift."

"We can do a certain amount of priming her at shift changeover," Elena said, "but you're going to have to spell everything out to make sure that when Alex does get through, she can put a coherent case."

Belle nodded. "I know, I'm working on it in my mind already. What else can we do?"

"Talya?"

"If you want to stop the doctor in her tracks, you have to use the appeal flag on Marlon's record and take that to the Facility Controller. This afternoon, if you can," she replied.

"Yes," said Elena, "that's what I thought. I'll see if I can do that this afternoon. It'll mean more work for the rest of you," she indicated the Shepherds, "especially with all the to-ing and fro-ing to Sick Bay. Anybody think of anything else we can do?"

There wasn't much more, and the group dispersed very slowly so as not to cause interest to anyone who might be watching. Marlon took Talya back to her room.

"Thank you, Marlon. That was interesting. I've decided you were most likely right about me. We'll have to put off any visiting until after we get over this little problem, but I'm willing to try if you'll help me. And," she added, "one forgets how comforting physical touch can be. The right kind of physical touch, that is." She sighed. "Of course, the last person who gave me the right kind of physical attention is now in a men's facility, and I don't know that I'd be that interested in seeing him again. Still, I've made a start. I'll see you after lunch."

Marlon managed barely five minutes in the lounge with the detainees from the 'far end', who of course had been allowed out of their rooms, before the chime went for lunch and he had to go back to his own room. As soon as she was able, Belle let him out afterwards and he made his way to Talya's room, where he sat on her bed and they talked.

She told him about Gregor, and also about the two partners she had had before him, and he told her about Anna, and what had happened to her. Their discussion widened to general male and female relationships, including the question about what might happen to Marlon when he was released, whenever that might be. Marlon asserted that in his head, he was still all male, and therefore was interested in women, and not at all in men. He conceded that the hormones, if maintained, might cause him to change his mind in the future, but it certainly wasn't that way at present.

"Which is just as well," said Talya. "You do realise you have an admirer on the Deck?"

Marlon looked blank. "Have I? Who would be interested in me, knowing what I am?"

"You're thinking a lesbian wouldn't be interested in you, because you have male genitals, and that a hetero woman wouldn't be interested in you, because you look like a woman?" She smiled. "There are many people who wouldn't mind what you look like, and I know one who obviously doesn't care."

Marlon saw a problem, and waved his arms. "Don't say anything! I can't afford to get involved in any relationships, especially not at the moment. I don't want to know. If there's time, you can tell me later, assuming there is a later."

Talya nodded reluctantly. She'd wanted to present Marlon with this juicy titbit, but now was obviously not the time to do it. They moved on to other subjects.

The chime went for dinner, and Marlon returned to his room to eat his meal. No sooner had the trolley with the trays disappeared into the lift than Alex came to his room. He paid a quick visit to his wash room and then followed her down to the Treatment Room, where she locked him in.

"Sorry about this," she whispered before she left, "it's going to be a boring evening for you. Good night."

Marlon settled into the treatment chair and mulled over what Talya had said. Who could it be? Talya barely knew anyone on E Deck, because of her own enforced isolation, except the Shepherds. Perhaps it was one of them? If it was, it was something that Talya had noticed which he had not. In other circumstances, he might be interested, but not at the moment, it was a distraction he could do without. Who was it? Eventually, he turned out the light and drifted into sleep, slightly chilled without his quilt to cover him.

Marlon finds out what was done to him in the facility, and why, and ponders some unexpected choices.

---

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 he awoke his bladder was full, and he had an anxious hour before Belle came and released him. When he emerged from the Treatment Room, the trusty was still pushing breakfast trays through the slots of the 'far end' rooms, but she wouldn't have realised that anything unusual was going on. Marlon made a rapid return to his room and went straight to the bathroom. Then so as not to delay matters too much, he ate his breakfast before having a shower and changing his clothes.

Elena was waiting for him when the doors were released. She came in.

"I was right, two orderlies turned up about one a.m. looking for you," she said. "The night Shepherds told them, truthfully, that you weren't in your room, so you must have been taken already, and they didn't know where you'd been taken. But I got to the Controller yesterday afternoon, quite late. Have you seen your status this morning?"

"No, I've been too busy with the normal daily routine," he replied. He logged on to his terminal. His status now read "at risk, hold, investigation pending".

"It doesn't actually say "isolation", so you're free to walk the Deck, but I suggest you stay in here till things stabilise. We'll all be keeping a lookout on your behalf. 'Hold' means keep you here, on the Deck, and 'investigation pending' or 'investigation in progress' mean that no-one can do anything to you without the express permission of the Facility Controller. I think we've stopped her."

Marlon understood that to mean the Medical Director. There was also the question of whether Alex had yet spoken to the Proctor, he wouldn't find out anything before this evening, probably.

Because he was restricted to his room, the day went slowly, but he was able to leave his door open, and he had a steady trickle of well-wishers, some of whom bestowed hugs of support. Shift changeover normally occurred during the evening meal, so he didn't see Alex brief Elena and the others on what she had been able to accomplish, but she did briefly open his door to tell him that she had managed to contact Proctor Julian, and that he had initially expressed disbelief in her tale before promising to investigate it.

The following day turned out to be a complete anticlimax, since almost nothing happened. Elena explained that once something had been put into motion, the wheels of bureaucracy turned very slowly, and that they all had to be patient.

Marlon was allowed out, and in the afternoon took Martha to visit Talya. She received them with great trepidation, but within a few minutes had calmed down, discovering that despite the great differences in their backgrounds they could hold a good solid conversation. Marlon judged the visit to be a success. Martha was probably the toughest customer on E Deck, and if Talya could warm to Martha, she could - probably - get along with any of them. Of course, Marlon's presence helped enormously, but he accepted that.

The next morning, just after breakfast, two orderlies appeared, insisting that they had to take Marlon down to Sick Bay, as his scans needed to be redone. Elena refused to hand him over, pointing to his revised status, and sent them away empty-handed. After the two had left she contacted the Controller again.

Much to everyone's surprise, Sophia arrived mid-morning. Elena was suspicious, but Sophia said that she was just doing her normal rounds, disrupted because of the changes to the scanner schedule. Elena refused to let her visit Marlon on his own, so Belle stood in the room while Sophia checked him over.

"I now know far too much about regression therapy," she said when she had finished. "I'll give you both the gist of it. We'll have to start with Gender Reassignment, though, since that's what everyone thought had already happened in your case."

Marlon and Belle nodded.

"When someone wants to change gender, and the State agrees, for whatever reason, these days it's all done with various drugs. In previous times they used to do surgery to remodel the subject's body, but that's not done now except in rare cases. The subject is put on a course of several drugs and also onto hormones to help things along. Now, one of the drugs acts on the DNA in the body's cells, and flips the switch which makes us male or female in the first place. The other drugs encourage the body to very gradually re-adjust it's shape to correspond with what the switch now demands, that is, it changes gender.

"It's not a total change, unless the subject is a teenager or younger, since it can't change bone structure that much. So if you had massive shoulders as a man, you're going to have massive shoulders as a woman, and so on. With me so far?"

"Yes, Sophia. But I was never gender swapped, so how does this affect me?" Marlon asked.

"I was coming to that, but first I want to add that the changeover process can't cope with testicles and ovaries that well, so there's a very good chance that the new body will be sterile. Right. In order to reverse a gender re-assignment, they use regression therapy. What that does is use other drugs to reset the body's DNA to what it should be, and make the body gradually return to it's original state. It was developed to treat the very small number of people who undergo gender re-assignment and then discover they have made a mistake and can't cope with it."

"Oh! I see," said Marlon. "So, because my DNA hadn't been previously flipped, nothing happened. But why did I grow breasts, then? And why has my body shape changed?"

"Because they also supplement with hormones, in your case female hormones, to help the process along. And those hormones are what's changed you, not the regression therapy drugs."

Marlon nodded in understanding. "That's why I've still got a penis and testicles, then." He looked up at Sophia. "Am I likely to be sterile, with all these hormones in my system?"

She shook her head. "I've absolutely no idea," she said. She smiled. "I suspect there's only one way you're going to find out."

"How are these drugs administered, then?" asked Belle.

"In the food," came the reply.

"Ah," Belle said, "that explains quite a lot. I've always wondered why we had such a strange feeding system up here. Each tray is tailored to each detainee, of course."

"Yes, we put all kinds of things in the food, as required. Anti-depressants, mostly, but also anti-psychotics, sedatives, even antibiotics on occasion."

"What happens if the detainee doesn't eat their food?" asked Marlon. "Could someone survive long enough to, say, clear themselves of the effects of some drug?"

Belle grinned. "Nope. Detainees must eat a certain amount of each meal. If they fail to, they get taken to Sick Bay, strapped down and drip fed. You only want to go through that experience once in this place."

"And everyone's shut up while they eat, so they can't swap food or save it, and accidentally end up taking each other's medicines," he mused. "Interesting system." He turned to Sophia. "Many thanks for finding that out for us. And thank you for giving me the hint the other day."

Sophia shrugged. "I'd already talked with Elena," she said, "my course of action was fairly clear."

"Do you know what's happening?" he asked.

"Not really. The Director's furious, I've just been keeping out of her way. I've been keeping my ears open, though. If there's anything to pass on, I'll pass it on, don't worry."

"She made another attempt to spirit Marlon away this morning," Belle said.

Sophia's eyes narrowed. "Did she, now? I'll have to be extra alert today, then."

"I'm sorry Elena didn't want you to be on your own with Marlon," Belle said to Sophia, "I know you tipped us off yesterday, but I think she's a bit paranoid about Marlon's safety at the moment."

"Paranoia, huh? I guess it's well justified in this case. Okay, I think I've done about all I can here. I am actually on my rounds, so I'll leave you now and go and find my next patient."

Lunch came, and after it was over Elena was summoned away for a meeting. The rest of the Shepherds were so nervous they decided to lock Marlon away with Talya, to try and delay any further attempt to remove him. Mid afternoon, and Belle came and told him that he had been summoned to appear before the Controller. When he reached the watch station, Elena was there, and the three of them set off for the administration suite. They were shown into the same room where Marlon had been taken on his first day. The table had been moved to one end of the meeting room, and behind it sat Controller Brand, with a member of her staff on each side.

"Release him please, Shepherd," she said to Belle. To Marlon, she added, "Be at ease, citizen. You have no reason to fear anything that might happen here today."

He sat down between the Shepherds on a row of seats against the wall, his spirits suddenly rising. After a wait of a minute or so, the door opened, and the woman who had tried to do a cervical smear on him, accompanied by Sophia, entered the room. She was not happy.

"Controller! Can't this wait, I'm very busy at the moment with the screening program -"

She turned as she spoke, and the moment she saw Marlon in the room her mouth closed with a sharp click.

"Service, Controller?" the woman said, after a pause to collect herself.

Marlon could see by her expression that she was uncertain of what she faced.

"Sit down, please, Director. I've asked you here because I have received complaints about your treatment of the citizen you see here," the Controller said.

"Oh?" said the woman. "I think I've tried to do my best for all of the detainees, including this one present," she said defensively. "What is it that I'm supposed to have done?"

"There's no supposed about it," replied the Controller. "You've administered treatment, without overriding authority, to a detainee in appeal status."

"An administrative oversight, I assure you, Controller. I'm quite prepared to accept responsibility for my mistake."

"If it was just a mistake in prescribing drugs, or a mistake in the usual types of treatment you offer, then I'd consider just giving you an administrative slap on the wrist, so to speak. But what you've done to this citizen is of such a nature that I am considering pressing charges against you for Permanent Bodily Disfigurement. I'm certainly suspending you from your post with immediate effect."

"Controller? Disfigurement? But the citizen looks perfectly normal to me," the Medical Director protested. "I don't understand what I'm supposed to have done."

"Yes, she does look perfectly normal - for a woman. But the citizen was entirely and completely male when he arrived at the facility. I know, because I interviewed him on the day of his arrival, as a mistake seemed to have been made. That's why his file had appeal status, since the circumstances seemed so unlikely that they merited further investigation."

"But his file said he was actually a woman who had reassigned to a man, and that part of the sentence was regression therapy," came the reply, indicating that the Director was fully aware of the circumstances. "Since she started out as a woman, it seemed appropriate to start the treatment to return her to that state as soon as possible, especially as I knew it would take some time. It would have been done, anyway, Controller, surely it didn't matter that I started the treatment a little early?"

The Controller didn't reply, but pressed a button on the communicator on the table. A door opened, and into the room walked Proctor Julian, accompanied not just by his two Enforcers, but by two female Enforcers as well. The Proctor and his men were the first males Marlon had seen since he had been delivered to the facility, and he found the sight strange. Julian walked up to the Medical Director.

"There's a good reason why it mattered that you started the treatment early, citizen," he explained. "That's because it is almost certain that Citizen Hillier is actually male. He was sent to this place entirely in error, and if you hadn't interfered he would have been released in the same physical state as he arrived here. Thanks to you, that is now no longer possible."

He turned to the Controller. "With your permission, Controller?"

She nodded, and Julian said to the director, "Medical Director Pannal, I am arresting you for the wilful and unauthorized Permanent Bodily Disfigurement of a citizen. I have on record your confession to this crime. Enforcers?"

The two female Enforcers moved to either side of the medical director. Sophia got the message, and moved quickly out of the way. One of the Enforcers said, "Hands in front, citizen," and when the shocked woman didn't respond they grabbed her arms and forcibly held her while the cuffs were applied.

Julian spoke again. "Remain seated, citizen, there's more we have to discuss. But first -"

He turned towards Marlon and approached him.

"Citizen, is that really you? I know I only saw you for about an hour that day six months ago, but I have a good memory for faces, and the face I see before me is not the same at all."

"Proctor Julian," Marlon replied, tears brimming in his eyes, "it is me, the same person you met that day. I am Marlon Allen Hillier, although I no longer look like I once did. I recognise one of your Enforcers, too, although the other I've not seen before."

Julian nodded. "Your memory is good, citizen, and the fact that you remember one of the Enforcers and not the other is confirmation - for me - that you are who you say you are. I must explain what happened that day we met," he continued. "Before I could make much progress with your case I was called away to a, let's call it a major incident." His eyes showed pain. "Many Proctors and Enforcers were called, and things did not go well to start with. I was shot, and Enforcer Brennan was killed."

Marlon said, "I'm sorry to hear of your loss," and wondered at saying it, because he'd meant it. He knew that six months ago, his attitude to the death of an Enforcer would have been completely different, but Enforcers were people too, with partners and dependants who relied on them.

"Thank you, citizen. To continue, my injuries took some time to heal, and when I got back to work your case file had been closed, as had many others dealt with in my absence. I assumed that the correct person had been arrested and convicted. I was amazed when one of your Shepherds contacted me to tell me your story. I followed the trail, and contacted the Controller to discover more. By that time Citizen Caparelli here -" he indicated Sophia, "- had already made her other concerns known to the Controller, so I co-ordinated those investigations as well." He turned back to the Controller.

"Citizen? You wish to continue?"

"Certainly, Proctor Julian. After receiving the complaint from Citizen Caparelli, I began to wonder why a Medical Director who had done such good work from the day she had arrived here had suddenly taken it into her head to make such a flagrant breach of regulations. I decided to go through her file, and what I discovered wasn't pretty. It seems that the reason that Citizen Pannal was given the position here was because she has a pathological hatred of men, caused apparently by incidents in her childhood. It was thought that if she worked in an environment composed entirely of women, then she would have neither the desire nor the opportunity to be in contact with males, and this was true right up until the point that Citizen Hillier arrived."

The Controller looked at Marlon, and he could sense her sadness that one of her staff had betrayed her trust.

"What made things worse for him," the Controller continued, "was that Citizen Pannal thought that the judgement had been correct, and that Citizen Hillier had been a woman who had transitioned to a man. In her eyes, I'm guessing, that person had betrayed the female gender by becoming it's bitterest enemy, and she sought to correct the matter and punish him - or her - at the same time by beginning the reversal as soon as possible. Am I right, Pannal?"

"Yes," replied Pannal truculently, "that's exactly what I thought, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway. He was a man, he got what was coming to him."

The Controller nodded sadly, then continued, "Then we come to the second complaint, and that caused me greater concern, since you attempted to subvert the entire containment system to further your irrational behaviour. You attempted to remove Citizen Hillier at night, to take him to another place where surgery would have been performed upon him. Only the prompt action of the Deck staff prevented this from happening." The Controller bestowed an approving look upon Elena, who bowed an acknowledgement. "Proctor Julian?"

He continued the story. "My investigations discovered an order to transfer the citizen to Surgical Facility Fourteen, where it's likely that his male genitals would have been removed. I say this because that kind of reconstructive surgery is a speciality of that particular Facility. I'm not completely certain, because I haven't been able to go that deeply into the Surgical Facility's files as yet. I'm almost certain, though, that the whole transaction was illegal. Citizen Pannal," Julian turned to the former Medical Director, "I arrest you for conspiring with others with intent to perform an act or acts of Permanent Bodily Disfigurement on a citizen. I also arrest you for conspiring with others to transfer a detainee from a Containment Facility contrary to the detention regulations. There may be other charges to come once my investigations are completed."

Pannal dropped her head.

"Then we have the second attempt to remove Citizen Hillier from the Deck this morning," he continued, "What were you going to do, Citizen Pannal? Dispose of the evidence? Kill him? Dump him in one of the slums without ID, and let him try to explain himself somehow, in his present condition?"

Pannal kept her head lowered, but just shook it from side to side. It had been her last throw of the dice, and she was utterly broken.

"I guess there's another charge to be made there, but I'll have to discuss it with Controller Brand first. Take her away. Load her into the back of our wagon," he directed to the two female Enforcers.

The two Enforcers pulled Pannal up and more or less carried her out of the room. Julian turned to the Controller.

"With your permission, Controller?" She nodded. Julian smiled and turned to Marlon. "My next task is slightly more pleasant," he said. "Slightly, because we have a procedure to go through, and it may take some time before you can be legally freed, possibly a week or more. I regret this, but that's the regulations. I assure you that you are likely to be very handsomely compensated for what's happened to you, once your innocence is completely proven."

"I don't object to any delay, Proctor," replied Marlon, "in fact, I have some unfinished business to sort out before I leave."

Both the Proctor and the Controller looked astonished.

Julian, not knowing Marlon, asked him, "What do you mean, citizen? Are you telling us that you have scores to settle?"

He was even more astonished when Elena, Belle and Sophia all burst out laughing.

"No, quite the opposite," said Elena, trying to straighten her face. "Marlon's been a huge asset to the Deck. In fact," she said thoughtfully, and turned to the Controller, "I may have a proposition to put to you, Controller. If you'll give me a day or two to discuss it with my colleagues and figure out what we need to do."

The Controller asked her sternly, "Has anything improper been happening on your Deck as the result of the presence of this citizen?"

"Oh, no, Controller. Nothing at all improper. Quite the reverse, actually. As I say, I need to think this one out and make a report. With your permission?"

"Very well. Proctor Julian? You were saying?"

"Oh, yes. We've made some progress with the original case. Specifically, the female whose face I showed you has been seen pulling cash from a machine in an identical fraud, at a time when you had been in here for some weeks. So you're definitely exonerated. Since you were legally convicted, your case will have to go back to court to have you legally declared innocent. That will take a week, as I mentioned before. There's also a question of how your original trial Justiciar behaved, and, well, there's more I have to look at yet. Suffice it to say that this could take time. It is often said that the State does not make mistakes, and in practically all cases the procedures we have make sure that it doesn't. Regrettably, in your case, it seems the State's servants made the mistakes, and each one compounded with the next to leave you in your present condition. I cannot tell you how sorry I am that it ended up this way for you."

"Thank you for restoring my faith in the system," said Marlon, "even though it's taken so long."

"Thank you, citizen, for your understanding. You have every right to be angry with me," Julian replied. "I'll call in again next week to keep you all up to date with the status of the investigations. With your permission, of course, Controller?"

"As you wish, Proctor."

With that, the meeting broke up. Marlon and his Shepherds stood, and Marlon held out his hands.

"Oh, no, Marlon, we don't have to do that any more," Belle said.

"But I insist," he said, "I'm not officially cleared, as yet, so I'm still technically a detainee. There are times to break the rules, like we did the other night, but this is not one of them. Let's not get into bad habits, citizens."

So, cuffed, Marlon and his escort returned to E Deck. Immediately, and strictly contrary to regulations, Elena called a meeting of all the available detainees and they gathered around the watch station while Marlon and the Shepherds brought them all up to date with developments. The hour or so until the dinner chime was almost a party atmosphere, with more excited conversation and hugs and kisses than Marlon could ever remember experiencing. He retired for the night in a daze, with the realisation that his life had changed for ever - again - and that he had a new future to try and make sense of.

After breakfast the next morning, he opened his door when it was released, in case someone wanted to visit, but went and sat on his bed and began to think. During the night it had dawned upon him that the problems he would face when he left the facility would be much greater than those he faced when he had arrived. For the past six months and more his entire world had been this room, and the rest of E Deck, with the occasional visit to anonymous rooms elsewhere within the complex, all under strict supervision. Soon he would have to consider building a life in the wide open world beyond the facility, and learn to make his own decisions again. And he would have to decide who and what he wanted to be, before he could progress much further with any plans.

Belle appeared, carrying a brush, and he repositioned himself on the bed so that she could do his hair.

"So, citizen, how are you this morning?" she asked.

"Physically fine, I think," he replied, "but mentally and emotionally somewhat in turmoil after yesterday's excitement. I suddenly have to think about life outside these walls. And it's not going to be anything like the life I had before. I've got used to being in here." He gestured around them with his hands.

"Ah, yes. The term you need is 'institutionalised'. It's a common problem with detainees who have been here for long periods. I'm surprised that you think you have it, though. You've not really been in here that long."

"My problem, I think, is that I can't go back to my old life. I don't even know if I can go back to being a man. If I decide to stay as a female, I will have to learn a whole different set of customs and practices I've no idea about. Without knowing what my options are, I can't make decisions, or do any preparation."

"The facilities are aware of the general problems detainees face upon release," she told him, "although your particular circumstances are obviously somewhat unusual. Next to each facility there are several apartment blocks which released citizens are initially allocated to. Citizens are usually placed into one of several transit apartments in these on release, until they can make arrangements to return to whatever home awaits them. Other apartments are available longer-term for citizens who find it harder to fit back in. They provide a sort of sheltered accommodation from which citizens can develop the skills to integrate back into society. I would think that such a place would be ideal for someone like yourself. The blocks also house tutors, instructors and counsellors, so help is on the doorstep if anyone needs it. As it happens, since it's so close to the facility, some of the Shepherds and other facility staff live in those blocks too."

"I didn't know that," he said, "but then I'd never had any previous contact with the justice system."

"No, I don't suppose you had, and now you've had far too much," she said, putting her arm round his shoulder. "You needn't worry, we're all going to look after you. If you want to stay as female, we're all quite willing to help you learn the ropes. If you don't, well, we'll still help you wherever we can." She resumed brushing his hair. "Personally, I think you'll do quite well just as you are, although I don't know if that's possible. You're an odd mixture at the moment, half and half. Perhaps Sophia can help us there. Oh! I don't think you know. Sophia's been appointed Acting Facility Medical Director until they decide what to do, with a strong hint she'll get the job permanently."

"That's good news, I'm happy for her. It sounded from what I heard that the previous Director was not that easy to get along with."

"We didn't have much to do with her, thank goodness. I think it's only men she didn't like, though, I don't remember her giving us many other problems since she'd been here. The drawback is that we will probably see less of Sophia. That's not going to worry you, though, you'll be out of here soon."

"Yes, true." He thought. "I'm going to lose all the friends I made here, aren't I?"

"Possibly. You can make visits to the facility, you know, although at one a day it would take you a month to see everyone," Belle said. "I hope you do keep in contact with us though," and she meant the Shepherds, "we all value the contribution you've made here. And your friendship." She held out a hand to help him off the bed. He stood and brushed the wrinkles out of the skirt of his dress.

He became aware that she was still holding his hand, and remembered what Talya had said.

"Belle," he asked, "I have to ask you whether your attention to me is purely professional."

She dropped his hand as though it had burnt her, her eyes dropped, and her cheeks reddened slightly.

"Do I have to answer that?" she said in a small voice.

"Not really, no," he said, "I've already got my answer. Your secret is safe with me. If it's of any interest, I hadn't noticed, but Talya did. Your face presumably showed something when you thought I couldn't see it."

He held out his hand, and when she tentatively put hers in his, he gently squeezed it. He held up a finger of his other hand.

"Small beginnings, we know next to nothing about one another, and my life is going through complete turmoil just now. This is unlooked for, but not unwelcome. It's also against regulations, of course, although I presume that changes once I get freed," he added.

"I can't wait," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

"You're going to have to wait," he said. "And when the waiting's over, I don't know if I'll be able to perform. Heck, I'm not even sure what shape I'll have after I leave." He held up his finger again. "One week. That's all. Then we can talk about it like ordinary citizens. Till then, we keep it calm and professional. Okay?"

"Yes, citizen," Belle replied reluctantly. "As you wish."

"So," he said, changing the subject, "I wonder if I can contact Sophia any more? There's a question I must ask her I need to have answered before I can do much more."

"You can only try," Belle said, indicating the seat in front of the personal terminal.

Marlon sat down and thumbed it on, making a connection to Sick Bay. A Shepherd he didn't know answered.

"Service, citizen?"

"I have a question to ask Sophia, if she's available," he said. "She's been dealing with my... circumstances, so I'd rather speak directly to her if I am permitted."

The woman looked at her display, which showed her who she was talking to. She nodded.

"Certainly, citizen, she has instructions to allow you to contact her at any time, providing, of course, that she's able to take the call. She can at the moment, so I'll connect you."

"Thank you, Shepherd." The display flickered, and Sophia looked at him.

"Service, Marlon. I've been expecting your call."

"Would it be in order for me to congratulate you on your promotion?"

She grimaced. "I'm not sure about that," she said, "Citizen Pannal left somewhat of a mess behind her. No wonder she always looked harassed. What can I do for you?"

"I've been thinking that I must consider my future outside the facility. It occurred to me that before I can do that, I should understand what physical options I might have," he explained. "For example, do I have to continue towards becoming female, can I return to being male, or is it possible to remain in another state, such as where I am at the moment? Can you advise me, please?"

"Of course. As we discovered yesterday, you're part way through a failed regression process at the moment." She frowned. "There are also some complex legal considerations here, whatever you decide. I might be able to advise you about those, I'm not sure. I will, however, call you or see you later today, and by then I'll have a list of possible physical futures for you. Will that be soon enough for you?"

"Yes, fine, Sophia. Thank you for your time and attention. I'd better let you get back to some real work now." Sophia grimaced again and terminated the call.

"Now, I must visit Talya," he said. "She might have knowledge about the release procedure that will come in useful. Belle, we're probably going to be on the terminal all morning, so if you want to go back to the watch station, that's fine with me."

"If you say so," she said. "I'll drop by when Sophia gets in touch, if you've no objections." Belle left, and Marlon walked out of his room shortly afterwards.

Talya welcomed him in, and he explained what he thought he wanted to know. They sat down side by side and Talya activated her terminal.

"Citizen! Have you seen your status this morning?" Talya pointed to the display, where it clearly said, 'at risk, trusted, pending release'. "That 'pending release' is useful, it should allow us to get at exactly the information you require."

They spent the better part of the morning assimilating the various rules and regulations, and it occurred to Talya to also look at the section labelled 'Compensation'. That led them down other avenues, most of which were interesting, but of course there wasn't anything to be found covering a case which had similar circumstances to Marlon's.

When they had more or less exhausted the knowledge banks, and themselves as well, they stopped for a breather. The lunch chime would be sounded soon.

"I didn't see you in the crowd yesterday, when we got back from the Controller's office," Marlon remarked. "Did you decide it would be too much for you?"

"I couldn't do it," replied Talya, shamefaced, "I thought seriously about coming, but there were just too many people, and it's a bit too soon. It's a shame you're going, I was beginning to believe that I could get out of this hole I've dug myself into. I don't know if I can continue on my own."

"That's just the point, Talya!" Marlon said, "You're not on your own. We, and by that I mean all the detainees and all the Shepherds on E Deck, want to help you. There's plenty of good will out there for you, and every one of us knows that you face an uphill struggle. The fact that you now know what your problem is, and you're willing to do something about it, is a huge step forward. Now you've met Martha, for instance, what do you think of her?"

"I was a little surprised," Talya admitted, "we got along much better than I ever thought we possibly could. It just goes to show, one can't judge by appearances. Martha and I come from such different backgrounds we're almost different species, but we still clicked somehow. I must say, I'm actually looking forward to the next visit, even if part of me is not sure about what might happen."

"I can probably fit in two or three, maybe four more introductions before I go. Will that be too much for you, do you think?"

"Possibly. I can only try. Did you know that Martha visited yesterday afternoon on her own?"

"Did she? And you were okay with that? I'm impressed," he said.

Any further conversation was cut off by the lunch chime, and Marlon had to go.

After lunch, he returned with Deyna, a tall, slender dark-skinned petty thief who was on E Deck because of a risk of harming herself. Her problems were mostly the result of an appalling lack of self confidence, but she wasn't considered so at risk that she had to be kept isolated, so Marlon decided to try to present Talya with someone who was a complete contrast to Martha. The talk was stilted and defensive at first, from both sides, but Marlon acted as the lubricant to keep things from completely stalling. The three had finally got a reasonable level of conversation going when there was a knock on the door, and when Marlon opened it, Sophia, Belle and Martha stood outside.

"Service, citizens," he said, and then to Sophia, "You have answers for me, Director?"

Sophia made a face at the title, but nodded.

Martha said, "I've come to take Deyna off your hands, Marlon. Belle suggested that Talya might be interested in what Sophia has to say, and it's going to be crowded in there. With your permission, Shepherd?"

When Belle and Sophia crowded into the room along with Talya and Marlon, Belle said, "Perhaps we should have borrowed one of the lounges for this meeting. I'm sure having this many people in one room must break a regulation somewhere. Director, the floor, such as it is, is yours."

"When Marlon called this morning, he more or less outlined the physical options he has," she began. "He could either go back to being a man, go forward to become a proper woman, or stay in some intermediate state, such as the one he's currently in. I've reviewed the medical and legal texts for what's possible, and as I read them, he can do one of the following.

"Firstly, he could return to being a man. This might be difficult, given his current state, and would probably require surgery. We can't use gender reassignment therapy, because genetically, he's already a man, and we can't use regression therapy either, because genetically, he's already a man. Male hormone therapy might reduce some of the extra female mass he's put on, and return his profile to something resembling a male's, but there are serious undesirable side effects. He would probably become sterile, if he isn't already. Hormone therapy won't get rid of his breasts, either, he'd have to have them surgically removed. He'd be left with a flat chest, but his nipples would be the ones he has now."

"Doesn't sound too appealing," Marlon remarked.

"No, I was disappointed when I worked through the details," Sophia agreed. "Alternatively, if you wished to reassign to fully female, we can use the gender reassignment therapy on you, the male-to-female sort, of course. Looking at your medical record, that might not entirely work, given what Citizen Pannal has pumped into you so far. So, if you wanted to pursue that possibility, there's a fair chance that you'd have to have the surgery Citizen Pannal was trying to impose on you anyway."

Talya had realised that four people in her cell was the largest crowd she had encountered since her trial, but she made the effort to ask, "Does he have to make a choice now, or soon?"

Sophia shook her head. "No, none of these choices need be made now, or even in the near future. That's because it's perfectly reasonable, curiously enough, for Marlon to continue exactly as he is. The State makes provision for persons who are either born with ambiguous genitals or who have a mixture for other reasons, like Marlon's, for example as the result of an accident or an exposure to DNA-altering drugs. If he does decide to stay as he is, he'll probably require low doses of female hormones for the rest of his life to maintain his profile."

Marlon nodded, and then asked, "How does that work legally, Sophia? Am I man, or woman, or what?"

"Complex subject," she replied. "Talya can probably tell you more. The State recognises gender on many different levels. The most basic is genetic, that is, it's a description of the gender-deciding part of the DNA such as XX or XY, and is assumed to correspond to what the newborn looks like. Only if the child is deformed, or shows other symptoms, is the DNA status actually checked and updated.

"The next level is physical. Normally one is only Male or Female, but there are certain people who are classed as Hermaphrodite, that is they have both sets of genitals. There are other categories including one which fits Marlon, which is Shemale. I know it sounds odd, but it specifically describes someone like him who has breasts and male genitals.

"The third level is social. Whatever equipment you may have physically, the State recognises that certain individuals feel the need to appear as the opposite gender to that they would normally be. So you can be socially Male or Female, independent of your physical makeup. You can also be socially Homosexual, Bisexual, Lesbian or Transvestite as additional options.

"The final level is legal. Notwithstanding any of what I have just said, you can opt to be legally Male or Female, whichever matches your chosen gender arrangement. The State might object, for example, if you are a fully heterosexual male who chooses to be legally female, or vice versa, but I understand most of the other combinations are permitted."

"And to think I thought you had to be just a man or a woman," commented Talya. "I'm glad, for once, that these are matters that don't concern me! A question, though, Sophia. What's the cost to Marlon of any of this? Do you know?"

"There's no cost to Marlon," was the surprise reply. "Because this situation was entirely the State's fault, the State will cover the cost of whatever treatment Marlon will need, whatever that might be, and for as long as he needs it, that is to say, for life. If he decides to change his status at any time in the future, the State will pay whatever costs are needed then, and so on."

"Whew!" said Marlon, "That was one thing I was worried about, the possible cost. Uh, thanks, Sophia, for all that information. I now have to go away and think about it all. Talya, any other thoughts?"

"I want to think about it all, as well, if you don't mind. We've time to discuss it in the next few days," she replied.

Belle walked Marlon back to his room.

"You think I ought to stay like this, don't you?" he asked her.

"I do," she replied. "Personal interest aside," she added, "it doesn't force you to make any choices yet. If you feel differently in the future, you can make a choice then. The only suggestion I have to offer is that you ought to sample the female way of life once you get outside. If you make a decision before you're released, you might regret it in years to come."

"That's another problem," he said, "what do I do when I get outside? I've really no idea what I'm fit for."

"That's not true," she contradicted, "why not carry on with what you started in here? I think you'll make a very good counsellor or therapist. At least continue looking at the available courses."

"You're right," he agreed, "but first I have to sort through what I've been told the last couple of days. I'm tired, Belle. I need to think and I'm not sure I can do that clearly at the moment."

She smiled at him. "That's what friends are for. Here, I'll leave you now, we're soon coming up to dinner. Have a quiet evening, Marlon."

Marlon receives an interesting proposition and makes some life-changing decisions, and the legal process finally grinds to completion.

---

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.

Marlon did have a quiet evening, but he didn't sleep well with everything he had been told churning around in his head. The following day wasn't much better, with, it seemed, every single available person wanting to call and offer advice. Elena stopped by mid-afternoon to tell him that she had set up a meeting the following afternoon, and not to put any plans into stone just yet. Mystified, he took that as a sign that he could forget the outstanding problems for a while, and had a much more relaxed evening and night.

After lunch the following day he took Jill to see Talya, and they spent some time adjusting to one another before Elena called him away. She took him to the Controller's meeting room, where both the Controller and Sophia was waiting.

"Before Elena and Sophia start this meeting properly," the Controller said, "I need to tell you all that the trial of Citizen Pannal will take place starting tomorrow morning, and we'll all be present, us three as witnesses, and Marlon as victim as well as witness. So after we've finished, Elena, can you take Marlon down to Stores to get fitted for a release suit. Stores may bitch about it, but if he's going to get a suit in two or three day's time I don't see the point in delaying for the sake of regulations. Now, Elena, I gather this is your idea?"

"Yes, Controller. Marlon, I had an idea a few days ago about what you might do once you're released. An idea that plays to the strengths we've seen you display since you've been on E Deck. I want you to stay with us."

"I beg your pardon, Shepherd?" Marlon was surprised by her request. "What do you mean?"

"I wondered if you might consider staying in the facility, but as a member of staff. It's been quite clear, watching you operate, that you have a way of dealing with people few of the Shepherds have any chance of matching. With respect, Sophia," Elena switched to the Medical Director, "this is perhaps something that the medical staff should be providing, but obviously aren't except perhaps in your own person."

"What did you have in mind?" asked Sophia.

"I want him to be a sort of counsellor, free to go to any part of the facility and talk to anyone, the way he's been doing on E Deck. I've been reading some ancient history books. Long ago, there used to be 'lay' persons, I'm not quite sure what that means, but I think it implies that the persons weren't strictly part of the organisation structure. These persons would provide what's called 'pastoral care'. That is, they'd just go around and talk to the detainees and offer sympathy and support, and where necessary, advice and counselling. What do you think, Marlon?"

"I'm interested," Marlon admitted. "I would have to have some training, but I don't see any big problem. It would also mean that I have a secure base of friends to lean on while I build a new life outside for myself. Controller?"

"It's an interesting idea," she said. "I think Elena's identified a gap in the facility system. She has already mentioned your good work on E Deck. Now, E Deck itself is quite a rarefied place compared to the rest of the facility. How do you think you'd be able to cope with the different conditions elsewhere here?"

"Honestly, Controller, I don't know, seeing as I've never visited anywhere else. But it would be worth trying, at the very least."

"Sophia?"

"I approve, Controller, if we can find a way for it to work. It will probably mean that the regulations need to be adjusted, but we've already said that the current regulations don't provide the proper care. Elena, had you thought how this would work?"

"I think he'd probably have to be a member of your staff," she said, "we can work out a uniform and so on another time."

"I don't want to be a Shepherd," Marlon said, "I don't think many of the detainees will want to talk to a Shepherd, they see them as the enemy. It only worked on E Deck because I was one of them."

"That could be awkward," Sophia said. "I don't think the system would take too kindly to random citizens wandering around the facility. But I agree, if you were a Shepherd, it would automatically throw up a barrier with some of them."

"Right, I approve of your idea, Elena, I think this is what we'll try," said the Controller, coming to a decision. "See if you can find fault with this plan. We'll make it an experimental post, till we find out whether he can work all the Decks, not just E Deck. Marlon will report directly to the Medical Director, and we'll give him a provisional title of 'Facility Counsellor'. He'll have an 'all areas' disc the same as Sophia has, but we'll give him a 'trusty' uniform so that he's not obviously a Shepherd. Instead of red cuffs, we'll give him white ones, so Shepherds and detainees know who he is and what he's permitted to do. Sophia?"

She nodded. "I can't see anything immediately wrong with that, Controller. Can I come back to you if I think of something?"

"Of course. We've several days before Marlon is officially released. Elena?"

"That's almost exactly the way I'd thought of doing it, Controller."

"Marlon?"

"I'm overwhelmed by the kindness you've all shown me, citizens. It sounds like a good plan. I'll try to justify Elena's faith in me. Unless anything unusual happens in the next few days, I think I will accept your offer. Assuming I do so, I think you've just crystallised some of my other options. Sophia," he turned to her, "if I am to do this I will have to be a female, at least apparently so, to work in here. So I choose to stay in my present physical state. In addition," he turned to the Controller, "I will have to have a female name, so on the day I'm set free, I think I will walk out of here as Marlon Hillier, a man, and return as Marion Hillier, a woman. I'll change my status to female socially, but because I might still be able to reproduce, I'll stay legally male so any children I have can have a legal father. Will that be acceptable?"

"More than acceptable, citizen. Now, I don't want to prejudge what you might be able to do, but you do realise that if you're successful, we'll probably have to expand the operation and recruit more staff. This is a fair-sized facility, after all, you can't expect to handle it all by yourself. So, no pressure or anything, but you could find yourself running a small department in a year's time."

"No pressure! Controller, I'm lost for words. I'd prefer just to take it one step at a time, but I'll certainly bear your thoughts in mind as I do."

"Good. I think, then, Elena, you'd better take Marlon down to Stores now. I know Sophia has a whole load of work she ought to be getting on with. Thank you, Elena, for this idea, and thank you all for coming."

The woman in the Stores was one Marlon hadn't seen before, and she complained at issuing a release suit to someone who wasn't actually going out the door, but when Elena explained that Marlon had been exonerated and was merely awaiting the Appeal Court's judgement, she relented.

Marlon got a business style suit comprising a dark grey jacket with a short straight skirt and a fitted white shirt, two pairs of tights, and a pair of plain black slip-on shoes. He tried on the suit to make sure everything fit, looked at the result in the mirror and saw an 'ordinary' woman, which was fine with him. He reluctantly changed back into his green E Deck dress and handed the suit back, to be folded ready for him to wear in the morning.

As they were returning to E Deck, Elena said, "The suit is good enough for you to wear tomorrow and when you're released, but I'd get some better outfits as soon as you can. Those release outfits are a standardised item and everyone recognises them on the street, so they'll know exactly where you came from. You really don't need that kind of aggravation at the moment. I'm sure Belle will help you build a wardrobe."

"Belle?"

Elena looked at Marlon as the lift came to a stop and smiled. "We're not blind, you know. And Belle correctly informed me once she realised what was happening. If she hadn't, she'd have seriously stretched some of the regulations. Don't worry, I approve. And the regulations do permit work colleagues to form attachments, so you should have little problem in the future, if that's what you want to do."

"It's a little early, Elena," he said, "but let's just say I'm not discouraging her. At all."

"Good choice. Although I have to say, if you'd declared your availability, a queue would probably have formed on E Deck." She smiled again as they went through the gates and she released him.

Marlon sighed. "I obviously need to work on that part of my skills," he said, "I hadn't noticed anything at all. Thank you for finding me a job, Elena."

"My pleasure. It was fairly obvious, if you think about it," she said as she left him.

The next morning, after breakfast, he went down to Stores and changed into his suit. It was the first time he had ever worn the tights and shoes, and since he had spent the last six months wearing what were little more than slippers, his legs and feet felt funny. Since he was wearing a skirt for the first time ever, the feel of the waistband was odd to someone who'd spent six months in a dress. The ensemble made him walk differently. He was glad that Stores hadn't produced shoes with heels for him, even though he knew he would have that hurdle to face in the future. He practised walking about for a few minutes in the Stores area, and then was collected by two waiting female Enforcers.

After having his hands locked behind him, he was shut into the back of their van and driven away. The length of the journey suggested he was being taken back to the same court complex he had been in before, but there was no way of telling. After much waiting around, he was shown into a courtroom, and asked to relate his circumstances. Citizen Pannal sat in the dock on the other side of the room, looking shrunken and frail between two huge female Enforcers.

Much of his story sounded incredible to anyone who hadn't seen the male Marlon, but Proctor Julian, Elena and Sophia were all in the courtroom as well, so there was plenty of corroborating evidence. Because of the nature of the case, the session was adjourned for half an hour while Marlon went into a side room with the two female and one male Judiciars and stripped to show them his body. Video clips had demonstrated that he had been a normal male on arrival at Female Facility Five. The collection of evidence was pretty conclusive, and Citizen Pannal was found guilty on all counts, to be detained for medical reports before sentencing.

Before returning to the facility, Proctor Julian managed to talk to them, and Marlon found out that his own hearing in the Appeal Court was the day after next. Julian was impressed when the Controller described to him what they had decided to do for Marlon's future. Marlon endured the ride back to the facility in a much better frame of mind than when he had left that morning.

He spent most of the next day closeted with Talya, bringing her up to date with the last two days' events and discussing the future in light of his job offer. Needless to say, word had already got round and there were frequent interruptions from well-wishers. Marlon was glad when the dinner chime went and he prepared himself for the last night he would spend on E Deck.

He was totally unprepared when the doors were released the following morning, and he went out to find the whole Deck waiting for him. The crowd, including to his amazement all eight E Deck Shepherds, stood round in a large semicircle in the corridor, and when he emerged, they burst into a round of applause. Tears streaming from his face, he went to every woman in turn to be given a good hug. Much to his surprise, he even found Talya standing there, looking apprehensive, but obviously determined to do justice to the occasion. He had another surprise when he got to the end of the circle, because Belle stood there, with a smart uniform jacket over her normal work clothes, cuffs in hand.

"Hands in front, citizen!"

Marlon looked at her, bewildered.

"Not to worry, Marlon, we have to clear your room and return your belongings to Stores," she said.

She clicked the cuffs on his wrists, and to cheers from the crowd, he returned to his room for the last time. Belle carefully collected and folded all his clothes and piled them onto his outstretched arms. Then, the room empty, he left and followed Belle to the end of the corridor through a double line of clapping, cheering detainees.

The journey down in the lift was made in silence. Marlon wanted to wipe his eyes but couldn't because of the pile of clothes on his handcuffed arms. Through the tears he returned to Stores, and gratefully dumped the pile on the counter.

"One for release?" asked the stores woman.

"Yes," replied Belle. "We're off to the Appeal Court to hear him cleared. He'll need to change into his release suit."

"Of course, Shepherd. Citizen? You get to keep the underwear while you live in the transitional housing. You can ask for more as and when you need it. Because it's all chipped, you can bring it back here for the laundry service. Understood?"

"Er, yes, citizen."

"I'll put it all in your box with your other stuff, for you to pick up when you return after your court visit. When you come back, you'll no longer be a detainee, so I'll cut off your disc then and you'll get your ID card back."

"It's slightly more complicated than that," said Belle. "He'll need a staff disc. He, or rather she, will be coming back to work here."

"How does that work then?" asked the stores woman, puzzled. "Never mind, you haven't got time for explanations, go in there and change. Here's your release suit."

Marlon changed, and handed back his E Deck dress. Belle stood in front of him and tidied him up.

"Ready? Just one last ordeal, and then you can relax."

"Belle, after the last few days I'm quite prepared for anything to happen. Yes, I'm ready."

Belle took him to a part of the complex he'd never seen before. It was the front entrance, where the staff and visitors normally arrived. Controller Brand was waiting for them.

"Citizen, you'll be travelling with us for this journey, in my car. I'm sorry but you'll have to be cuffed, as you're still technically a detainee. The whole thing that's happening today is symbolic, you understand. I'm going because I have to formally release you when you're officially cleared. Belle is going because as a detainee, you need an escort. I have no idea how long it's all going to take. Belle?"

"Yes, Controller. For the last time, citizen, hands in front."

They walked out of the front entrance and Marlon stopped.

"Citizen?"

"I remember now," Marlon said, squinting, "the big yellow thing in the sky. And those white fluffy things. Those green things on stalks. I've been inside the whole time, one forgets what the outside world looks like. It's noisy, too."

"We forget," the Controller murmured. "Of course, there's no proper windows in most of the complex. Some of the other detainees do get outside for exercise, but it can be a shock for most when they leave and have to face the world again. My car is over here."

The Controller's car was waiting, and she climbed into the front beside the driver. Belle helped Marlon into the back of the car and they set off. They took a route onto one of the cross-town expressways, but the journey still took nearly an hour. The driver dropped them off at the front of a huge old imposing building and they were guided inside by the door staff, and shown which court to go to. They were taken to a waiting room, and someone brought them drinks. After a short while a man was ushered into their waiting room accompanied by two aides.

"Service, Citizens. I am Marcus Matteson, the Minister in the Justice Ministry who carries responsibility for ensuring the smooth and correct running of the justice process."

The three introduced themselves, and he continued.

"I was very upset when I learned of this case. It represents a wholesale failure of the system at several levels," he said, and then he astonished them by getting down on one knee in front of Marlon and bowing his head.

"I offer the most abject apology of the State to you, citizen," he said. "Your case is such a bad one it may cost me and several of my colleagues our jobs. The court will tell you all, but I have to acknowledge a number of failings in the procedures which are of course designed to stop such events from happening. Your case is also quite notorious in the press, since it involves a gender changing episode. I must tell you now that you will be most generously compensated, and you should understand that the State would do this anyway without pressure from outside, given your circumstances.

"Firstly, you will be awarded, as is usual in cases of wrongful detention, the same wage as if you had stayed at work, for every day you were detained. Secondly, in view of your changed circumstances, the State considers that you should be treated the same as someone who has become permanently disabled, that you may have difficulty adapting and will assume that you may not be able to ever work again. Therefore, you will be paid a pension for the rest of your life which will be not less than your last working wage, and in fact will probably be somewhere near double. You will receive this pension even if you do manage to find employment in future years. Thirdly, because of your physical changes, and the need for ongoing treatment, the State will pay all and any medical costs for the rest of your life."

Marlon's tears flowed freely. "Thank you," he whispered, and, standing, he helped the Minister to regain his feet. "Thank you so much."

"I've seen video of what you used to look like," the Minister said, "nobody deserves to have something like this happen to them. Nobody. How are you managing?"

"Better than I expected," Marlon said, wiping his tears. "But I haven't been outside yet. I've spent the last six months in a bubble. I don't know how I'll get on in the outside world."

"If you need anything, you have only to ask. The State is in your debt."

"Citizen Minister," Belle asked, cautiously, "there is something you might be able to do for Marlon immediately."

"Yes?"

"You mentioned publicity. That's not going to be good for someone attempting to adjust to a new life the way Marlon is going to have to. He doesn't want to have newsies pushing videocams in his face everywhere he goes."

The Minister nodded. "You raise a good point. I'll speak to the court officials and see if we can't get some privacy for him. The facts of the case will come out, of course, most of them already are, but there's no reason for personal details to be released."

One of his aides received a call on his earpiece and spoke to the Minister. Shortly afterwards, a court official came to the waiting room for them. They were all ushered into a large courtroom with five senior Justiciars seated at the raised table. They were seated, and the proceedings began.

"This hearing represents the closing stages of the appeal of Marlon Allen Hillier with respect to the case of the State versus Marion Allen Hillier. We should note for the benefit of court reporters that although the details of the case may be reported as usual, the name of the appellant should not be made known, as the appellant's circumstances will require privacy from this time forward. We have previously heard testimony from Proctor Julian, who while investigating a case of fraud discovered an identification problem, and correctly brought the person of the appellant in for further investigation. Through no fault of his own, he was not able to complete the analysis which would have immediately cleared the appellant. The Custody Officer had noted the appellant's status on his own file, again correctly.

"The new Custody officer who was on shift the following day checked the case file instead of the appellant's personal file, saw the name and did not notice the mismatch. He assumed that Proctor Julian had brought in the correct suspect. The appellant was brought before Justiciar Cardona who noticed the mismatch, but also decided that Proctor Julian had brought in the correct suspect. Justiciar Cardona inspected the two personal files and decided that they belonged to the same person, and that the only way this could have happened was if the suspect had undergone gender reassignment. The appellant, a male citizen, was therefore convicted and ordered to be detained in a female facility. Since the gender reassignment had apparently not been authorised, she ordered it to be reversed.

"When the appellant reached Female Offender Containment Facility Five, his case was as usual placed into appeal status. This would normally have meant him being detained for a short period before the discrepancy was noted and then freed. But Proctor Julian had been injured and upon his return to duty he assumed that another Proctor had completed his case by arresting the correct suspect, so he didn't investigate.

"In the Offender Containment Facility, the Facility Medical Officer, for reasons of her own, decided to ignore the appeal status and begin the Regression Therapy. This of course failed, but has left the detainee with bodily alterations he is going to have to live with for the rest of his life. This case has been dealt with elsewhere, but we note it here for completeness.

"Meanwhile, Proctor Julian has obtained evidence that the same person who carried out the crimes for which the appellant was convicted also carried out identical crimes, with video evidence, for which the appellant cannot possibly be responsible. Since it is self evident that he was convicted by purest mischance, we hereby exonerate the appellant from all accusations of the crimes presented against him, and declare him innocent. The appellant should be released from custody immediately."

Marlon stood at Belle's prompting, and the Controller ceremonially removed the cuffs. Marlon executed a small bow in the direction of the Justiciars and sat down again.

"I understand that the Justice Minister responsible for regulating these matters is present in court -" Marlon looked to his left and saw him acknowledge the Senior Justiciar who was speaking "- and has already notified the appellant of the compensation package that he will receive. He has also already received our recommendations as a result of this case, and of the case involving Citizen Pannal, and he has promised to resolve these matters quickly. We therefore declare that this hearing is now ended."

The was an immediate rumble of conversation in the court, which increased once the Justiciars left the room. Belle threw her arms around Marlon and just avoided kissing him on the mouth. She whispered in his ear, "Is now okay?"

"It's a bit public, Belle," he replied. "Give me room to breathe, I've only been a free man for five minutes."

Reluctantly she released him, and they made their way back outside. The Controller suggested that they have lunch before they returned to the facility, and they eventually tracked down a restaurant attached to the court complex. While they were eating, with Marlon savouring the novelty of using metal knives and forks, Proctor Julian came to their table and asked if he could join them.

"I thought you might like to know what's happening in the case you got entangled with," he said to Marlon. "We actually made an arrest yesterday."

"Please do join us," said Marlon. "Go on."

"You heard in court, and I've mentioned it before, there was an incident while you were inside. Well, we eventually found a small number of similar incidents stretching back for a year or so, and the same woman was in all the videos. I tracked back the last ID and found it led to a woman who had lost her partner recently. It wasn't the suspect, but there were similarities in all the case details which pointed to an office which deals with updates to the ID database.

"It seems our suspect accidentally found a way to create duplicate ID entries. Now they can't be identical, because the system would reject them, hence the small changes in name and ID number. What she'd do was create a duplicate, map her own biometrics on to them, and issue herself an ID card which she would then use to draw out all the cash in the duplicate account. Then she'd cancel the biometric changes and abandon the duplicate account. The file she left confused everybody because she forgot to remove her picture, but it did provide a clue. Eventually, our backtracking led us to a clerk in the ID administration office, who fortunately for us looked identical to the woman in the videos."

"That sounds like quite a hole, Proctor," remarked the Controller.

"It is, but fortunately it only happened under very specific circumstances - such as when a citizen's partner died, and under certain other conditions. We've got her now, she'll be dealt with next week."

"If I may make a request," said the Controller, "make sure she doesn't get committed to my facility, please. I don't think my staff would treat her very kindly."

"Point taken, Controller. I'll pass that along. Well, congratulations, citizen," Julian said to Marlon, "I understand you're going to be going back to the facility to work. You have my best wishes." Julian took Marlon's hand and shook it. "Now, I must be going. Service, citizens."

After lunch, the driver collected them and drove them back to the facility. The three of them made their way back to Stores, where the storekeeper snipped off the necklace with his detention disc and replaced it with a new one carrying a golden staff disc. His new disc contained his revised gender designation and new female name, and could be removed when he left the facility, to provide anonymity. He was then handed a sports bag in which the storekeeper had packed all his belongings.

"Take as much time as you need to to settle in before you come back here," the Controller instructed, "although I know it's not likely to be very long in your case. Your new apartment is ready, and Belle will escort you over there. Good luck, Marion."

The two women walked out of the front entrance of the facility and into the late afternoon sunshine. There were clouds stretched across the sky in a way that promised a glorious sunset, and Marlon stopped to allow his eyes to adjust to the rich scene.

"Belle," Marlon said, after a while, "Why me?"

"What do you mean, dear?"

"I'm not a very good prospect for anyone at the moment, am I? I mean, I'm not a strong, handsome man. Heck, I never used to be a strong, handsome man. I don't think I make a particularly pretty woman, either. I'm half one thing and half the other, and I may have problems adjusting to life outside. I may even be impotent. Yet you still think I'm worth the trouble. Why?"

"Of course you're worth the trouble!" she replied. "Don't forget, I saw you when you arrived, and I've been with you ever since, so I know exactly what I'm getting. You can't have been that bad before, can you? You were obviously good enough to attract Anna. Women don't always go for the hunk types, you know. What I like about you is your kind, considerate nature, your thoughtful words, your smile, your sense of humour, your modesty. You have a confidence that most women lack, as well. Don't worry about the physical side, I'm not going to pressure you. We can just explore what each other has to offer, and we've all the time in the world to do it in. We'll take things slow, you're still adjusting, and you've a new job to think about as well. As for adjusting, I'm going to try to do the same thing with you as you did with Talya." She paused. "I'm not pushing you into something you don't want to do, am I?" she asked, suddenly aware that she'd made all the running.

"No, you're not," he replied. "Inside I'm still a man, and the man was attracted by you soon after I set eyes on you. But, as a man on a Deck crammed full of women most of whom were not bad looking, I had to be very careful what I said and did. I had a number of other things on my mind which were more important, as well. Now I don't have to be careful any more, and I couldn't have wished for a better conclusion. No, Belle, you're definitely not pushing me places I don't want to go," he added, eyes glistening.

Belle reached for Marlon's hand and linked his fingers through her own.

"Come on, love," she said, "I'll take you home."

Marion discovers she knows next to nothing about almost anything, and goes shopping with Belle for "essentials".

---

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.

Belle dumped Marion's bag on the small sofa and looked around.

"It's not bad, actually. Maybe a little larger than my place, in fact."

"Looks a bit worn, though," replied Marion. She gestured at the kitchen area, which had obviously seen better days.

"It's what you expect from transient housing," said Belle. "It's the sort of place people come and go, so no-one feels any sort of attachment for it. They all think, 'Let the next owner tidy it up', and in these particular circumstances the 'next owner' has other things on her mind."

"Dead right there," Marion agreed. She moved towards one of the two doors and opened it.

"That explains the apartment size," she added, "look at this."

Belle joined her in the doorway. The bedroom contained two beds, but one was a single and the other a double.

"Interesting," she said. "I suppose when a detainee comes out, they're going to have different wants and needs, so the housing authority hedged their bets."

"Not to mention the detainees might have psychological or mental problems, which could prevent them sleeping with partners at the start. Not to mention also detainees with families," Marion added.

Belle nodded, and moved to one of the beds, pulling the quilt away. "Looks like the linen is clean, anyway." She used the flat of her hand to test the mattress. "Seems reasonable. Not hammered like some I've come across. You shouldn't have a problem with sleeping tonight."

The apartment appeared to have been cleaned and made ready for it's new occupant. As all the apartments in the block were reserved for former detainees or current staff of Female Offender Containment Facility Five, Marion supposed that a little extra care had been taken than was normally the case. The two moved back to the living room. Belle went to the kitchen alcove and started opening cupboards.

"Would you like a drink? There's a box here with some basic foodstuffs, enough to rustle up a meal for later. Tea or coffee?"

"Either will do fine, Belle. How much food is there? I suppose we'll have to go out and do some shopping. I can't imagine they've left very much for us."

"You're right, there. Hmm. Three days for one person eating carefully, I would say. How do you think you are going to manage cooking? You haven't been near a kitchen for nearly seven months."

"I should manage, especially if you're going to be around making sure I don't cut an artery or burn the block down," Marion replied. "Thinking about shopping, I'd better log in and see how much I've got in the account. I don't know when this pension I've been promised will turn up."

Marion sat down in front of the apartment's personal terminal, stuck her ID card in the slot and turned it on. The keyboard felt odd after using the non-moveable ones in the facility. There was obviously much to be updated on her personal file, but she was pleased to see that, as promised, all her data from her time inside had been transferred to her external file. Her account held a substantial sum, but it all appeared to date from before Marlon's non-arrest half a year ago. She decided to leave the data housekeeping for another time, but had a thought before she disconnected.

"Belle, if you'll give me your card, I'll enable the front door for you. There's absolutely no reason why you shouldn't have access," she offered.

Belle turned from her tea-making activity, looking embarrassed.

"Thank you for your kind offer," she said, "which I will accept, but I can't give you my card just at the moment, since it's still in the facility." She fingered the staff disc, on it's braid round her neck. "I should have changed before I came out with you, but I guess I got too excited to think properly. I can't take out the card if I'm wearing the disc, and vice versa." Marion looked suitably puzzled. "I'll explain, and show you, when you report for work. I'll have to go back and change out of this uniform before tonight, in any case. It's safe enough coming here with you, but I can't walk around the streets like this for obvious reasons."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd have a problem," Marion said. "There's obviously much I have to learn."

Belle shrugged. "It varies. Let's say, there's an element of risk, depending which part of town you're in, and the uniform can put people off when all you want to do is blend in. You'll soon get used to how the system works. Here's your tea."

They sat next to one another on the sofa and decided to plan out the next few days. Belle had taken leave to be available for Marion, which touched her.

"You shouldn't have! You don't take much leave as it is," she protested.

"I have lots of leave owing that I haven't taken," was the reply, "just like most Shepherds. The staff budget is fairly tight, and there aren't really enough of us to cover properly. I suspect if the regulations didn't insist on us taking at least a portion of our allotted leave, there'd be even fewer of us, and we'd be working every day of the year. At any rate, I've got the next two days off, and I intend to use them to help ease you into your new life. Controller Brand and Sophia both realise that you are going to have a much more difficult time adjusting than any other detainee, so they are happy with me doing that. You've already done a lot for the facility, so returning the favour is the least we can do."

"So, you're here officially, then?"

"Yes and no. I think any of the E Deck Shepherds would have volunteered, but Elena recognised that I had additional reasons for wanting to do it. Does that concern you?" Belle's eyes showed an uncertainty at odds to her normal personality.

"I've no complaints so far," replied Marion.

They decided to venture to the local shops in the morning. Marion went into the bedroom to unpack the bag she had been given, and Belle popped into the bathroom before she went back to the facility to change. No sooner had the bathroom door shut than the front door chime went. Marion opened the door to find a man standing there.

"Citizen," he said, before entering without being invited. "I'm Supervisor Hirsch," he added after Marion had closed the door. "This apartment block is my responsibility, and I make sure the residents don't get up to things they're not supposed to." Marion followed her visitor back into the living room.

"I don't want any noise or mess from you, understand? No streams of rowdy visitors, or too many male friends. No comings and goings all hours of the day or night, either. No pets. Got any children?" Marion shook her head. "Good. Little bastards running around the place disturb everyone else. No alcohol permitted in here. Don't get into debt. Don't do anything illegal, or you'll find yourself inside again. You came out, you can just as easily go back." He leaned towards her. "Understand me?"

"I won't 'easily go back', as you put it," Marion said mildly, trying to back away from the bad breath the man was blowing in her face, "since I was exonerated today. I haven't committed any crime."

"Nonsense!" the man said angrily. "You went in, you were guilty. The State doesn't make mistakes. Everyone who comes out thinks they were wrongly convicted. I put up with enough of this crap from others to know you're lying. Don't think you can back-chat me either, I've dealt with far tougher than you, I can tell you."

"Don't you read the news?" Marion asked, her temper beginning to rise. Who was this jumped up jerk, and why was he in charge of such a sensitive appointment? "I just spent the day in the Appeal Court getting cleared."

"I don't bother with the news, I don't have time for that sensationalist rubbish," the man said dismissively. "Anyhow, it's likely you got off on a technicality, if what you are saying really happened at all. You're all guilty as hell, and you got put where you deserved to be." He raised a finger and wagged it at Marion. "If you're a trouble maker, all I have to do is notify the Controller, and you'll be out of here before you have a chance to unpack. So keep your trap shut, and do what I tell you. Otherwise you get an adverse mark on your file. Understand me?"

"And how do I get to put an adverse mark on your file," said Belle, who had silently come out of the bathroom behind the Supervisor. The man spun round, obviously unaware that anyone else had been in the apartment. His eyes widened at Belle's uniform.

"Shepherd," the man said, in a tone which indicated bare civility.

"For your information, citizen, Citizen Hillier here, myself, and Controller Brand have just spent the entire day at the Appeal Court where Citizen Hillier was indeed exonerated," Belle explained to the man. "I would be delighted if you want to make a report to the Controller. She will probably compare your report to the one I am about to write, and the one Citizen Hillier will write, before she comes to any conclusions. Oh, did Citizen Hillier have a chance to explain that she's about to join the staff at the facility?" The man's eyes dropped, and his complexion paled. Belle continued, "If this is the way you browbeat new residents, then I suspect you might not be the right person for your job. Now, leave this apartment, and never return. If I find you've harassed my colleague here again, I'll pitch you through the nearest window. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, citizen," the man muttered. But his eyes flared, and it was plain that he resented not being able to get his own way. He turned, and walked out of the apartment without another word, slamming the front door behind him.

"Asshole," Belle said to the closed door.

Marion shook her head. "Having someone like him around here is not a good idea," she said. "Detainees who have just been released are particularly vulnerable. If they have to put up with a monster like him, it's no wonder many of them turn back to crime. Will you raise this, or shall I?"

"Tricky," Belle replied. "It's basically our word against his. Now, granted, our word may be taken a bit more seriously than the average detainee's might, but it's still just a heated confrontation. Let's leave him to stew and see if there's any more to him than a bit of bluster. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was interrupted..." She turned and went back into the bathroom.

When she emerged, Marion had just refreshed her drink and was wondering what to do next. The man's interruption had somewhat tainted the atmosphere and derailed her thoughts.

"I'll be going, then," Belle said, "I expect I'll be about an hour. When I get back, we can sort out an evening meal. Is that okay?"

"I suppose so," Marion replied, distracted. "Tell me," she asked, "are you expecting to stay overnight? I've no objections if you do, but don't expect anything special from me tonight. It's been a hectic day."

"Ah, I don't think I ought to stay tonight. I don't want to overpower you while you're trying to adjust to the outside world. I haven't brought any overnight things with me, in any case. I'll probably get here just after breakfast tomorrow. Why, do you think you'll need company? Or do you think that bully will be back once he knows I've gone?"

Marion shrugged. "He may do. I should be able to handle him, though, now I know about him. He's going to get a bit of a surprise if he tries anything, isn't he?"

"I hope so. He thinks you're an average woman, after all." She frowned. "I think, for your own safety, that you'll have to go on at least part of the Shepherd's training courses when you start. Especially the parts that deal with self-defence. Other parts of the facility aren't as nice and calm as E Deck are, you know." Belle went to the front door and opened it. "See you later, dear," she said, and closed it behind her.

Marion went to the door and was surprised to find that there was no way to bolt it from inside. That meant that anyone who had card permissions could enter at any time. She supposed that was reasonable given that the occupants were released detainees who might have problems, but it also meant that the supervisor could let himself in when he felt like it. Shrugging, she took her tea into the bedroom and finished packing her things away.

She looked at the male things she had worn when she had been delivered to the facility, and felt a pang, because she knew she would never be able to fit any of them again. Even if her circumstances didn't work out, and she was forced to revert to being male, she doubted whether she would be able to wear them in the future. She folded the garments and put them in a bottom drawer, to be passed on to a second-hand shop or a charity store.

Belle returned, wearing a short straightish plain skirt with a flounce, a close-fitting top with a low neckline and a casual denim jacket. She had brushed her hair and was wearing heels. Marion looked startled when she opened the door, as she had never seen Belle wearing anything but uniform.

"Gosh, Belle, you do look attractive! I've got so used to seeing you in uniform that you almost look like a different person," she said.

"I try," Belle replied modestly. "I spend so long each day wearing that outfit that often I can't wait to get it off and flaunt myself a bit. I take it you approve?"

"Oh, yes, indeed. I was right about you." Marion pulled Belle inside, closed the door and went into a clinch. Their lips met, and for a while they were busy. Finally they broke, and Marion grimaced ruefully.

"This would work better if only one of us had breasts," she said. "I suppose we'll have to work out some arrangement."

"I'm sure it's not going to be a problem," replied Belle. She took Marion's hand and led her back into the living room. "Shall I start getting us some food?"

Belle did the major share of the food preparation, as she didn't want to get Marion tired out handling unfamiliar tools and utensils, but Marion soon adjusted, and a basic but filling meal was cooked and eaten. They tidied away and then sat on the sofa to talk before Belle had to leave.

"Belle, I know next to nothing about you. I don't even know where you live. Come to that, I'm not even sure where we are right now."

"Oh, I've got an apartment overlooking Victory Park. It's about seven tram stops, eight if I go to the local supermarket on the way home. The facility, and this building, is in Highfield. I'm surprised you never knew that."

"When I was sent here I never saw daylight. I had no idea where I was being taken. Come to that, I had no idea where I was to start with. I didn't think I would be told if I asked, once I was inside."

"That's terrible!" Belle said, but nodded. "You're right, though. The State doesn't seem to think that it's necessary for detainees to know much about their surroundings." She shrugged. "I don't suppose it's that important, once you're inside. One facility should be much like another. But let's not talk about work. I do enough of that all day, and you've had six months of it. Let's see what's on the box."

They watched a variety program, and then a news, and then it was time for Belle to leave. She stood up and pulled on her jacket.

"You're going to be okay on your own?" she asked as Marion stood up.

"Yes. I don't expect I'll get much sleep, never do the first night in a strange bed, but I should be all right left to my own devices. I'll miss breakfast thumping into the slot, though. You lot have spoilt me for mealtimes."

"Yes, of course, we've been running round after you, waiting on you hand and foot." She thought. "Actually, we have, haven't we? Hmm. I think I'll recommend some hard labour for the next batch we get. I must be going." Marion walked to the door with Belle.

"Belle," said Marion slowly, "I don't even know your name. You never use anything but your first name inside."

"That's not my first name," she replied, "my full name is Hortense Fleurette Isabelle Marchand."

Marion discovered her mouth was open, and closed it. She gulped, and then said, "I'll be calling you Belle, then."

"Thank you," Belle said quietly, and Marion understood that she had been given the option of calling her something else, a privilege not extended by Belle to many other people.

"Oh, and when you come in the morning," Marion added.

"Yes?"

"Bring some overnight things, won't you?"

Belle dimpled, and said, "Thank you," again, hugging Marion tightly. A fairly full-featured goodnight kiss was exchanged, and then Belle left. Marion retired for her first night of freedom.

Belle turned up the next morning just after Marion had finished a simple breakfast and cleared it away. She was wearing a short, flared skirt this time, paired with a brighter top and her denim jacket. She had restyled her short hair and added makeup to her already attractive face. Marion was overwhelmed.

"Gosh! You look good this morning! I was impressed last night, but it's amazing how much different clothing and a little makeup can change things," Marion said as they went into the living room.

"I've done virtually nothing, actually," Belle replied. "When I'm on leave, I usually dress up a bit. The uniform restrictions are such we don't get a lot of freedom on what to wear inside, so we all tend to cut loose when we're off duty. When you come to one of our parties - and you will be invited, I can guarantee that - you'll need dark glasses so as not to be blinded by the outfits we wear."

"Ouch. You're not filling me with confidence here, you know."

"You'll get used to it," Belle said, encouragingly. "In fact, I deliberately decided to wear this to demonstrate the difference clothing, make-up and hair can make. Consider it your first lesson in the art of being female."

"I'm worried," said Marion. "You've had all your life to learn this stuff, and it's second nature to you. I can't imagine I'll ever get it entirely right. I feel like a total fraud. I understand good clothes, smart outfits, accessories and such, but it never applied to me. I have no idea how any of this applies to the female me."

"We'll take it slowly, to give you time to absorb the information you need. Don't worry, you'll be looked after, as much as we're able to. Now, have you thought about what to do today?"

"We need to stock up on food and household goods first, I think, before we go on any other expeditions. I would have made a list, but I don't have a datapad. Mine got confiscated when I was taken in, and I haven't seen it since. Food, soap of various sorts, cleaning materials. Toilet paper. I didn't realise how much I miss my nice small room on E Deck until I sat on the toilet last night. No wonder detainees have trouble adjusting when they come out."

Belle nodded. "That's a good idea. There's a local store on the corner of the main road, right where I catch my tram. Most of the residents around here use it, so it should be able to fill all those sorts of needs, and it will give you a taste of doing the normal things people do. We'll have to go out later, I think, because you can't keep wearing that suit outside, it's far too recognisable. So I propose a trip to a hyperstore this afternoon, if that's agreeable. There's one I pass on the way home, three tram stops away, so it's not far, and it'll be fairly quiet at that time of day. What do you think?"

Marion let out a big breath. "It has to be done," she said. "I can't say I'm looking forward to it. Let's get this morning's shopping organised. If you don't mind using your datapad?"

The two women left the apartment block and walked up to the main road. At that time of morning, the rush hour had finished and the traffic was fairly quiet. Marion realised that after being in the near-sterile environment of E Deck that she would have to adapt, and quickly, to the bedlam of the outside world. Fortunately she was with a friend who had no intention of letting her be overwhelmed by her enforced change in circumstances.

The local store was actually quite large, and they soon filled a trolley with the necessities of life. Belle explained as they went round the aisles that because Marion lived so close to the facility, and was going to be a member of staff, that she had the option of eating her morning and evening meals there. This meant that if Marion did have a shortage of something to eat, she could always take her meals inside if she felt she didn't want to shop before cooking, or if time didn't permit it.

They lingered for a while in areas that Marlon would have walked straight past in his previous life, hair products, hygiene, make-up, nail care, skin care, jewellery, accessories. There was such a variety even in this local store, and Marion simply didn't have a feel about what was suitable, what was necessary, or even what to do with some of the items. She began to wonder if she had made the wrong decision.

"It'll come, love, it'll come. It's just going to take some time," Belle said encouragingly. "Because you'll be spending most of your time in the facility, most of this is irrelevant. You can experiment a little at a time, and at your own pace. When the time comes, you should have some idea about what suits you, and what you need. Trust me on this, you'll see."

Marion was relieved that no-one in the shop, staff or customers, had taken any notice of her. It looked like, superficially, everyone accepted her for what they assumed she was. Inside, though, she still had a dread that at some point she would be found out. They staggered back to the apartment laden with bags.

After a good lunch, during which Belle warned Marion not to overeat in case her figure went, Marion logged on to her terminal to find out if her account had been updated. It had, and she beckoned Belle over to look at the figures.

"What's that item? Seven month's wages? You were on a good rate even then," Belle commented. "That's more money than I'll ever see, I think, in a lifetime."

"Now who's selling themselves short," asked Marion. "Seven months ago, I could never have predicted this happening. Don't go tempting fate."

"Yes, but look what you had to go through to get to this point," Belle pointed out. "Still, there's going to be no worry affording you a new wardrobe. Are you ready to make a start?"

"No, I'm not. I don't want to do this, Belle," Marion said heavily. "I know I have to, and I know I'm going to be doing this from now until forever, but I've no desire to go shopping at all. Not the sort of shopping we have to do this afternoon."

"Slowly, I said," said Belle, "and slowly it'll be. We'll keep it dead simple today. I'm not going to force you to buy loads of stuff you can't see the point of, but you do need to lay in some basics. Do you agree?"

"I suppose so." Marion switched off the terminal and stood. "Let's be doing it, then, before my cold feet become completely frozen."

They left the apartment and walked up to the main road to wait for a tram. The service was not so frequent at that time of day, so they had to wait fifteen minutes or so, during which time Marion's nerves continued to deteriorate. Eventually one arrived and they made themselves comfortable for the short trip.

The retail park which was their destination was, like most, a series of large warehouse-sized buildings on three sides of an extensive open area, the main road being the fourth. Belle headed for the largest of the stores on the park, Marion reluctantly following.

"I think what we'll do this afternoon is just get you a basic set of items you can mix and match together," Belle said as they walked. "A couple of skirts, maybe three or four tops, and a jacket. Some shoes if you've got any energy left. We'll ignore underwear for the time being, since the facility-provided stuff is perfectly serviceable, and it's all you're allowed to wear when you're on duty anyway. You don't need to completely discard the suit, you can wear the skirt, the blouse and the jacket individually with the items we're going to buy this afternoon and no-one will be the wiser." She considered a moment. "Hmm. The jacket is a bit obvious, I suppose. We'll see. I'm guessing you've no clue as to what you think you might want, in terms of colour or style?"

"No, of course not," Marion replied. "Up till now, after all, all I've been interested in is how good a woman looked while wearing some outfit or other. The idea of me having to consider what I looked like in similar garments just didn't apply."

"Okay," Belle said. "Will you be willing to let me choose things for you, then? I'll try to be objective, because I know that every woman has her own special likes and dislikes, and I don't want to force my own tastes on you."

"I am expecting you to," Marion replied. "A lot of men are quite happy letting a woman choose clothing for them, so I suppose I'm normal in that respect. But I'm sure you'll give me the whys and wherefores of everything you pick out for me, so I can figure it out for myself in the future."

"Indeed I will." Belle held open the door, and they entered the store. Instantly their senses were assailed by the scent from the many cosmetic counters in front of them. Marion immediately wanted to turn round and run, but Belle kept a firm grip on her hand and guided her through to the sections beyond, eventually ending up at the clothing area.

"There's just so much of it," Marion said, her voice low, "how ever do you figure out what to choose?"

"It's horses for courses," Belle explained, "over here are outfits you'd wear to an occasion, like a wedding, or a party, or a trip to the ballet, or something like that. Over there are leisure clothes. There's business wear, day wear, maternity wear, holiday wear, clothes for children, teenagers, seniors, age groups in between, nightwear, lingerie. Footwear, tights, bags, jewellery accessories down that way." She used her arm to indicate the sections she was describing. "You'll soon come to recognise what's useful and what to ignore because it's unsuitable. Over here is what we need today, ready-to-wear day wear."

Marion looked wistfully at the small area reserved for men's clothes, and recognised that she was unlikely to ever need to go there again. She sighed, and followed Belle through the store. An assistant zeroed in on them as they reached the area of Belle's interest.

"Service, citizens," she said. "Do you need any help?" she added, looking doubtfully at Marion's release suit.

"Not at the moment, citizen," Belle replied, "however, I'm afraid we will be looking at quite a few items today. My friend here," she indicated Marion, "has recovered from an illness and is unsure of what suits her any more, so we'll be trying to find out what works and what doesn't. Is that acceptable, citizen?"

The assistant shrugged. "We're relatively quiet at the moment," she replied, "go ahead. I'll be over at the payment desk if you need any help."

"'Recovered from an illness'?" Marion repeated as the assistant retreated.

"If I told her the whole story, we'd still be here when the store closed. It's near enough the truth, if you squint a bit. Let's find you some skirts, first."

As the heap of skirts Belle piled on to Marion's outstretched arms reached double figures, Marion observed anxiously," I thought you said 'a couple of skirts' earlier on, Belle."

"I did," was the reply. "We just don't know which two yet. You'll notice that I've picked a variety of lengths and styles, which you can try on to see what might suit you." She grinned. "Of course, there's no reason why we shouldn't take three if we find three that suit you. Or more."

Still carrying the pile of skirts, they moved on to racks of shirts, t-shirts and light knits suitable for the time of year. Looking critically at the previously chosen skirts, Belle picked her own pile of tops for Marion to try. They headed over to the payment desk.

"Citizens?"

"My friend will be trying these on. Will it be possible to have a cubicle to ourselves, do you think? She has, er, issues, like I mentioned before. It's not as if you're busy just now."

"Well, ah, it's not store policy -" the assistant was obviously reluctant.

"Marion, can you reach your card?" Belle asked. Marion fished it out with her free hand and gave it to Belle, who stuck it into the payment machine on the desk.

"Check the balance, citizen," she instructed the assistant.

That person's eyes grew round as she saw the total, and her manner changed, although she was still confused because she couldn't figure out what was going on.

"Certainly, citizens. I'll make sure you're not disturbed. Come this way."

Once in the cubicle, Marion stripped off the suit and Belle handed her a plain knitted top.

"We'll use this to start you off with, even though it probably won't go with some of the skirts. We just want to get a feel for what kind of shape you've got to start with." Belle passed over the first of the skirts, which Marion climbed into. She stood looking at herself in the full-length mirror.

"I don't know," Marion said miserably. "It sort of leaves me cold at the moment. What am I supposed to be looking for?"

"Um," said Belle. "I keep forgetting that you don't see your body quite the same way an average woman might. Try this, instead. What does Marlon think of the way the woman in the mirror is dressed? Does he think it suits her? Does he think the skirt is too short? Too long? Does it fit properly? Does the colour suit her? Try doing it that way, to start with."

Marion closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them imagined that the mirror was instead a display, showing a woman who she did not know. She found that this disconnect seemed to work, and discovered that she was actually looking at a woman who could be somewhat attractive if she put her mind to it. She turned this way and that, trying to see the woman as other people would see her.

"Yes, that helps," she said. "I'm beginning to get the idea. I think I should try on the other skirts before I decide anything, though."

"Of course! That's what we're here for."

After trying everything on, some items several times, they returned to the payment desk. Marion had chosen three skirts with five tops of various sorts which matched them. Belle had cautioned against buying too much at the start in case Marion's sense of colour and style developed and she ended up with items she didn't want to wear.

"Can you charge these for us, please? We've got to go and find her a jacket yet. We'll be back."

Not only did they find a jacket, similar in style to Belle's but in a dark colour to match two of the skirts, but Belle spotted racks of trousers and insisted Marion investigate those as well. She ended up with a pair of good quality lightweight trousers and a pair of denim jeans.

"You'll find the jeans come in handy," Belle said, "especially once the weather turns. But they're also useful if you're just slopping around or if you're doing something grubby. I tend not to wear jeans or trousers much, because I spend all day in trousers, but there are occasions when they're very useful."

"I like the jeans, actually," commented Marion. "They fit me much better than Marlon's ever fitted him. In fact I'm impressed how much better most of the clothes I tried on fit me than Marlon's clothes ever fit him."

The assistant entered the purchases and then asked, "Do you want to use your coupons for these purchases, citizen?"

"Coupons? What coupons?"

"You have eight coupons, citizen, for clothing, and another two for shoes on your card. The jacket and one of the skirts won't be fully covered by the coupon value, though. Would you be paying the difference, if you decide to use the coupons?"

"I didn't know I had coupons," said Marion, mystified. She waved her arm. "Yes, I might as well make use of them as they're there. Take the extra from my account."

Belle dug into her bag and pulled out a clip of cash. She peeled one of the notes from the wad and handed it to the girl.

"For your trouble, citizen."

"Oh, well, I, if you insist, citizen. Thank you very much for your custom."

Belle and Marion walked away from the payment desk laden with shopping bags. Belle steered them towards the accessories section, and they ended up looking at shoulder bags.

"You definitely need a bag, if you're to be like every other woman. In time you'll have a cupboard full of the things, but for now we'll find you something useful to be going on with. You only managed today because you don't have much stuff to carry about yet and your suit jacket has pockets. Something like that, or this, or this one, perhaps. Do any of them strike a chord at all?"

Marion wrinkled her face. "Really don't fancy that one. That one's not too bad, I suppose. How about those on that other shelf?"

"They're quite good, but a fair bit more expensive. Do you want to spend that amount of money if you don't like it in a month or so?"

Marion nodded. "I understand. What you're saying is that I can make mistakes now, because my judgement isn't fully developed, and I don't want to make expensive mistakes. You're right. I think I'll have this one, it looks as if it should go with some of the items we've bought. What do you think?"

"You're beginning to get the idea. Yes, I think that will do you fine for work or for shopping like this, which is mostly what you're going to be doing for the near future. Let me have it, I'll buy it as a present for you." Marion protested, but Belle insisted.

Goods paid for, Belle suggested that they get a cab to return to the apartment, to save having to carry all the bags on and off the tram. They entered the apartment and Belle went to the kitchen to start making the evening meal while Marion took her purchases into the bedroom to put them away. She had decided to change into some of the things they had bought, but was soon out and into the kitchen.

"Belle, someone's been through my things," she said.

"What? Let me see."

They went into the bedroom and Marion explained her suspicions.

"Just a moment, let me check my overnight bag," Belle said. A few moments was all it needed to confirm that her belongings had been gone through as well. Nothing seemed to be missing.

"It's the supervisor, isn't it?" asked Marion.

"Yes, I imagine so," said Belle, "but he may just be messing with our heads. Nothing's gone, is it?"

"No, but then I've hardly anything he'd want to take in the first place. Once I've bought a few things it'll be a different story, though. I just don't like the thought of his dirty mitts all over my things. What should we do?"

"We'll pop into the facility first thing tomorrow and talk to somebody. We've still nothing concrete to go on. He could claim we're just a couple of women with too much imagination. Let it ride for now."

After dinner Belle insisted that Marion try on everything that had been bought, and she kept up a running commentary on how and when to wear certain combinations, and how certain cuts would enhance or disguise the female figure as required. Marion began to wilt under the torrent of information Belle was trying to teach her.

"It's a lot of work, isn't it, Belle, being a woman. I don't think I realised until today just how much is involved," Marion said as she modelled yet another combination.

"It doesn't seem that way to me," she replied, "but then I've been doing nothing else my entire life, so I suppose I just don't realise I'm doing it. It takes an outsider's viewpoint, like yours, to highlight just how much attention women pay to clothes and appearance. It's like asking a fish how it breathes, it's automatic. Poor thing," she sympathised, "I don't think anyone at the facility realises just how difficult this life-changing transition is for you. I begin to understand just why you've been effectively categorised by the State as 'disabled' now. I'm afraid what we did today barely scratches the surface, and you've got a lot of hard work ahead before it gets easier."

"Thank you for your kind words of support," Marion said half in jest.

"I didn't mean to imply that you're on your own. Everyone in the facility who knows you is fully behind you. I guarantee you'll have all and any support you are likely to need."

"I know it, and it overwhelms me. I don't know how I can begin to repay you all for your help."

"Just keep doing what you did on E Deck, and we'll be more than satisfied," asserted Belle. "If you can do to the other Decks what you did there, you'll more than repay us. How do you feel about what you're wearing now?"

"The top is a bit loose, I think. Why did you pick that size and not the next lower? I think I would have fitted a smaller size better."

"I had a word with Sophia day before yesterday. Your physical transformation isn't yet finished. In some respects, she said, it's as if you've gone through a late female puberty. That means your breasts are still developing. Problem with breasts, as any teenage girl will tell you, is that there's no control over what you'll end up with, or when, you get what you're given. I decided to give you a little breathing room."

"Oh. I hadn't realised that. Thanks for the warning."

"Yes. She said that it could be another year before they're fully formed. After that point, it would be possible to tinker a bit if they are too large or too small."

"Plastic surgery?"

"Yes."

"I'll leave that, I think, for another time. In twelve months I could be a different person again. Time enough then to make decisions for my future."

Marion got tired, and they decided to turn in. Belle had brought one of her 'fancier' nightdresses, which showed the stark difference between hers and the facility-issue one that Marion wore. They both climbed into the double bed.

"Just hold me tonight, Belle. I'm too mentally exhausted to want to do anything else at the moment."

"You have all the time you want, love. I'm content to wait. I'm not going to push you into doing anything you don't want to. Come here, just put your head here." Belle cuddled Marion close.

"This is very strange," said Marion. The smell from the dab of perfume Belle had applied first thing that morning was still distinctive. "I'm doing something familiar, but at the same time it feels completely strange. I wouldn't care to be anywhere else right now, though."

"Good," said Belle, kissing Marion gently. "Good night."

A visit to Site Security followed by another trip to the mall. Marion discovers shoes.

---

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.

After breakfast the following morning, they dressed carefully for their visit to the facility. Belle explained that because they were going 'inside the fence', as opposed to the publicly accessible parts of the building, their clothing had to follow certain rules. No underwires. No separate belts, no shoes with laces, no tights or stockings, no hand or shoulder bags. No datapads or communicators, not that Marion had any, but Belle had to leave hers behind.

They reached the front door of the facility just as breakfast was ending and their IDs admitted them with no problems. Belle thought that the best person to speak to was probably Site Security, and they were led to an office by one of the security staff.

"Service, citizens. I'm Site Security Director Donna Khiskov. Do have a seat, how can I help you?"

Belle explained what had happened, and had to follow it up with an explanation of Marion's connection to the facility.

"You're right, it could be said that the evidence is circumstantial, but that's no reason to ignore it. I think you're doing just the right thing, but it might be prudent to take some extra precautions. Now, I don't know if you realise, but all those apartments have video monitors installed." Both Marion and Belle looked shocked. Khiskov held up her hand. "They're not usually connected, I assure you. It's just that when the blocks were built, it was felt that it would be a good idea to keep an eye on detainees who had just been released, so the pickups were built in at the time. We might be able to remote-activate them and keep an eye on the apartment for you when you're not there. Would you mind if we did that?"

On the face of it, it sounded like a good offer, but Belle was concerned about privacy.

"Can I ask, are you two an item?" Khiskov asked.

Marion said, "We're giving it serious consideration."

Khiskov nodded. "I will give specific instructions to the monitoring staff, and I'll also give you some instructions on how to let them know when you want privacy. You can do that from a communicator. Satisfactory?"

They both nodded.

"In the meantime, I'll see if I can get our local Proctor to have a gentle look into Supervisor Hirsch's background, and see if we can find anything to explain his activities. I'm sorry, citizen," she said to Marion, "you've already been the object of one rogue's actions, I don't want to let you become the victim of another one."

"Thank you, citizen."

"You're starting work here, then, citizen?" Khiskov asked Marion.

"Yes, I'll probably come in tomorrow, although to start with I don't know that what I'll be doing could be classed as 'work' for the first few weeks. Oh. I'll be starting a new employment, won't I? Will that involve you?"

"Not me, no. My department, certainly. There's a certain amount of paperwork -" they still used the term even though most places had been paper-free for decades "- which needs to be done, and then there's some training." Khiskov frowned. "You're not going to be a Shepherd, then? I'm not certain how you fit into the organisation here if you aren't."

"Nobody's sure how I'm going to fit in yet, as this is a new post. It seems I'll be reporting to the Facility Medical Officer, if that helps. Perhaps you'd better have a word with Sophia, she may have more idea than I do at the moment."

"I'll do that. Thank you for coming, citizen, Shepherd."

Belle was quite happy to depart at that point. She was on leave, after all, and coming back to her place of work on one of her rare days off did not amuse her, even though it was in a good cause. Their exit from the building was halted, however, by the receptionist.

"Citizen Hillier?"

"Service, citizen?"

"I've had a call from Stores. They noticed you were on-site and asked if you could call in before you left."

Puzzled, the two women made their way through to the Stores desk. Marion remembered - just - her first visit here and breathed a sigh of relief that she was returning this time merely as an interested bystander.

"Citizen Hillier?"

"Service, citizen."

"Oh, service, Marion. How are you managing outside so far?"

"It was a shock to the system, yesterday. There's an awful lot to learn about this female business. I'm barely started. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. There was a delivery today with your name on it. Rather, your original male name on it. I was going to send it over, but as I discovered you were in the building I thought I'd give it to you personally. Just a minute."

The woman wandered off between the shelving and returned carrying Marlon's box. She opened it and withdrew a plastic bag.

"This is yours, I believe?"

"Oh, yes! It's the items I had in my pocket when I got taken to the Proctor's station. How did they get here?"

"They would have been released from storage when you were set free. Normally they would have been forwarded to a detainee who was released, but I knew you were coming back here, so I held on to them."

"Thanks. Is there anything to sign?"

"Yes, there's a tear-off strip. Here's a stylus."

Inside the bag were Marlon's datapad, communicator, timepiece and wallet.

"Don't open the bag till you get outside," the stores keeper cautioned. "Belle's told you about the rules in here?"

"Of course. Well, thank you again. I'll probably see you sometime tomorrow when I start work."

"Probably. Oh, and like your outfit. Belle been teaching you the ropes?"

"Indeed she has."

Outside, Marion put the plastic bag into her shoulder bag and the two women made their way back to the apartment.

"Well, that solves a couple of problems," Marion said. "I was wondering if I needed to buy another datapad and communicator. I don't need to, now."

"You might want to think about that," Belle said as Marion pulled open the plastic bag and tipped the contents on the table. "These are fairly standard designs, but they're not recent models and they're solid and masculine-looking. You might think about replacing them with more modern, dainty, feminine models as time goes on."

"As always, you spot the most obvious things I miss. I really have to be single-minded about this business, don't I?"

"You will do to start with, but it should become automatic as you adjust to your new circumstances. Shall we have an early lunch and then go out? You still have things to get before you start work."

"Like what? I thought we got a lot done yesterday."

"Shoes is the main thing. Perhaps some underwear. You want a better nightdress than the ones you're wearing? Some basic cosmetics. Anything else we see. We can just go on a trawl through the smaller stores on that retail park and perhaps fill in some of the corners in your wardrobe."

"If you insist. Just don't keep me out too long, will you? I can only take so much of this at the moment."

"I'm sorry," Belle said contritely. "I keep forgetting you've just spent the last six months in a box. But, just like Talya, you do have to adjust to the wider world. Sandwiches, and a cooked meal this evening?"

After lunch, the two women adjusted their clothing, since they were no longer restricted by the requirements of the facility. Belle changed her facility-issue bra for a lacy one, and added a belt to her ensemble. Marion got out her bag and was going to put her datapad and communicator into it, but discovered that the power packs of both were discharged.

"That's that," she said when Belle returned to the living room. "The chargers for both of these were back at my old apartment. I've no idea where they are likely to be now, and I doubt I'll be able to find replacements any more. We'll have to find me some new gadgets while we're out, Belle."

Belle thought and said, "I'm not sure of the exact sequence of events, Talya may be able to help there, but usually a criminal's effects get boxed up and the apartment returned to the pool when they get convicted - assuming they don't have a partner or family, of course. I expect you'll get a notification some day soon when the release order trickles through the system, and someone will want you to take your belongings off the State's hands."

"Great. Something else to worry about. I hope I'm out of this dump by the time they catch up with me. There's no room for my things in here, that's for certain. Are we ready to go?"

The two women caught the tram, as they had done the previous day. Marion found it easier going, but still didn't particularly like going out into public places. Belle picked out one of several stores that sold shoes and headed for it.

"What sort of shoes are we looking for, then? Do I need shoes for work?"

"No, actually. The uniform which Stores issues for staff is of a decent quality, and includes footwear which is both robust and comfortable, so you shouldn't have to worry on that account. Today, we'll just look at what's available, and see if we can't get something to supplement those things you're wearing at the moment. You need something you can slip into in the evenings, at the very least."

"I hate shoe shopping," Marion muttered. "At least, Marlon did. All that standing around while thirty pairs of shoes got mulled over before all being rejected was not my idea of a good way of spending my time."

"I sympathise," said Belle. "But this time, you're not just a bystander, you have to choose for the woman you saw yesterday in the mirror. Again, like yesterday, we'll try to keep it simple."

In the shoe department of the selected shop, Marion ended up, after some trials and after some helpful discussion with the assistant, with a pair of bedroom slippers, a pair of trainer-like leisure shoes, a pair of slip-on shoes for day-to-day wear and a pair of fashion shoes with a 7 centimetre heel. This last proved to be the most difficult purchase, but also the most significant.

"I can't wear these," she said to Belle after trying on a pair of simple heeled court shoes. "My feet are going to fall out all the time. I'm just not used to wearing a shoe that fits this way. I think I need a style which either comes up over the arch or has a strap up there, to keep the shoe on. What do you think?"

"You're right, although it's a shame, because I think those look good on you. I understand your difficulty, though. I think the fact you have relatively large feet contributes to the problem. You might be able to wear styles like this once you've become comfortable with what we've bought today." Belle turned to the assistant. "What can you do for my friend that would involve a strap up closer to the ankle?"

"It's not going to be easy," that person replied, "because the range of styles tends to fall off at either end of the size chart. I'll go and see what we've got. Be seated, citizens."

She returned with three pairs of shoes, one of which was rejected immediately. Another was simply a heeled version of the slip-ons Marion had already chosen, so she tried on the last pair and was impressed. These were a polished black, but not patent, with a square heel, in a court style, but in addition there was a strap which started at the top of the instep and curled over the top of the foot to finish at the side of the heel on the outside of the foot. Marion looked down at her feet and had the strangest feeling.

"I like these," she said. She walked up and down to get a feel for them, and then stood and inspected herself in the full-length mirror. "I'll take them," she said, "and in fact, if it's permitted, I shall wear them out. Citizen?"

"Certainly, citizen. I'll put your old shoes in a bag. Is there anything more I can do for you? No? Then if you'll follow me to the payment desk, I can process your purchases."

Outside the store, Marion stopped and looked down at her feet again.

"It's very strange," she said, "for six months - seven, nearly - I've been wearing a bra. I've been wearing a dress. Had a nightdress to sleep in. Had my hair done like a woman. Looked at myself in the mirror and saw a woman looking back. None of it made me feel particularly feminine. Even the clothes we bought yesterday really didn't make that much difference. But today, when I put these shoes on, I felt a change. It's hard to describe. But seeing these on my feet made me feel as though I'd become a woman. They make me feel as though they're appropriate wear for my body, if you can understand what I mean. It's very difficult to describe my feelings."

Belle considered. "Some women have a special relationship with their shoes," she said finally. "I don't quite see the attraction myself, but I can understand how the right pair of shoes can make you feel so different. That's what's so important about female clothing in general, I think, and why there's so much of it. If you pick the right outfit, the right underpinnings, the right accessories, it can make a huge difference to how you feel. Most women spend a lot of their free time trying to find that elusive combination that makes them feel good."

"Seen from a male perspective, it all seems so shallow," Marion said, "but sitting on the fence I can see there's so much more going on here. Not that I understand much of it, yet. I just hope I can put what I've learned to good use in the future."

"It's teaching me things about women I hadn't realised, as well," admitted Belle. "And about the differences between men and women."

"What shall we shop for next, then?" asked Marion. "I think I have to find a replacement datapad and communicator. There's a store over there which might do, or the big one we went in yesterday if there's nothing suitable. What else might I want?"

"You mentioned hair. You've no brush or comb, or any of that sort of thing. You could probably use a dryer. You'll have to keep your hair short while you work in the facility, but that's not a huge restriction in style terms. I did wonder about a coat, but I think you can probably wait a month or two till the weather gets colder. An umbrella will do fine at the moment. You could probably do with a women's timepiece. Let's go and sort out your gadgets, and then we can just have a gentle browse. Tell me if those shoes start hurting, won't you? You've not worn heels before, and I'm sure your feet are going to object after an hour or two."

They found a store that 'upgraded' Marion's old gadgets into shiny new ones fit for a female to be seen in public with. A concession in the same store supplied her with a slender feminine timepiece with a matching bracelet to be worn on the other wrist. They then returned to the larger store they had visited the previous day and Belle found her an umbrella and some personal grooming kit. A stop for coffee followed, and then Belle led the way to the cosmetics counters.

"Do we have to do this today, Belle? This is a whole experience I could do without just at the moment."

"Not to worry," Belle replied. "I'm just going to scoop up some inexpensive basics, a selection we can experiment with in the comfort and privacy of your apartment. You won't have to sit out here getting painted up by the likes of these," and she waved her hand to indicate the attentive sales personnel, "who just want to sell you overpriced chemicals with dubious benefits."

"Glad to hear it," said Marion faintly.

Belle went ruthlessly through the area, picking up seeming random items from the different counters, together with a make-up box and a satin make-up bag for the essentials Marion might want to keep in her day bag. Marion's eyebrows rose when she saw how inexpensive the total was.

"Don't get too excited about the cost," Belle cautioned, "you have to remember that all of this is consumable. You're going to be replacing it on a regular basis as you use it up. Though because you'll be at work in the facility, where make-up's discouraged, it will last a while, I grant you."

Marion's feet finally decided that they had had enough of heels, and they found a seat where Marion could change back into her original shoes. She was beginning to tire, both physically and mentally, so they reluctantly decided that any further shopping would have to wait for another day. The two decided that they could return on the tram this time, the quantity of bags from today's expedition being less than yesterday's.

The return tram trip proved to be difficult. On their previous journeys the vehicles had been lightly loaded, but on this occasion they were full with day shift factory workers returning home. Marion and Belle did find seats, near the entrance, but this meant that everyone who boarded gave the pair the once-over as they passed, and Marion became disturbed by the level of scrutiny she received. Belle sensed her discomfort, and gently placed a hand on her knee.

"We're not going far," she said, softly, "and it's not personal, I assure you. Just relax, and breathe slowly and easily."

When they got off, Belle discovered that the ordeal had shaken Marion so much that her face was white.

"Ah, damn," she said, "it's one of those things that's always been there, so I don't notice it. I hadn't appreciated what it must be like for you. Come on, it's two blocks to walk, and then I'll make you a cup of tea and you can relax. No more outings for a while." Belle reached out a hand. "Give me some of your bags. Now, we're just two women coming home after an afternoon's shopping. Perfectly normal, no-one's going to be giving you any special consideration. So, let's go home."

Back in the apartment, the day's purchases were dumped on the dining table and Belle went to fill the kettle. By the time she came back, with a cup of tea in each hand, Marion was fast asleep on the sofa. Belle shook her head, putting the cups down on a side table.

"How could I have been so stupid?" she muttered. "It's been too much for her. I should never have made her go out today, at least not shopping. Especially after having to go into the facility this morning. A short walk would probably have been enough." She sat in one of the two armchairs and sipped her tea.

Some while later, Marion roused, her neck stiff from the angle at which she'd fallen asleep. She stretched, and turned to see Belle watching her from the chair.

"Ow!" She winced, and tried to work the kinks out of her neck. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About forty minutes, I'd guess," replied Belle. "I'm sorry, it was obviously too soon for you to go out again. I shouldn't have put you through that ordeal. Please accept my apologies, I should have been taking more care of you."

"I don't think you meant to do it unkindly, Belle," Marion said. "I might have just got frustrated cooped up in here if you hadn't. There were things we had to get, so the time spent was worthwhile, but I suppose I did attempt to do too much too soon."

"Yes, but our timing could have been better. We'll be more careful in the future."

"Is that tea I see you drinking?"

"It was, forty minutes ago. Do you want me to make you a fresh pot? Daft question, I'll get on it." Belle rose and took the cups back to the kitchen. "Is the level of attention women get really that much different to the attention men get?" she asked. "Having only a woman's viewpoint and experiences, it seems strange to me."

"Men in the main tend to ignore one another," Marion said, stretching. "Oh, we notice whether we're wearing work clothes, or are dressed up, that sort of thing, but we don't do detail inspections the way women seem to. Men tend to inspect women, of course, but even then it's not the way a woman would look at another woman. It's an overall effect thing. A man could spend an hour having lunch with a woman and be unable to describe afterwards what she was wearing at all. I bet you could tell me exactly what various women wore when you met them years ago."

"Oh, yes," said Belle from the kitchen, "partly that's because we're doing comparisons with what we were wearing, or what we would have liked to have worn at the time. It's a competition thing, but women don't compete the same way men do."

"I get that. What I'm finding difficult is being on the receiving end of all that scrutiny, when I was essentially anonymous before. I'm not sure I like being in the glare of a searchlight all the time."

Belle rinsed the cups and dried them while the kettle boiled.

"Perhaps you should think of it like this," she said as she brought out fresh drinks. "You're a plump, tasty fish swimming in the sea. There's a bigger fish whose attention is fixed on you because you're just right for her next meal. But your safety lies in the fact that you're not alone. You're swimming as part of an enormous shoal of similar fish. So, sure, there's a chance you might get gobbled up, but it's a very small chance, because there's so many of you."

"So what you're saying," said Marion slowly as she took the offered cup, "is that there's safety in numbers."

Belle nodded. "Exactly right, although I'm not sure I could have put it exactly like that. That's why women generally tend to be gregarious, I think. It's the best way for them to deal with their common, hmm, I shouldn't use the word 'enemy', I suppose, adversary might be a better choice."

"It's an important point I'll have to remember in my own behaviour in the future," Marion said. "Any time you get a bunch of women together, they start talking. Men don't open up so easily."

"I don't remember you having such a problem up on E Deck," remarked Belle.

"Ah, but to start with, they all thought I was a woman anyway, so they treated me as one of them. Once they found out what I really was, the relationships had already been made and it didn't matter any longer."

"Still, you must have something, because of the way you seem to be able to fix things. Don't underestimate your own abilities. I think you'll do better letting it come naturally rather than trying hard to be a woman."

"Didn't work out too well on the tram, did it?" said Marion. "Still," she brightened, "I did really like those shoes. Perhaps there's hope for me yet. I know," she said, putting down her cup, "I'm going to put them on again. The more I wear them, the sooner I can get used to wearing that sort of shoe with a heel." She go up, went to the bags on the table, and swapped her shoes for the heeled ones. "They feel instantly comfortable," she said, "they still need to get broken in, like any new shoe, but I'm glad we found these."

"Shoe victim," Belle said, with a grin.

"Oh, no, I'm not that empty-headed," Marion said, "At least I hope not. The only problem is the fact that my weight is thrown forward onto the balls of my feet. That hurts. I expect I'll adapt."

"It makes the shape of your legs better," Belle told her. "That's one of the reasons women wear heels, because it improves your legs."

Marion wandered off into the bedroom to look at herself in the mirror, returning after a few moments.

"I see what you mean. It changes my posture, and makes the clothes hang better, as well."

"Bingo! The girl gets it! Now you know why we do such things to ourselves."

Marion, now refreshed, put her purchases away while Belle started the evening meal. Marion sat at the kitchen table investigating the new features of her gadgets and making sure that they were up-to-date with her personal information, and that she knew how to use them properly. They had eaten their meal, and had piled the dishes into the sink, when the door chime went. Belle went to answer, wary that the supervisor had decided to call, and Marion heard an excited buzz of voices from the doorway.

"Visitors, Marion! Look who's dropped in!"

It was Elena, Kristina and Linda. Marion stared, since she had never seen any of them out of uniform until that moment.

"Hey! Look at you, girl! You're looking great! Give us a twirl, then!" said Kristina. Marion complied, with appreciative noises from her visitors.

"Did you leave anything in the shops for the rest of us?" asked Linda.

"You choose the outfits?" Elena asked Belle.

"We both did. She is shaping up nicely, isn't she? Tired her out, though. We'll have to take it easy for a bit now we've got the basics in. Find seats, all of you. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Sophia asked me to pass a message to Marion on my way home," explained Elena. "The girls decided that they'd accompany me since they wanted to know how she was getting on."

"We were just about to have after-meal drinks, so let me make some for everyone while you pass your message on," said Belle.

"Okay," replied Elena. She came towards Marion and took both of her hands in her own. "My dear, you're making this transition look easy," she said.

"It doesn't feel that way some times. I felt distinctly vulnerable this afternoon. Although you don't realise it, because you've been doing it all your lives, there's a lot of hard work involved in being a woman. Several times I've wondered if I made the right decision."

"Just being out of the can is hard enough," put in Belle from the kitchen, "I don't think I appreciated just how hard it is for a detainee once she's been released. With gender juggling on top of that, it's no wonder she's shattered." Linda walked into the kitchen to help Belle.

"Post-release procedure is perhaps something we ought to review," said Elena. "I'll mention it when I get in tomorrow. Meanwhile, Marion, what I have to talk to you about concerns tomorrow. Sophia heard you'd planned to come in for work. Is that right?"

"Yes, but how did you - oh, Khiskov. We dropped in this morning to make a report, and I mentioned I'd be working for Sophia."

Elena nodded. "Yes, I got a brief summary from her about your problem. I didn't quite understand it, care to elaborate?"

Marion grew cautious. "Not here, Elena. I'll tell you tomorrow. What did Sophia want, anyway?"

"If you're coming in, because of your odd position there's no formal induction procedure. So I've suggested that Belle can bring you in. When you come, she can take you to Site Security to get logged in, and from there directly to Stores to get your uniform. Then you can go with her to the locker room and she'll get you a locker assigned, and show you how to use it, after which she can take you up and leave you in Sophia's hands. I understand she's found an office you can use. We can manage without Belle until she gets to E Deck." Elena smiled. "It's been very quiet up there since you two left. Perhaps I ought to make Belle surplus to requirements." Belle pouted from the kitchen alcove, and the other two snickered. Elena led Marion over to the sofa, and indicated that they should sit.

"So," she said, changing the subject abruptly, "tell us about your shopping trips, then! What did you see, what did you buy? I need details, woman!"

The five women drank tea and discussed in fine detail Marion and Belle's visits to the shops, with all it's successes and problems. Marion discovered just how comforting a group of supportive women could be, and some of her anxieties from earlier that day seemed less threatening than they had at the time. She began to feel more positive about her future prospects.

The visitors had to leave, since Linda and Kristina had some distance to go, and they were all standing, still talking, when the door chime went again.

Belle looked at Marion, and then at Elena, but both looked back blankly. Belle went to the door to find the supervisor there. He invited himself into the apartment, which suddenly looked very crowded. Belle confronted the man.

"I told you what I'd do if you turned up here again," she said, forcefully.

"You're making a lot of noise," the man said, quickly. "I've had complaints."

This stopped Belle, since the five had indeed been making a fair amount of noise between them.

"It's not likely to happen again," she said, grudgingly. "My work colleagues are just leaving, in any case," she added, making sure the man got the point, "so out you go. You pissed off one Shepherd, you don't want to piss off four, I can assure you. Leave," she said, pointing to the door. The man backed away, unhappy at being out-bullied.

Elena raised an eyebrow as the man disappeared. "Is that what you went to Khiskov about?" she asked Marion quietly. "Who's he anyway?"

"He's the building supervisor," replied Marion. "He tried to browbeat me just after I took over the apartment. We also think he went through our things while we were out yesterday." Elena looked concerned. "Khiskov is looking after it, Elena. I know you want to help, but we have to go by the book with this one. Thank you for your concern, anyway."

Elena nodded. "We'll have a talk about it tomorrow if we get time. I don't like the idea of one of my girls being threatened." It was Marion's turn to raise an eyebrow. Elena chuckled, and put her hand on Marion's shoulder. "You've made us all broody, dear. We can be quite fierce when we're broody." She turned to the others. "Come on, girls, let's leave these two in peace."

Belle and Marion both got hugged by the other three, and then suddenly they had gone and it was quiet again. They washed up and put away all the meal and drink things, and then decided to retire for an early night, as the next day was going to be fairly full for Marion. She had taken off all her clothes, and had picked up her nightdress ready to put on, when Belle stopped her.

"Leave that off for a while," she said, at the same time grabbing the duvet with one hand and whisking it off the bed. She dumped it in a pile on the single bed. Marion looked a question.

"On the bed, dear, on your front."

Marion climbed onto the bed, and eased herself down, cautious about Belle's intentions.

"This is not a position I've ever been in before for intimacy," she said. "I'm not sure how far you'll get, I'm quite tired."

"Oh, silly," Belle put a reassuring hand on Marion's shoulder, "I just want to give you a quick rub to try and relax you. I realise it's too soon to get some action together," she added, with the strong implication that future 'action' was definitely in her plans, "but I've been running you a bit hard the last couple of days and I want to give something back. Now, raise your arms and put your hands together, and then you can rest your head on them. Comfortable?"

Marion shiggled on the mattress to make her breasts more comfortable under her, and then rested her head on her hands.

Belle continued, "It's been a number of years since I've done this, so squeal out if I get too rough for you. I haven't any suitable oils, so I'll have to use moisturiser. Ready?"

Belle poured a pool of moisturiser on Marion's back and then started to work it in, kneading the muscles as she did so. She found that her previous experience soon came back, and she worked away at arms, shoulders, neck, back, buttocks and legs. After a time she became warm from the effort and stopped to wipe sweat from her face.

"There! Does that feel better?" she asked, but there was no reply, because Marion had fallen asleep under the treatment.

"Poor thing," she said, softly. "I guess the last few days have been rough on you." She looked down at the figure lying in front of her. It was almost, but not quite, female. The shoulders were a little wide, and sloped differently. The waist was okay, but the hips, while satisfyingly wide, were again not quite right, since the male bone structure underneath them didn't support the muscle and fat quite the same. Good enough, she thought. Within the usual range of female sizes, and practically unnoticeable under clothing. She looked at the testicles poking out from between the slightly spread legs, and wondered what might have been and what might be.

When she had first met Marlon, she had, like the other Shepherds, assumed that whatever mistake had got him sent to them would be rectified in short order and that he would be released. She had considered following him up at that point, and the others were aware of her mild interest in him even then. But he hadn't been released, and they had all slipped into the normal routine, and they had adjusted, even as Marlon had, to his changing shape without consciously realising what was happening and why.

When he had finally realised the truth, the four Shepherds had immediately leapt to his defence. Belle had come to realise that she cared for him, and even though he was likely to become a 'pseudo-woman', she understood that the person inside was the same, and was vulnerable as never before, and needed her care and support. So she had put her case to Elena, and Elena had seen no problem with it.

Now she didn't know whether she would be getting a man, or a woman, or something else. She would have quite liked a husband, even though that term was officially taboo. She'd dabbled with girlfriends in her teens, so a female partner would not upset her either. Children might be nice, in the future, but that depended on a number of things she couldn't control. Only time would tell.

She spread the duvet over the sleeping Marion, switched off the light, and climbed into the bed beside her. Marion shifted in her sleep, her arms came out, and Belle folded her own around her.

Marion starts her new job in the facility and makes a big impression, although not quite the one she intended.

---

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.

The following morning they got up in good time. Belle explained that they needn't rush, since no-one would be expected at their desks before nine, and they didn't have far to travel. Marion couldn't have an on-site breakfast, because she wasn't officially a staff member yet, so they made their own and got themselves ready to depart with time to spare.

As on the previous day, a member of the security staff took them up to Site Security, and an administrative assistant took Marion's card in order to start the employment process. The puzzled woman discovered that Marion's details were already on file, and was alarmed when she discovered why. Khiskov was called, and smoothed things over, but the woman was upset because the usual procedures had not been followed, and it was important 'because it's security'. It took a call to Sophia to get Marion's accreditation confirmed.

At least they didn't have any problems when they got to Stores, since the stores keeper knew what was going on and why. Marion got her staff disc, which Belle clicked around her neck, and she got a dress in brown with white cuffs to the sleeves. Above the left breast a name plate had been sealed, with 'Marion' in large letters, and underneath in slightly smaller type 'Counsellor'. With Marion carrying her outside clothes over her arms, they left Stores and headed for the open area at the front of the building.

"We came out of Stores through the public entrance, if you understand me," Belle commented. "It's one of the few places we can cross the fence without being challenged."

"The 'fence'?" asked Marion.

"Yes, it's not a real fence. It's used to describe the area inside of which you can only move about with the aid of your disc. Outside you can do most things with either your disc or your card, but you can't use your card to get through any gates inside. In fact, normally you can't get inside if you're carrying your card. I'll explain why that is when we get to the locker room."

Belle led the way to one of the two locker rooms, the one usually used by the E Deck Shepherds. She walked between rows of lockers until she reached her own.

"Here," Belle said, "this is my one." She pushed her ID card completely into a slot on the front, and opened the door. "If you don't mind waiting a few seconds while I get changed." She did this with practised ease, putting on the familiar light grey shirt and trousers, and exchanging her outside shoes for lightweight ones with touch-and-close fastenings. She loaded various items from the shelf into her trouser pockets. When she had finished, she closed the door and pointed to the lock mechanism on the front.

"The locker, my card, and my disc all work together. The door only opens when both the disc and the card are in the lock, and I can only take out either the card or the disc when the door is closed. When my card is in the lock, I'm officially at work, and when I take out the disc, I'm officially on duty. Like so," she added, and pulled down a transparent flap to remove her disc, which she clicked around her neck.

"Now, to take the disc off, I pull out this little thing here," she pulled out from the bottom of the lock mechanism what looked like a black plastic disc connected to a retractable cord. "Place this thing under your disc like so," she demonstrated, "and it should come open." There was a click and a pin fixed to one end of the braid came free from the disc, enabling her to remove it. "It checks that your disc matches the card in the slot, so you can only remove your disc at your own locker. Put the disc in the little pocket and close it, and you can then either open the locker or take out your card. With me so far?"

"I think so," said Marion. "I can't see how to get it wrong, so I should be all right, especially if you're around the first few times."

"As you saw me do the other day, it is possible to walk out of here with just your disc, but obviously you can't do much without your card. There have been the odd occasions when forgetful staff have got as far as getting on a tram before they've realised. It can get embarrassing. Fortunately, those of us with uniforms have an incentive to change before we leave, so it's not usually a problem." She tapped a square door above the locker. "This cupboard is also mine, it will unlock when the owner approaches while wearing the disc, or when the disc and the card are both in the lock. The idea behind this is that certain staff may need to get items during the day, for example we have diabetics among the admin staff. A lot of us usually keep our bags in there, one or two people bring in lunch. And on top of the unit is where any laundry of yours gets placed when it's done."

"Sounds good," said Marion, "but how do I get a locker for my things?"

"Easy," replied Belle. "Just look for an empty one. A locker with either a disc or a card in it, or both, is in use. Just look for one which has neither. When you put your card in it, you'll claim it as yours. Now I happen to know -" she moved along the row, "- yes, this one's free. Got your card?"

Marion inserted her card, and an indicator winked briefly. Belle took the clothes from Marion, and Marion pulled the release tag out from under the lock and clicked open her disc braid. She placed the disc with it's attached braid in the pull-down pocket and closed it, and the indicator winked again. She tried the door, and it opened.

"See? Easy!"

Marion arranged her clothes in the locker, closed it, and reclaimed her disc. Belle took her out of the room and showed her the staff canteen which was sandwiched between the two locker rooms on the ground floor.

"Breakfasts and dinners can be eaten here," she said, " and admin staff - which may include you, I suppose - can also eat lunch here. All food is free, and there's quite a good choice. Shepherds have to eat their lunch on the Decks, which means we have to order a tray like the detainees do. Ready to go upstairs now?"

"Yes, please."

They walked over to a nearby lift, getting a stare from a nearby Shepherd as they passed through the fence.

"I have the most tremendous urge," Marion said as the doors opened, "to hold out my hands for you to cuff me. I feel almost naked to be walking around here without."

Belle looked at her fondly as they entered the lift. "I wouldn't do that to you, love. Firstly, you're now a member of staff, and secondly, you purport to be a trusty, neither of which would be wearing cuffs."

"You can cuff me any time," Marion said, softly.

Belle's eyes glistened. "What a wonderful person you are," she said, "to show such trust. I just hope I can live up to your expectations."

The door opened before either of them could say anything else, and they exited onto D Deck, which was where Sick Bay was. Belle nodded.

"That's a good thing, though," she commented.

"What is?"

"Look at it this way, six months ago you would never have thought of asking me to do that. It shows that you can adapt, you can learn new habits. It means you ought to have an easy transition. Here we are, shall I see you later today?"

"I don't know. Probably."

"If not, I'll come and find you down here at the end of our shifts. That okay?"

"Yes, of course."

Belle headed for the stairs, and E Deck, and Marion entered Sick Bay and headed for Sophia's office.

"Service, Sophia."

"Oh, service, Marion. Take a seat while I sort this out."

Sophia hammered away at the keyboard for a minute or two before she looked up, scowling.

"This job is ridiculous. I'm glad I'm not running a hospital. No wonder Pannal went crazy."

"I shouldn't pass comments like this, Sophia, but I think Pannal's problems went farther than just too much form filling."

"I don't doubt you're right. Now, I've found you somewhere to make a base, if you'll come with me." Sophia stood, and ignoring her communicator's insistent call, led Marion out of her office and through Sick Bay.

"I have a spare consulting suite, which is this one," she said. It was a small office with an attached treatment room with the inevitable powered chair with straps. "I can't imagine you'll be using the treatment chair, but it's there if you want it." She waved Marion to the chair behind the desk, and sat down herself in one of the two in front of it. "If nobody's done it so far, welcome to the madhouse that is Female Offender Containment Facility Five. I have no idea what to do with you, I've been far too busy since we last saw each other. How have you been doing?"

"It's been very tiring," Marion replied. "Belle dragged me round shops both days, so I've got a basic wardrobe and I'm not unhappy with that. But it's been a bit overwhelming, and to tell the truth I'm glad to get back inside for a rest."

Sophia ran a hand through her hair. "I don't know what should happen to you in terms of induction procedures, but if you want to take it easy for a few days that's fine with me. Any idea how you're going to manage your job?"

"Not really. It's going to be a case of try something and see what works, I think. With your permission, I think I want to use E Deck as a sounding board. I know all the Shepherds and all the detainees, so they'll tell me what works and what doesn't."

Sophia waved her hand. "Go ahead. I would caution you that most of the other Decks aren't as calm and collected as E Deck, so don't assume that what works up there will work anywhere else. There's one place I might suggest you try next, and that's D Deck, just along the corridor and left at the end, underneath where you were. That's the Sick Bay ward, where we keep the detainees who have broken limbs or a disease or some other medical problem. The set-up's similar to E Deck, but obviously the patients don't move around quite as much as the E Deck crowd can."

"One other thing I thought of," said Marion, "is that I might accompany you on your rounds, at least to start with. That way I get an idea of what the different Decks are like and you can introduce me as we go, so that when I subsequently appear, people know why I'm there."

Sophia nodded. "That's a good idea. I don't - obviously - get much opportunity to do rounds now, but you can go out with one of the other doctors here instead if I'm not available."

"That's fine by me," said Marion.

"Now, your desk terminal should be set up for you to use, I called Facility Services yesterday to have it done, but I don't know if they needed your paperwork first before they'd do anything. Because it's a Sick Bay terminal, and because you're one of my staff, it means that you can access the records of everyone, and I do mean everyone in the facility, staff as well as detainees. We're responsible for looking after both up here in Sick Bay, around a thousand in all. Because most of the staff work long or unsocial hours, they tend to use us instead of their local doctors, and the system is set up to permit that. That means two things that you'll have to take note of. The first is that you'll be able to access medically privileged information, and you'll have to remember to keep it that way. You presumably took an oath when you were signed on by Site Security?"

"Yes, I did."

"Which one? It makes a difference. The medical staff have a slightly different set of regulations and ethics from the detention staff, who have a different set from other staff, and so on."

"They got confused by me, because I didn't fit into any of their pigeon holes. In the end, because I would be working for you, they gave me the medical one," replied Marion.

"Oh, good, that solves a lot of problems. But you do understand the issues involved?"

"Yes, Director. I know when to keep my mouth shut, and if I get any problems I'll ask someone first. Will I be allowed to add my own notes to the files, if I need to?"

"I don't see why not. You'll be careful, won't you?"

"I'll probably ask someone to hold my hand for the first couple of weeks," said Marion.

"The other thing that I realised when I got Facility Services to add you in," Sophia continued, "is that of course you may have to talk to members of staff as well as detainees. Are you prepared for that, if it happens?"

"The thought had crossed my mind, but that was all. I, like you, have had other things on my mind the last couple of days."

"Good. I'll let you settle in, then. Have you ordered lunch yet? Of course not, you haven't had access to a terminal. Tell you what, I'll collect you at lunchtime and we'll go and eat together in the canteen. We can have a chance to talk, and it will get me away from that damned communicator. Okay?"

"Yes, Director."

Sophia left, and Marion got up and wandered round her new domain. She opened all the drawers and cupboards, discovering odd things like a leftover box of surgical gloves and a box of specimen jars, but little else. When she sat down at the terminal and powered it on it recognised her, so she began to investigate the facilities available to her, discovering that there was a great deal more she could do than even Talya had been able to discover upstairs. There were a number of messages in her inbox, and she was still figuring out what to do with some of them when Sophia reappeared at lunchtime.

"Oh, yes, you get a lot of this junk to start with. You acknowledge that one, and that one, and send them back to where they came from. That's a copy of your contract, move it to your personal file. Those others you can ignore for the time being. Fancy lunch?"

"Yes, please. I'm not sure how I'm going to manage the admin. I'm more of a doer than a keyboard jockey."

"Join the club!"

The two women took the lift back down to the ground floor. Sophia was interested in Marion's activities during the last two days. They were talking and walking towards one of the sets of gates that separated 'inside' from 'outside' when a loud voice stopped them.

"Just where do you think you're going, citizen?"

A fit young woman wearing a uniform similar to a Shepherd's but with black cuffs to her sleeves put out a hand to stop Marion. The woman looked enquiringly at Sophia.

"Your pardon, Citizen, but you know the rules. Trusties aren't allowed through the fence."

"This person is a member of my staff," Sophia replied, "she's not a trusty, even though she's dressed like one. I'm Facility Medical Director Caparelli."

The woman looked askance at Marion. "This is... unusual. I'll need to verify both your identities. Please step over to the scanner."

Sophia and Marion both did so, and the machine confirmed who they were.

"I'm sorry, Director, I didn't realise. Is this some new arrangement, then?"

"Yes, it is. Marion here needs to talk to the detainees, and it was felt that it would be better if she wasn't dressed like a Shepherd. Sorry to have caused confusion."

"I guess it's not going to be the last time it'll happen. Just doing my job." The woman waved her hand to permit them through the gate.

"This could get awkward," Sophia commented as they entered the canteen. "Perhaps your choice of outfit wasn't such a good idea."

"This was the Controller's idea, not mine," Marion said. "I've not seen that uniform before today. Black cuffs?"

"Site Security. Like the name implies, they look after the overall building security whereas Shepherds manage Deck discipline. They're technically Shepherds, but of course there are turf wars. There's a file somewhere which shows all the different colour and clothing combinations we use in the facility which should explain all this. I suppose you'll have to get added to it eventually."

There were a number of double-takes from staff already eating in the canteen, and the women serving behind the counter gave Marion searching stares. The stares continued after they sat down.

"This could get tricky," Marion commented, as she inspected the 'healthy' lunch she had picked. "What really matters is what I look like inside the fence, though, so we may have to work something out. Maybe a grey jacket I keep in my office." Of course, with only women in the building, lunches were always going to be tailored to their dietary requirements. Marion thought, without much enthusiasm, that she might eventually get used to female ideas of food. She took care to eat slowly, and tried to avoid the looks that kept coming her way from other diners. When they got up to return their trays and leave, it was almost possible to hear a collective sigh of relief run round the room.

A different Site Security Shepherd was waiting at the gate in the fence when they approached, and she looked positively tense when the gate clicked open for Marion. She didn't say anything, but Sophia and Marion could both practically see the wheels turning. They both spent the lift journey thinking of ways to improve the situation. Sophia got out at Sick Bay, and Marion carried on to E Deck.

Not being sure of the protocol, she waited outside the gate until someone noticed her on the watch station monitors. An arm was waved, and she pulled the gate open, the first time that she had been able to do that on her own since she had originally entered the facility. She walked down the corridor to the watch station.

"That's a bit different," Linda remarked, indicating the brown dress. "Is that what they decided to put you in?"

"This is the Controller's idea," replied Marion. "It seemed reasonable when she first suggested it, but just now we nearly had a riot when Sophia took me to the canteen."

The expression on the four womens' faces was interesting, as they realised the effect that the presence of a trusty outside the fence would have.

"Not a good idea," said Kristina. "Is there anything you can do?"

Marion sighed. "I'm adding it to my list of things to worry about."

"It should be easier once everyone knows what the colour combination means," said Elena. "But I bet Site Security has a fit every time they see you."

"Yes. I'm trying to solve problems, not create them," said Marion.

Elena instructed Marion, "When you come to a gate, just walk through it, you don't have to have someone let you in. That only happens if you're with someone who isn't allowed through the gate on their own. Which, now I come to think if it, is how you would have seen gates operated in the past, being a detainee. You wouldn't have realised a Shepherd could just go through if she was by herself."

"Thanks, Elena. I can see I'm going to have an exciting week or two finding out how things work. Do you mind if I go and chat to the girls?" Marion indicated the lounge.

"Go right ahead. It will be interesting to see what they think of your outfit."

Marion walked through the gate and entered the far lounge, where ten women were jammed in having a discussion. The talk stopped abruptly as she appeared.

"Marlon? You back inside? Belle told us, but we couldn't quite work out what's going on. Did you not get freed after you left us, then?" asked Martha. She came forward and gave Marion a hug, followed by several of the others. It seemed Martha was the unofficial leader of the E Deck detainees now.

"Yes, I did get freed," Marion replied, "and I legally go by the name Marion now. I'm back here working, doing much the same as before I left you."

"But why are you dressed like that, then? From what Belle said, I thought you had become one of them instead of being one of us."

"I hope I'm not seen as one of them or one of us," Marion said. "I don't want to be seen as a Shepherd, because that's going to throw up a barrier to anyone who wants to speak to me. The Controller suggested I wear something like this."

"Can you come and go as you like?" one of the other women asked.

"Yes, I can," Marion said. "I am in fact an employee here now, and Sophia is my boss, so that effectively makes me one of the medical staff, but not a Shepherd. As far as I am aware, I have the run of the facility. Oh, and if you hadn't heard, I've got one of those transitional apartments up the road, so I live quite near at the moment."

"So what's your job, then?" Martha asked.

"We're making it up as we go along. Nobody quite knows what I'll be able to do or how things will work out, so we can experiment a little to find out what works best. Sounds like this uniform isn't one of those things. The general idea is to do much as I did while I was up here before, only I'm supposed to be covering the whole building." Marion shrugged. "Can't see me doing that on my own, somehow. But if I can get the general principles laid down, we can find other people who might be able to help."

"That's an excellent idea. We were wondering what might happen once you'd left E Deck. You certainly pulled us all together," Martha said.

"Is this an official visit, then?" asked Deyna.

"Yes and no," Marion replied. "I'm just up here to say hello, and to let you know I'll be around. If anyone wants to talk, I'm here. If you want to talk privately, I'm sure the Shepherds can find us somewhere to hold a personal conversation. I expect you'll eventually be able to get hold of me the same way you can get hold of anyone in Sick Bay or Stores, but I don't know if they've got that set up yet. On the other hand, sometimes I think I'll just come up here for a good old-fashioned chin-wag. I am not about to desert my friends."

"You'd do that?" someone asked, "isn't that against the rules?"

"I don't see why it should be. I must emphasise, I'm not a Shepherd. They have to treat you a certain way, and you have to behave a certain way, because that's the only way to keep order inside such a place as this, even if some of you don't like the idea." Several of the women nodded agreement. "That's fair enough, but it would hamper what I intend to achieve. Don't you agree? So, unless someone in authority objects to what I want to do, I plan to make up my own set of rules, and they are going to include spending some time with people I respect whose words I've learned to value. You lot."

"She's at it again," said Martha. "With a pitch like that, how can we fail to agree?"

"Flatterer. I expect I will also, on occasion, tell you about people on other Decks who have told me things, carefully anonymised, of course, and ask you for opinions. You're never short of opinions, let's face it! I will freely admit that there is much I don't know about the new female world I now live in, so I will expect serious and unbiased help, if you're prepared to give it."

"Feel free," said Martha. "You do realise that what you're proposing is to feed us juicy gossip from the other Decks? You know how to bait the hook, don't you, dear."

"Yes, perhaps I should have rephrased that slightly." Marion smiled. "But you will help, won't you? You'll be much more involved in this little project than any of the other Decks, so E Deck will always be my base. I'm relying on you all to keep me grounded. Now, there are some things I need to ask the group about. How many of you have spent time on the other Decks? I need to have some idea of what I'm likely to face, so I can figure out how to handle them."

About a third of those present had been transferred from other Decks during their current detention, a third had had experience during previous detentions, and the rest were newcomers who, like Marion, had never known anything else other than E Deck because of their circumstances. Marion became more unhappy as the experienced among them contributed their memories of life in the jungle. One thing became clear, that every Deck had it's own culture and had to be approached in a different way depending on what particular women were detained, and how the Shepherds controlled the situation. Marion became ever more thankful that she had ended up here instead of a male facility, which would have been even rougher, a thought which caused her some wry amusement when she recognised it.

Several of those present offered to collect experiences from those who for various reasons hadn't been in the meeting. With the afternoon passing, Marion took her leave and walked along to Talya's room, because she wanted to enlist her support also. When she arrived, Talya's door was open.

"Service, Talya."

"Service... Marlon? Marion? What should I call you now? What are you doing in that get-up? Shouldn't you have been released by now?"

Marion outlined her current circumstances and why she was dressed like that, and explained the problems that had caused so far.

"I don't know," Talya said after a while. "I'm no more familiar with the insides of this institution than you were, so I can't say I understand the problem that well. But I agree, it seemed a good idea at the time, but it's not going to work. Have you had any ideas?"

"No. The only thing I'm sure of, is I don't want to look like a Shepherd."

"You tell me all the staff wear grey, and they all wear shirt and trousers, and all the detainees wear dresses in various colours, but never grey. I think the dress is key. As you say, you have to be able to talk to people without any barriers, and the dress will show you're not part of the forces that keep people in here, so to speak. But how about a grey dress? That will show you're a member of staff, and should give you enough authority to show you're not to be messed with. I've been hearing lurid stories of what gets done on some of the other Decks."

"You're right," said Marion, "the girls have been telling me things about their experiences elsewhere. It's bad, perhaps, but not as bad as some of the rumours would have you believe. Your suggestion about dress colour has merit. If I'm dressed in grey, and there is trouble, the Shepherds would be able to identify me and haul me out. It would make my movements around outside the fence a non-issue as well. It would also be more honest, which is a thing which has concerned me about this," she fingered her brown dress, "I don't want to appear to be something I'm not."

Talya nodded, but questioned, "Can you change something like that? I thought everything in here was controlled fairly tightly."

"I'm in an interesting situation, since this is a new post. The rules covering what I can do and where I can go, and so on, haven't been written yet. I expect I've already broken a whole pile of regulations, but nobody's said anything yet, so I'm keeping quiet and just getting on with it."

"I envy you," sighed Talya, "to be able to do just what you want to."

"I'm not sure want is the appropriate word," replied Marion, "it's more a question of need. Speaking of which, I think I might need you. I told you how I intend to use the E Deck girls as a focus group, well, I want to make use of you as well. It's early days yet, of course, but I think I might need the sort of help you can provide. Can I ask you, how long have you been here, and how much longer have you to go?"

"Four years," said Talya, "and I've got about two years to go, with nearly a year before I can be considered for parole. Why, what did you have in mind?"

"My problem is, before I came here, I was just a simple machine minder in a factory. Oh," she added, waving a dismissive hand, "I know there's more to it than that, but the point is that I'm beginning to think the admin side will be fairly heavy going. I wondered whether I could co-opt you. Get you made a trusty, in fact. If I can do that, would you be prepared to help me? It would mean working down in Sick Bay. There's probably not going to be a lot to do at the start, but it'll take time to get ourselves organised. What do you say?"

"Me? A trusty?" Talya looked apprehensive. "I'm not sure."

"I don't even know how they determine who to make a trusty in this place," said Marion. "You can make that your first investigation. If I can swing it, you'd be in my office downstairs, so you'd probably see less people than you do up here, if that's what's worrying you. You'd also have to seriously earn your status, since the terminal I have in my office is an unrestricted medical one."

"Wow. You know how to swing a carrot in front of someone."

"Funny, that. The girls down in the lounge said much the same thing. Interested?"

"You bet. I understand that it's mostly going to be admin work, but that's okay. I owe you anyway for digging me out of the hole I'd got myself into, so if you can find me something useful to do in this place, then I'm in."

"Hmm. Don't get your hopes up too high just yet. Find out if there's a way for me to get you down to Sick Bay to start with."

"I'll do that." Talya's face fell as Marion stood up. "You're leaving? I wanted to hear about your shopping trips."

"You lot certainly have one track minds, don't you?" Marion laughed. "I'll come back tomorrow and tell you, I promise. I want to get down to Stores before the end of the shift to see if they can make me a grey dress."

Marion left Talya's room and departed E Deck, telling Belle in passing that they would meet in the canteen at shift changeover time. She made her way back down to the Stores counter.

"Service, citizen."

"Service, Marion."

"It occurs to me that I don't know your name, even though we've talked a number of times. Would it be against regulations to ask?"

"No, not at all. I'm Miranda Hardacre. What can I do for you? Is it the dress?"

"Yes, it certainly is. I wore it to the canteen at lunchtime and there was nearly trouble. Site Security seem to be having difficulty with it as well."

"I know, I was in the canteen when you came in. I was the one gave it to you, but seeing you come through that door nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry. I don't think anyone could have predicted the general reaction I got. It looks like this is a non-starter."

"What do you want me to give you instead?" Miranda asked. "You did say you didn't want to look like a Shepherd, but I don't see how we can achieve that if you're not in a dress."

"We talked about this upstairs," Marion replied, "and someone suggested a dress the same as this one, but in the same material and colour you make the Shepherd uniforms out of. Is that possible?"

Miranda pursed her lips. "I'd have to make a special program to do it," she said, "but I suppose it's possible. I'd have to register it as a new uniform type and..."

Her voice trailed away as she considered how she would have to feed in a new pattern to the computer-controlled machine that made the specialised seamless clothing which was worn within the facility. Her head came up. "You still want to have the white cuffs?" she asked.

"How difficult would that be to do?" asked Marion. "I'd like it if it's possible. Once my dress becomes seen around the facility, other people might want one. I know the Shepherds won't be able to wear them, but there are admin and other ancillary staff who might. What do you think?"

Miranda looked at her sharply. "You're making a lot of assumptions, here, for someone who's been in the job a single day. But you could be right. I was thinking about it myself when I made you that one. Okay, white cuffs it is. It'll take me some time to set it up, so you'll have to wait till morning. Exact same pattern as the one you're wearing?"

"Yes, please. Oh, there is one thing, I think I'm going to need a datapad. I've spent the afternoon talking to a whole lot of people and I desperately needed to take notes. Have you got such things in here?"

"This is Stores you're talking to, you know," said Miranda proudly. "Of course I can issue you with a datapad. You understand that the ones we issue are specialised, and can only be used inside the facility?"

"I wouldn't want it any other way," said Marion. "But my point is that if you issue me with a datapad, my dress will need a pocket to put it in."

"Of course. And, of course, detainees dresses don't have pockets. Where would you want it? Central pouch, like a kangaroo? On your hip, perhaps?"

"Don't care. Just so long as it doesn't dig into me when I sit down."

"Done. The dress and the datapad should be ready for you in the morning."

Marion decided that the best thing to do would be to go and change, while it was still quiet, and then go into the canteen and maybe have a coffee till Belle arrived. Getting out through the fence without an escort proved a struggle, but she finally persuaded the Site Security Shepherd to let her through, and she thankfully slunk off to the locker room to change.

Another problem then presented itself, since she had forgotten what her locker number was. She was just contemplating testing every single locker in the room to see which one released her disc when another Shepherd came in.

"Can you help me, Shepherd? I've forgotten which locker is mine. I only started the job today."

"How did you get in here?" the Shepherd asked Marion in tones which suggested she thought Marion had escaped from a Deck. "What's your normal duty?" The woman pulled a short metallic stick out from a trousers pocket and aimed it at Marion.

"I'm staff, I really am. Look, here's my staff disc." Marion held up her disc for the woman to see, and the woman lowered her stick, but didn't put it away.

"Why are you dressed like that, then? Oh, your tag says 'Counsellor'. What's that supposed to be, then?"

"It's something new the Controller's trying out. I go round and talk to the detainees. I didn't want to look like a Shepherd."

"Huh." The woman's tone indicated that she thought the idea was hare-brained. "Oh, very well, it happens to a lot of newcomers. See that panel beside the entrance? If you go and stand by that it'll tell you your locker number, amongst other things. If you come in from outside, there's a slot for your card at the side."

"Service, Shepherd."

"In fact, I'll come with you just to confirm you're not making it all up." She gently pushed Marion over to the panel and it promptly lit up with Marion's name, position, usual work location and locker number. "Huh, you're telling the truth. Sorry, Counsellor, just doing my job."

"Not a problem, Shepherd. This outfit isn't going to work, so I'll be getting a different one tomorrow. Thank you for your trouble."

The woman wandered off, shaking her head. Marion followed her, repeating her locker number to try and memorise it. Changing back into her outside things went smoothly, and she exited the locker room and walked into the canteen, ordering a coffee from the counter. Not to her surprise, no-one took the slightest notice of her in her outdoor clothes. She was, however, surprised to find quite a few people in the canteen, and realised that most of them were probably the evening shift grabbing a meal or a drink before they started work. She took a table and sat down to consider the day's events.

Her surmise about the others in the canteen proved correct when most stood up and left in a group, talking and laughing together. Only four people were left beside herself as she toyed with her drink. Going shopping had been bad enough, but she had been familiar enough with the general situation to cope even if the feminine specifics had needed to be learnt. The facility, on the other hand, was a specialised institution and very little in her six month stay there had prepared her for her new job. She wondered yet again if she was out of her depth, and sipped her coffee moodily. She was still contemplating the task she had taken on when Belle arrived and sat down next to her.

"Daydreaming, dear?"

"Oh, service, Belle. No, I'm wondering if I've bitten off more than I can chew."

"Surely not, you seemed supremely confident to me when you came up to our Deck. What's up?"

"I think I'm like the proverbial swan, all graceful on top and paddling frantically underneath. I thought, like Elena thought, that I was good at talking to people, so that's what my job would be. Since I've come back here to work, the whole thing has got blown up out of all proportion. Why can't anything ever be simple?"

"That's just a fact of life, these days. Remember, also, you've just come from an environment where practically everything was done for you, as you reminded me the other day. You're having to use your brain now, and it'll take some time to get into your stride. I wouldn't be too worried about it. Most new jobs are the same, you feel lost and confused the first week or so, then everything clicks and it becomes smooth. You'll see."

"I hope you're right," Marion said doubtfully.

"Give it time, dear. Now, do you want to eat here, or go home. If you eat here, it'll save you the effort of cooking and washing up. On the other hand, you might not like the choices here."

"Let's try the local fare, then. It'll let me see what sort of meals are available, if ever I have to do it again. Let's get in the queue," she added, as the canteen began filling with day staff who had just finished their shifts as Belle had. She said as they stood, "I wouldn't be averse to the odd meal out, if you're interested. Home cooking's fine, but sometimes you want to eat something you'd never be able to make at home."

The food offered could be described as 'acceptable institutional cuisine', and there was a reasonable choice offered. They both chose substantial meals and ate them slowly, talking about a range of subjects as they did so. Finally, they finished and wandered back to Marion's apartment for the night.

"This is the last night I can stay," said Belle as she closed the entry door behind them. "I'm running out of underwear, so I'll have to go back to my apartment after work tomorrow. If you don't want to stay here on your own, you're welcome to come home with me and stay a couple of days."

"I don't know," Marion said as she filled the kettle. "It may be a little too soon. Uh, I don't mean, it's too soon to stay with you, I mean it may be too soon for me to try something else just yet. I've had a lot happen to me in the last week or so."

Belle nodded. "I understand. But the offer's always open."

Marion put the kettle on its stand and switched it on. "Belle," she asked, serious, "Would you like me to move in with you?"

Belle looked up, her expression difficult to read. "I would like nothing better," she said. "I don't think it's a good idea at the moment, though. As you said, there's a lot going on at the moment, and the last thing you want is extra relationship pressure. I'm content to let things develop at their own pace, if that's all right with you."

"I understand, and I think I agree. I think I ought to stay here until I've at least got the job running smoothly, or until I'm found out and they kick me out. After that point I think I'll have had enough of this place and want to move on." Marion looked at Belle. "Perhaps we'll know better by then where we stand. I'll certainly take you up on a visit before then, though, once the outside world stops being big and loud and whizzy."

After a drink, with the evening free, Belle took Marion into the bedroom and sat her on the chair in front of the dressing table. She got out the bag of cosmetics and personal care items and shook them out onto the table.

"I think it's time we had a look at your face," she said. "There's a little tidying up I can do before we get to the powders and paints." Belle fetched a chair from the dining area and sat on it in front of Marion, then picked a pair of tweezers from the pile of objects on the table.

"This shouldn't hurt," she said. "After you've done it a few times, you won't even notice. I'll do it for you the first time, though, because it's tricky doing it both sides until you get the knack."

She set to work on Marion's eyebrows, plucking from underneath and making the edges more defined. Marlon had never been particularly hairy, but Marion's eyebrows were a little on the heavy side for a female, so Belle reduced them a little and gave them a suitably feminine shape.

"There, that didn't take long, did it?"

Marion's eyebrows were still smarting from the onslaught, but she was impressed by the difference Belle had made to her appearance.

"Now, you start by cleaning your face with some of this," Belle instructed. "Don't ever let soap get near it again. You may find this stuff makes your face dry, or oily, or you might get a reaction, so tell me if that happens and we'll look for something else more suitable. You do it like this," and Belle demonstrated the sweeping motions with a tissue. She then instructed Marion in the use of moisturiser, foundation when required, blusher, powder, eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, lip liner and finally lipstick, demonstrating some of the stages on her own face. When she had finished Marion looked at a totally different woman in the mirror.

"I look... like someone else," said Marion finally. "I don't know that I'd want to go this far every time, just to end up looking like a different person." But the person who spoke in the mirror was very definitely and undeniably female, and Marion wondered if she'd end up hiding herself this way to cover her own perceived lack of confidence.

"Not to worry, dear, that's just a sample makeover," said Belle. "Normally, you'd just do a little to your eyes, and perhaps a bit of lipstick in the evening if you're going somewhere. I've shown you most of what can be done to your face, it doesn't mean you have to do all of that all the time." She added, "although, I have to say, I do know women who wouldn't be seen dead without all that on. Now, I think you ought to leave your face like that for a while to get used to the feel, and you can have a go at cleaning it off later when we go to bed."

Marion felt self-concious for the next hour, walking about with her face painted. She decided that she would adapt to cosmetics in stages as circumstances merited. When they retired, Belle showed her how to get it all off without getting it everywhere, and Marion felt a little exposed by the time she got into bed.

"I quite appreciated the massage you gave me last night," Marion said, as they turned out the light, "I'm sorry I fell asleep halfway through, I was just so tired. Would you mind doing some more some time?"

Belle grinned in the darkness. "Of course, if it means I can get my hands on you. But, you must understand, there might be inevitable developments if I massage anything but your back."

"Oh, I'd figured that out," replied Marion, her hands searching for Belle under the quilt, "Maybe not tonight, I'm still tired, but I'm beginning to feel... interested, shall we say."

"Whenever you're ready, dear," Belle murmured, "Whenever you're ready."

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

---

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.

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.

---

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.

Site Security begins to uncover Supervisor Hirsch's schemes, but the proposed action means that Marion must leave her apartment and stay with Belle. When she arrives, she gets a shock.

---

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 Kristina arrived carrying her sports bag, Marion remembered that she had intended to take hers in the previous morning, but had been distracted by Belle's non-appearance. She fetched it from the bedroom ready. Trish appeared ten minutes later, and the three set off for the facility. They had to recount the robbery of the previous evening to Kristina, which alarmed her greatly. Once inside, Kristina showed Marion where to deposit the dirty washing, and then they changed and went of to their respective work places.

Marion got Alison to inspect her scraped hands and knees, and the doctor pronounced herself satisfied with the way they were healing before the two then made their way up to D Deck to do the morning's visiting of the sick. Afterwards Marion declined an invitation to visit one of the other Decks, since she had decided to try and make some impression on the backload of administration resulting from the visits she had already made - a situation not helped by all of yesterday's diversions. So, she was intent on her terminal when Sophia passed the office and spotted her.

"Marion! What are you doing here?"

"Working, Sophia. Should I be somewhere else?"

"Yes! I told you to make your shifts the same as Shepherd Marchand's. That means you should not be here today."

"Oh. That's right, isn't it? I'm sorry Sophia, I forgot. Yesterday had a few distractions. You heard I got involved in a robbery yesterday evening?"

"No." Sophia came into the office and took a seat. Marion retold her encounter with the three youths once more, pointing out that she would have come in today to get checked over, in any case.

"You visiting any Decks today?" Sophia asked.

"No, I thought I'd spend some quiet time instead trying to do some paperwork. The only thing I'd planned to do was to go up to E Deck later on this afternoon for a social visit."

Sophia considered. "Very well, I'll let you stay today. But I meant what I said, Marion. If I find you here tomorrow, I'll ask Site Security to escort you off the premises, understand?"

"Yes, Director. Although?"

"Although what? Don't try to wriggle out of it now."

"I was just going to compare the pot to the kettle."

Sophia reddened. "Ouch, that was a low blow, and perfectly aimed." She smiled. "You, of course, are perfectly correct, but I'm in charge, so what I say goes. I'll see you at lunch time, then."

Marion spent the rest of the morning bringing her journal up to date, along with fending off the usual torrent of unnecessary messages, before Sophia and Alison came to take her to lunch. She was picking through her tuna salad when Sophia asked, "What do you think you might do tomorrow?"

Marion opened her mouth to speak, and then paused, because what came into her mind then would have come out as a whine. Starting again, she replied, "I'm not confident about going out in public, Sophia, especially after last night. So I expect I'll probably stay in tomorrow. Why do you want me out of the facility so soon? I've barely been here four days, hardly enough time to get my feet under the desk."

"Yes, but try and look at this objectively. You've just finished six months out of touch with practically everything, and that period ended with a bit of drama when Director Pannal tried to do things to you, and now you've got to try and make sense not just of the outside world, but a new gender and a new job as well. Since you and Belle seem to have hooked up reasonably well I thought it would be a good idea if you two stayed close to one another for a while, and she could help you through the transition period. That's why I wanted you to sync your shifts with hers. As she's off at the moment, it seemed a good idea to me for you two to get together. I think she would be good for you, and vice versa."

"The problem is, Director, is that I feel a lot more comfortable inside than I do outside. What's going on inside the facility is, when it's not a known quantity, then at least bound by straightforward rules I can understand, and follow. That's not the case outside at the moment. I might look reasonably convincing as a female, but I still feel a total fraud."

"Really? Well, you're doing a most convincing job as far as I can tell." Alison nodded agreement.

"That's because you know me. You've known me since I came here. All my friends are in here, too. Outside, it's full of strangers who don't know me, and who expect something I'm not, and I don't know how to react to. At least, not yet, anyway."

Sophia's eyes narrowed. "There is something in what you say. But I still don't want you to be here every day, because if you do, it won't be much better for you than if you had still been detained, you'll still be institutionalised. Why don't you go and visit Belle, then, at her apartment?"

Marion felt an instant panic at the thought of travelling all that way on her own, but it subsided when she realised that she could do the journey by taxi.

"When I first came out, Belle didn't want to be with me all the time because she was afraid she'd smother me. She stayed a couple of nights, but said that I would adapt better if she wasn't there the whole time," she explained. "She did invite me back to her place, but I felt it was too soon after I was released. On the other hand, time has passed since we said those things, and I'll give it consideration. You're right, I don't have to stay in my apartment tomorrow, I could go and see Belle instead." She gave a faint smile. "When you suggested it, I felt panic, since I haven't been anywhere on my own yet. I think I'll give it a try, though. I have to be positive about these things."

"Hmm," Sophia considered. "Perhaps I was being a little hasty. If you go to Belle's, are you sure you can do it by yourself? Do you want someone from here to accompany you?"

"If I go, it'll have to be by taxi, in which case I should be able to manage it by myself. Thank you for asking."

After lunch, instead of accompanying Sophia and Alison back to Sick Bay, Marion went to the locker room and retrieved her communicator from her bag. Suddenly uncertain of the legality of using it in the facility, she walked into the lobby and asked the receptionist, who said that it was fine to use a communicator anywhere in the building that was outside the fence, but that it probably wouldn't go down too well in the canteen or either of the locker rooms. Why didn't the Counsellor have a seat in the waiting area here and make her call?

"Belle?"

"Marion? Is something wrong? I'll come in if you want me to."

"No, no, nothing like that. Look, Sophia's made me set up my shift pattern so that it coincides with yours -"

"Made?"

"Yes. Choice was not offered. She wants to push us together, I think, mostly to help me, but I don't think you'll object, will you? It's because of the, oh, no, I haven't told you about the robbery yet."

"Robbery? What happened? Were you hurt?"

"Scrapes to hands and knees, is all. I'll give you the full story when I see you, but I went up the corner shop with Diana Poulsen, you know her?"

"Diana, yes, of course."

"She's standing in for you, and she lives in one of the other blocks, so we went shopping, and three young unregistereds jumped us on the way back. Pushed me over, but the one that tried Diana had his arm pulled out at the shoulder."

"That sounds like Diana. She's extremely experienced, so three thugs would be no match for her. So, you're okay, then?"

"I suppose so. But why I'm calling is, Sophia wants me out of the facility tomorrow. She wanted me out today, but I'm just catching up on paperwork, so she let me stay. I told her I didn't want to be outside on my own, and she suggested that I visit you."

"You know I'd be delighted with that idea, but what about you? Do you think you're ready to come and visit me? How will you get here?"

"I'll take a taxi, I think. I can't do it all the time, but it'll be worth it to start with. When do you think I should come? Tonight? Tomorrow morning?"

"You can come tonight, after work, there's no big problem. I'll arrange an evening meal for the pair of us, then, to save you having to eat before you come. You can stay tomorrow night as well, and the two of us can travel in to the facility together the following day. Before you say anything, I'll have to come in to let Alison look at my dressings. How's your bottom?"

"Still throbs a bit, but bearable. Your address?"

"I'll send it to your communicator, and I'll let the gate know you're coming. I suppose I'd better let you get back to work now, as you've obviously just finished lunch. I'll await your arrival with great anticipation. Bye, love."

"Bye."

As Marion got up from her seat, the receptionist looked up.

"Counsellor Hillier, could you go to Director Khiskov's office, please? There's some sort of meeting, and I think they're waiting for you."

"Certainly. I'll have to put this away first." Marion held up her communicator.

She entered the Site Security Director's office to find Donna, Trish and the Proctor from last night's incident waiting for her.

"Service, citizens." She turned to the Proctor. "Is this about the robbery last night?"

Donna looked startled. "Robbery? What's this?"

The Proctor gestured to Marion, and she recounted the events of the previous evening as she found a seat and made herself comfortable. Donna frowned.

"No, I didn't know about that. You should really have made a report about it when you came in this morning, Counsellor, but as you couldn't possibly have known that was necessary I shan't complain about it. This time. No, this meeting is for something entirely different, the business with your apartment building. Proctor Todescu here is handling the civil and legal case, while we provide the technical assistance."

"You have a case, then?" Marion glanced at Trish, who gave her a smug look.

"Let's just say that we have barely opened the can of worms," said Todescu. "We have enough so far to warrant a full investigation of the whole set-up, though. Perhaps Technician Flanagan can tell us what she's found."

"I'll keep it simple," Trish said, "since I've barely had a chance to look at the files because we've had other problems inside the facility that have taken our time. But what I did find made me call the Director straight away." She paused to think out her explanation.

"I took a complete dump of the building's systems while you were out being robbed, Counsellor, as well as investigating the state of the monitors in your apartment. It seems that our Building Supervisor got someone to make a number of unauthorised changes to the systems. What was presented to the outside world was not what the internal sensors indicated. As the Proctor said, it looks like a can of worms.

"The first thing I looked at was the door logs, the real ones, and I discovered that the list of citizens who have been using their cards to gain entry to the building does not correspond to the list of citizens who are supposed to be living there. Oh, obviously there are going to be visitors, like myself, but it shouldn't work the other way. There are citizens supposedly living in the building who haven't entered the front door for many months, in some cases years.

"Turning to the logs for individual apartments, some of them have been accepting IDs from unknown citizens, and certainly not the persons who are supposed to be living in those apartments. That's about as far as I was able to get, but I decided it was more than enough to trigger an investigation."

"What you're saying," Marion thought out loud, "is that there are apartments where the owners haven't been out for months if not years? Are they dead?" Have I been living in a building with a mass murderer?

"No, Counsellor," replied Todescu, "It doesn't work like that. The building only logs citizens wanting to gain entry to the building, not when they leave. I think what the Technician is saying is, these citizens left their apartments a long time ago and never returned. The other side of this is that Supervisor Hirsch appears to be illegally letting out some of these apartments to person or persons unknown."

"That's what he's doing," Marion said slowly. "That's what he tried to do to me, to scare me out of the apartment. If I'd been an ordinary detainee with a record, I might not have wanted to hang around long with him nearby harassing me, I'd have gone off, maybe back to my previous haunts. And he played the heavy hand with me, too. I guess anyone who he scared away wouldn't be too likely to file a grievance." She looked at Donna. "Are there any facility staff, like me, or any support staff living there?"

"Apart from yourself, I think there's a Shepherd and several canteen staff living there, we'll have to do a complete audit now to find out who's actually living where. There are no professional staff who are supposed to support released detainees living there, I think." Donna frowned. "We should have picked up on that one. If we have detainees wander off without release assistance, that would probably not do the reconviction rates any good, either."

"Do you think the unauthorised residents are criminals?" Marion asked.

Todescu shook his head. "It's too early to tell." He looked at Marion. "I should warn you, that we plan to let him carry on today, and surround the building tonight when everything's quiet. Then we'll go through the whole building with a fine tooth comb. It will mean disturbing your sleep, I'm afraid, and there might be an element of danger if anyone inside is alerted."

Marion relaxed. "Actually, I shan't be there tonight. I'm going to visit a friend." She turned to Donna, "Shepherd Marchand."

Todescu nodded. "That's good. The Shepherd who lives there, I'm told, is working the Evening Shift, so probably will still be in the facility when we go in. That means that apart from the canteen staff mentioned, we can regard anyone we find inside as suspect. Can you stay with your friend for a while? We may have to close the building down for a few days to restore the systems. We are thinking of rehousing the facility staff who live there, once they've been cleared."

Marion thought. "I can do that. It's not quite what I had planned, but we'll work around the problems."

The meeting broke up and Marion returned to her office. She tried to do some more paperwork, but her head was buzzing with the afternoon's revelations and how she would handle the immediate consequences. Finally she gave up, turned off her terminal, and headed for E Deck.

Diana, of course, had told the E Deck crew what had happened the previous evening, and when Marion appeared at the watch station everyone wanted to offer sympathy and support. She spent some time discussing the recent events, including Belle's accident, before heading for the far lounge. The 'usual crowd' was in residence, and of course they had also heard what had happened. Marion was touched, but no longer surprised, when several of the women expressed their best wishes for Belle and hoped that she would soon be back on duty. How far they had all come in six months!

The discussion then turned to what Marion had been doing, both inside and outside the facility. A fairly detailed discussion of the previous few days events took place, and Marion kept her promise to discuss some of the things she'd encountered elsewhere on her rounds, mostly on D Deck. She received in return, amongst other things, a full recounting of the activities of Irina Tetsuskaya and the terrorist group that she had been part of, from some of the older women who remembered that time in some detail. She ended by telling them that she would be spending a few nights, and maybe some days, with Belle at her apartment. She had to word this carefully to avoid saying anything about the impending operation.

"It's a match made in heaven," declared Martha.

Jill pursed her lips in mock horror and said, "You can't say things like that! What if the Unapproved Speech Monitors should hear you?"

Martha grinned. "What are they going to do with me? Put me in a facility? Still, I maintain that you and Belle make a good couple, Marion. How far have you gone?"

Marion blushed beet red. "Uh, I don't know what's acceptable to discuss in this context," she said hurriedly. "I know what men discuss, and it's mostly made up on the spot, but I don't know what women do. You'll have to be my guide."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Marion, I keep forgetting. You're so much like one of us now that I have difficulty remembering your background sometimes," Martha apologised. "Let's see. Of course, I don't hear much of what men say to one another, but I guess we compare as opposed to compete. We're comparing our own experiences, of course, not what the silly men think they're doing. Does that sound about right? How far do we go? Well, depending on who you're with, it can get downright gynaecological. Women can be just as crude as men when they want to be, more so if alcohol is involved."

"I think I understand. You'll have to warn me if I go too far one way or the other, though. This being a woman thing takes a lot of concentration at the moment. As far as Belle goes, we slept in the same bed when she was there the first couple of days, but I was too tired to do anything. It was the shock of being outside, mostly. I know Belle has plans, and I'm beginning to feel some anticipation building for tonight, so we'll just have to see how it goes. My main problem is that I still don't really know which bits of me work any more, especially as some of them are new, as it were."

Martha eyed Marion's bustline thoughtfully. "Mmm. I think you're due for an interesting evening, but I shan't spoil it for you. Don't forget, as women we're more interested in the romantic side of any and every relationship, rather than the gory details, but gory details will do if they are interesting enough. We'll expect some kind of report when you get back, won't we, girls?"

"Ah, I'll have to be careful, here," cautioned Marion. "I don't mind opening up to you lot in here, but we have to remember that Belle's a Shepherd, and I have to make sure that I don't say anything that might bring her position into disrepute. That aside, I'll promise to report back as things progress."

The meeting continued until the chime went and everyone went their separate ways. Marion stayed with the Day Shift until Alex and Sandy turned up to replace them, and then they all headed for the lift in order to get changed. Diana had offered to see Marion home, and because Diana's locker was in the other locker room, she waited by the front door for her to arrive.

It was raining, heavily, and the sky was almost dark despite there being some hours of daylight left. Marion pulled her new umbrella out of her bag and looked at it. It was one of the new designs which folded up several times in order to fit into a modern woman's bag, and she puzzled over how to get the thing open. Fortunately Diana appeared and showed her the trick, and then the two women set off towards their homes, flimsy umbrellas held high. Marion was initially startled by the feel of rain against her bare legs, both coming down and splashing up from the pavement, but since the rain was relatively warm, she soon accepted it as something that was part of her new existence. At the entrance to her block, she said goodbye to Diana and hurried inside.

She had been thinking all afternoon about what to pack. A couple of nights with a day in between was no problem, but if her stay was to be extended she would have to take a significant portion of her available clothes. There was also the potential problem of washing, since presumably anything she left in the apartment would be trapped there until she could regain access. There were also the various feminine accessories to consider, like make-up, hair brushes and the like. And she only had one bag. It also occurred to her that if she took too much clothing, the Building Supervisor might think he'd made her go, and reclaim the apartment. He might not be able to do much with it in the time he had remaining, but Marion didn't want him pawing through her things.

In the end she made some fairly arbitrary decisions about what to take and what to leave, and stuffed her shoulder bag with the cosmetics and suchlike before wedging, carefully, her chosen clothes into the sports bag. Her washing went into a plastic liner inside one of the empty grocery bags. During this process, once she could see the end, she had called for a taxi, and she was waiting by the front door when it arrived. Hurrying through the rain with her bags under her arms, she gained the dry haven of the vehicle.

"Service, citizen. Filthy night. Where to?"

"Er, one minute, let me see. Block Four, Victory Gardens," Marion read from her communicator.

"You sure about that, citizen?"

"Yes, that's where my friend lives. I'm going to stay with her."

"If you say so, citizen."

The taxi took off and turned onto the boulevard down which the tram route led. Marion had been part of this way previously with Belle, when they had been shopping. Soon, though, the buildings either side changed as they entered an older part of the city. Marion knew roughly where their destination was, but had never approached it from this direction, and never had much need to go there previously. The taxi made a couple of turns and then pulled up apparently in the middle of nowhere.

"This is as far as I'm allowed to take you, citizen. I don't have clearance to take you inside the Enclave, and I'm guessing you don't either. You'll have to go inside the Control Post over there and get checked out."

"Control Post? Where?" The cabbie pointed to a white-painted building just visible through the pouring rain. Concrete posts prevented him approaching any closer. The Enclave? Belle lives in the Enclave? How on earth does she manage that?

The cabbie was speaking again. "Do you want me to wait for you, in case they don't let you in? I won't charge you waiting time, just for the ride."

"No, thank you citizen, I shouldn't think that would be necessary." What are they going to check me for in there? Better get going, this could take some time. I can always get another cab if there's been some mistake made. "Here's my card. Give yourself a standard tip, and thanks for the ride."

Marion struggled through the rain with her bags and pushed her way through the street door of the Control Post. Dropping her bags on the floor, she approached the desk.

"Service, citizen?" There was a man in a black uniform behind the desk, but his cuffs had a green stripe instead of Proctor purple. State Security. Whatever is going on?

Marion presented her card. "I'm here to visit my work colleague who lives here, Belle Marchand. She lives in Block -"

"I know where she lives, citizen. Is she expecting you?"

"Yes, this was arranged earlier today, although she's been trying to get me to come for a while."

The security man consulted a list and presumably found Marion's name on it, because he nodded.

"You've not been here before, then?"

"No, citizen. Is there a problem?"

"Not exactly. You'll have to have a full security check before we can let you in. It won't take long. Once we've done that, and verified you, you'll be added to a list and you'll be able to come and go with minimal delay. If you'd like to go through that door?"

The checks turned out to be a full biometric workover, including blood tests and life history. This, of course, turned up Marion's interesting ID record, and she spent a considerable time trying to explain to them what had happened. In the end she pointed out that if it was good enough for the Appeal Court, it should be good enough for them. They reluctantly accepted this, but still called Belle for additional verification. The verbal assault she gave them via communicator could be heard over the other side of the room, and the pair of security men who had grilled Marion looked sheepish when the call ended.

"Your clearance is good, citizen. We won't give you any further trouble. I'll call a buggy to take you to Block Four."

The buggy was a small electric vehicle used for patrolling the grounds of the Enclave, and Marion was glad of it's cover as it took her to the entrance of Block Four. This building, like the ones just visible either side through the rain, was at least a hundred years old. They were made of red brick, a building material long abandoned by Marion's day, with white stone facings to the windows and entrances.

Inside the entrance of the building, to her surprise, was a concierge who accepted her card grudgingly before feeding it into his machine. He called a young man who took Marion's bags and led her to the lifts. The walls of the entrance hallway were panelled in expensive looking wood, and all the floors had thick carpets on them, muffling all sound. Marion felt guilty at dripping rain all over them.

Marion and the youth got out on E Deck and she was shown to a door at one end of the corridor. This opened as they approached, and Belle immediately emerged and grabbed Marion in a big hug before accepting the bags from the youth and ushering her inside. Belle waved Marion through into the living room.

"I'm glad you've arrived safely. Have a seat, do! Do you want something to drink? A hot drink, perhaps, to help you dry out?"

Marion stood in the middle of Belle's living room, stunned. She had supposed, from remarks Belle had made when they had first gone to Marion's apartment, that Belle had lived in a somewhat similar, if better furnished, apartment to her own. This, however, was of an entirely different order.

The room was bigger than Marion's living room. This was mainly because Marion had a kitchen and dining area at one end of hers, whereas Marion could see a separate kitchen through an open doorway here. The room was panelled with wood, and the ceiling was twice as high as Marion's, as were the windows, which showed that the room was obviously in the corner of the building. Belle had drawn the curtains as it was mostly dark outside, and the curtains were rich velvet. Most apartments were lucky to have curtains or blinds at all. The furniture was all sumptuous wood, most of it obviously antique, and there was a dining table laid for two, with shining cutlery and sparkling china and glassware. There were sideboards, comfy chairs, and a bookcase which had a row of books on one of the shelves. There was even a fireplace, although it was empty at the moment.

"Belle," Marion said, raising her hands, "What's going on?"

"I knew you'd have to find out sometime," Belle said. "Some of the girls know, although I try not to let it be too freely talked about. This is a sort of grace-and-favour apartment, given to me to live in, out of respect for my father. He was a much-loved District Commissioner around these parts. I was brought up here, this used to be where my parents lived. When he died, I sort of inherited it. I don't really want to live here, it's much too grand for my tastes most of the time."

"Oh. You're up in rarefied sort of Party affairs I know nothing of, and want to know even less of." Belle nodded. "But, if you don't want to live here, why didn't you put in for a move? Somewhere closer to the facility, perhaps?"

"I tried to, when I first lived here on my own. It was gently explained to me that if I moved out, that could be construed as an insult to my father's memory. So I'm more or less stuck here." Belle shrugged. "It does have some compensations. Perhaps you'll see them if the rain's gone by the morning. In the mean time, what about that drink, and then I'll show you where to put your bags."

Marion looked doubtful.

"Look," Belle said, "I'm still the same Belle you know, just as you're the same Marion I know, and I know you're the same person, even though you used to be Marlon. Good grief, woman, what on earth have you got in this bag? Your entire belongings?"

"Ah, yes. Perhaps a cup of tea would be a good idea. I have a great deal to tell you. It seems I may be staying a little longer than anticipated, providing you'll accept me, of course."

"I'll get the kettle going, and also start dinner. While I'm doing that, I suggest you take your bags along to the last room on the left. It's the spare bedroom. You should unpack your bags and lay your things out over the bed so that the creases stand a chance of coming out. I'll be there in a few moments to sort out some hangers."

Marion took her bags along to the indicated room, noting that even here the floors were carpeted in such quality that made her want to cringe every time she put her wet shoes down. Like the living room, the bedroom was wood-panelled and well-furnished, but it was obviously little used otherwise. Pulling out her clothes from her bag, she attempted to smooth them out as she laid them over the bed. She found her house slippers and exchanged her wet outdoor shoes for them. Belle appeared as she wondered what to do with the bags.

"That's done, dinner will be in about half an hour or so. What's in that bag?"

"My washing."

As they walked back to the living room, Marion began to explain the afternoon meeting with Site Security, and then had to backtrack and explain the robbery attempt, followed by Trish's visit to her apartment, followed by the meal Marion, Trish and Diana had had together. Belle got very confused, but eventually understood what Marion was saying about her apartment and her clothes.

"That's it, then, you're moving in with me. We may have settled Supervisor Hirsch's hash, but you probably won't be able to go back to your apartment for a week, and if you live here for a week you might as well move in permanently. I know it wasn't quite what either of us planned, but it's the obvious answer to a number of different questions. What do you think?"

"It's a little bit soon, and maybe I'm jumping out of the pan into the fire," Marion replied, "but from a logical point of view, it seems to be the obvious answer. But," she said with a raised finger, "don't think I don't realise that it gets me just where you want me to be. Perhaps it's more like fly meeting spider." Belle had the grace to lower her gaze when Marion said this, as Belle had always made it plain what she wanted.

"Actually," Marion continued, "I'm quite looking forward to living with you, and I'd realised that this was what would probably happen, given the course of events. Although I never in my wildest dreams expected this." She gestured around her with both hands. "I never even realised such places still existed."

"Most of the Enclave is like this," Belle said. "It's a kind of island where the high and mighty can get some peace, I'm just here by accident of birth. Did I hear you say you're looking forward to living here?" Belle asked, the hope plain in her eyes.

"I'm yours, Belle," Marion replied, quietly. "The nights I've spent alone since I came out showed me that clearly. We still have much to find out about each other, as any couple does, but I trust you, as I've trusted you for the last seven months. Just, please," she pleaded, "don't spring any more big surprises on me for a while, will you? This place of yours is quite enough to be going on with."

The two women stood as one and went into an emotional embrace, tightly clasping one another as they recognised the bond between them. They looked into one another's eyes, and tenderly kissed, holding each other close. Marion felt definite stirrings within herself as the feelings built, and recognised that it had been over a year since she had had similar feelings. Perhaps it was time to start again.

Belle broke the clinch. "I have to tend to dinner, and the kettle will have boiled. Will you come and help out in the kitchen?"

"Gladly. Tell me, how are you managing with that hand bandaged?"

"There are one or two things it makes awkward, but Alison did a good job with the dressing. Having my finger sticking out is the biggest problem, but it only bothers me when I'm washing myself. Don't concern yourself, although I might need help to take the bandage off and put it on again sometime."

Marion sat at the counter in the kitchen with a cup of tea while Belle prepared vegetables and made sure that everything was proceeding according to plan, at the same time discussing in more detail what had happened to the pair of them the previous two days. Marion did lend a hand, but the meal was not complicated and Belle knew where everything was, and when it had to have anything done to it, so her actions were more symbolic than anything. Neither woman minded, since the atmosphere between them had undergone a significant change as both accepted their future.

Finally, the meal was ready, and they sat down to salmon with herbed butter, asparagus, new potatoes and peas with a small side salad. Belle produced a small bottle of wine which just filled their two glasses.

"I was saving this for a special occasion," she remarked as she poured. "I never expected to get to drink it quite this soon, though. Because of work, we Shepherds don't drink much alcohol, so this is an unexpected treat." She gave Marion a sidelong glance. "Of course, it's a different matter when we're out on the town. I hope we won't scare you the first time we take you out, we tend to be a bit raucous."

"I wasn't much of a party person previously," replied Marion, and they both understood that to mean Marlon wasn't, "but I used to go out at weekends with Anna, so I'm aware of what might happen. The new me might have different tastes, of course."

The meal was finished with some ice-cream Belle had dug out of the recesses of her small freezer, following which they cleared the table and sat down on the sofa with coffee to talk some more. Marion wanted to know if moving in with Belle would cause any problems.

"I shouldn't think so. You've had the full security workover - and I'm sorry for that, I completely forgot it would happen to you - so you should be able to come and go as you please. In fact, if you come and live here, it may make the local Tenancy Committee happier, since there would be two living here instead of one."

"Are there going to be any problems with two women living together? I know what the law says, but people's prejudices are a completely different thing."

"Heh. No, they won't complain, not to my face, anyway. They may mutter things behind our backs, but we shouldn't get any problems on that score." Marion couldn't figure out why Belle seemed so confident of that. Belle added with a smirk, "We should be able to shut them up when they get a look at your legal status, anyway. Once they discover you're legally male there could be all kinds of interesting side effects. In fact, I'd love to be a fly on the wall at that meeting. The looks on their faces would be priceless."

Marion said, "You're a nasty vindictive person, Belle Marchand, and I'm glad you're on my side." Belle grinned. "Tell me, will me moving in here have any financial implications? This place just can't be cheap, by any definition of the word."

"I told you, it's a grace-and-favour job. I pay nothing. Oh, I do pay a service charge, but I think they even discount that. These are fully-serviced apartments, you realise. There's a whole load of staff, cleaners, decorators and other tradesmen who are employed just to look after all the buildings in the Enclave. Because of who lives here, it couldn't be any other way. All these buildings are also on the Historical Register, so they require specialist upkeep in any case. That does mean that, from time to time, you may find strange workmen wandering about, and possibly wanting access to the apartment. Most of the time, of course, we won't see them because we'll be at work."

"This could take some time to get used to. I understand why you wouldn't want to talk about it much elsewhere."

After some more small talk, they went into the kitchen and washed up and cleared away all the dinner things. The kitchen window didn't have curtains, and so Marion was able to see a little of what lay behind Building Four. She got a glimpse, through the heavy rain, of a high wall topped with razor wire, and beyond that some trees being moved about by the storm, lit by a few street lights. She guessed the trees were on the edge of the park that Belle had mentioned before. By the time they had finished the evening had worn on and by mutual agreement they retired to Belle's bedroom.

"This used to be my parents' room," Belle said as they entered. "The other one was mine when I was growing up. What do you think?"

Like the other rooms, it was wood panelled. There were a row of doors along one wall, another had velvet curtains the entire length which implied a huge window, and a massive bed occupied a third wall.

"The bed's huge," said Marion. "I don't think I've ever seen one this size before."

"They are standard within the Enclave," Belle explained, "but, no, they aren't a size you'd have seen before. They are two and a half metres on a side. The bedding all has to be custom made. We have a small unit somewhere that handles all the soft furnishings, including bedding."

What drew Marion's eye were the two garments laid out across the bed, both nightdresses. Both were white and composed of several soft, filmy layers trimmed with lace. Marion looked a question at Belle.

"Well, I certainly wasn't going to let you wear facility issue in here," she said, "not when I knew your size anyway, and I had the opportunity to get something more appropriate yesterday afternoon after you called. Call it a welcome gift."

Marion's tears ran freely as she acknowledged the generosity of her friend. She clasped Belle and said, "I don't deserve this, any of it."

"Nonsense," Belle replied, "You deserve all of it. This is just what you need to adapt to something resembling a normal existence."

Marion had to stifle hysteria. "You call this normal? This is like another planet compared to what I'm used to."

"Maybe." Belle gazed directly into Marion's eyes. "Welcome to planet woman, finally."

Marion felt a shiver, but whether it was of apprehension or anticipation she could not determine. "Yes," she said in a small voice, holding Belle tightly. "Perhaps it's time I did. I'm a blank page, Belle. Write something special on me."

They began to kiss, and soon the emotions and the physical sensations began to build. They started to remove each other's clothing, depositing them in heaps on chairs at the side of the room.

Marion reached for a nightdress, and Belle said, "No." Marion thought she'd chosen the wrong one, and leaned over to pick up the other, and Belle said, "No," again. "Later."

Belle carefully released herself from Marion's grip and draped the two nightdresses over the chairs before returning and gently seating the two of them on the side of the bed. More kissing followed. Then, as Marion wondered what was going to happen next, Belle moved. She placed the heels of both hands lightly on Marion's nipples and then gently brushed her hands to the sides.

The explosion of sensation was completely beyond anything Marion had ever experienced before, and it took her entirely by surprise. She slumped backwards onto the bed, boneless, her head lolling to one side, her eyes half closed, as she absorbed the wave of intense pleasure that had begun at her nipples, filled her breasts and immediately spread through her upper body like hot lava. Her lungs released her breath with a low moan. Watching her response, Belle leaned forward to repeat the move as her own body reacted to Marion's actions, her breathing quickening. The next time, Marion's groan was louder.

I didn't know this was even possible! How can anybody even survive the intensity of these feelings? I'm lost, lost. Her arms, at the same time leaden and fiery, reached upwards until her hands touched Belle's breasts, and then Belle collapsed on the bed beside Marion as they fed off each other's responses. Marion's skin, super-sensitive, sent waves of feeling over her wherever they touched Belle's body, and she knew that Belle's body was reacting in the same way as her own was.

At some point they climbed properly onto the bed before continuing. Both Marion and Belle had had previous experience with women, but Belle was by far the most knowledgeable. The boredom of her army years had been alleviated with much experimentation, and she put all her skills to good use. Marion, on the other hand, had had a revelation. That was, for the first time she knew exactly what her partner was feeling, and just exactly how to produce the best response from Belle, especially when Belle showed her what to do on her own person.

But Marion finished the moves by doing something to Belle that Belle could not do to Marion, and that was to use her hand to bring Belle to orgasm again and again. Despite Belle's gentlest and most careful efforts, Marion's remaining masculine equipment refused to take part in the evening's activities. Finally the two fell exhausted on the bed in one another's arms.

After a while, Marion had to rouse herself. "Bathroom?"

"The door nearest the window," Belle murmured. "Don't be long."

Marion staggered, naked and shaking from the intensity of the experience, through the door and into a white-tiled bathroom. She cleaned herself up afterwards and looked at her face in the mirror. It showed a heavy flush and the pupils of her eyes were so large they were almost invisible. As she left the bathroom Belle passed her going the other way. When the two of them had reclined again, naked, on the bed Marion spoke.

"I cannot describe what just happened to me. It's impossible. I just don't have the words. I have never experienced anything like that in my entire existence. I didn't know it was possible to feel like that and not die." Marion leaned towards Belle and kissed her gently. "Thank you for introducing me to your world. Is this what all women feel?"

"Sometimes," Belle replied, returning the kisses. She placed her unbandaged hand on one of Marion's breasts, the sensation making the nipple feel like a hot coal on the front of Marion's chest. "It varies. I think there was a great deal of anticipation on both sides tonight, which definitely helped. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything more for you."

"For now, I think you've done more than enough," replied Marion. She looked deep into Belle's eyes. "And I can't wait for you to do it again."

Belle smiled warmly. "It's just what you needed, I think. You've had to be a monk - or a nun - for a year, so I definitely think you've got to the head of the queue. How are you feeling? Want some more?"

"Rather a lot of me is super-sensitive right now, I think I need to let things calm down a bit. We're not in any hurry, are we?"

"No, indeed not. We've all the time in the world. Let's put our pretties on and go to bed properly."

Marion had another surprise then, when she pulled the nightdress over her head, and she was enveloped by sensations from the fine fabric.

"Ooh, this is incredible. No wonder women wear such delicate-feeling clothes, if this is what they feel like to the touch. I've obviously still got so much to learn," she said. They climbed under the covers and Belle put out the lights. "And I just can't wait to learn it."

* For the metrically challenged, 2.5 metres is approx 100 inches = 8 feet four inches (or so).

Marion discovers why Belle lives in the Enclave, what happened in the Proctor operation, and goes for a walk in Victory Park. And what effect might Citizen Silver have on her?

---

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 opened her eyes, it was to see Belle's sleeping face next to hers. This time however, the sight filled her with joy. I'm so lucky, lucky. I've found someone who can look after me, help me learn what needs to be learned. Someone who's kind and beautiful, and who wants me, wants me for who and what I am. Someone who I can trust. Love? Maybe. Certainly someone whom I've grown intensely fond of over the past few hectic weeks. I'm glad it worked out this way.

Belle's arm was stretched across Marion's middle, holding her close. Marion regarded the frothy, slightly stiff material of the garments they were both wearing. Not quite so stimulating as last night, perhaps, but pretty sensual still this morning. Her eyes examined the room they were in. It seemed to her that her vision was sharper, the colours more vivid, her hearing more acute, her skin more sensitive. She looked at the row of doors facing the bottom of the bed, picking out details and colour variations in the wood she had not noticed the previous evening. (Mind you, she had been somewhat otherwise occupied, the previous evening.)

Is this what it's going to be like, from now on? No wonder women obsess over trivial variations in pastel shades. And does this extra sensitivity make my problem easier or worse? Marion mentally shook her head, and tried to extricate herself from Belle's light grasp, but the movement woke her partner. Marion smiled at Belle.

"Hello, wonderful."

"Hello, gorgeous. I trust you slept well?" Belle said sleepily.

"Brilliantly, thanks to you. I think I was on cloud nine all night." Marion bent down and kissed Belle on the lips. "Thank you for the wonderful thing you did last night. It took me completely unawares. I didn't know it could ever be like that."

Belle managed a sleepy smile. "It took me by surprise as well. I must admit, usually one concentrates on one's own body, but watching you react affected me, as well. I got considerable pleasure from giving to you everything you deserved."

Marion reclined on the bed again. "I feel so sensitive all over now. You seem to have triggered something inside of me. Everything seems brighter, sharper."

Belle levered herself up onto one elbow, leaned across and carefully dragged a fingernail across one of Marion's breasts through the nightdress, encountering a nipple along the way. Marion collapsed as the unexpected shot hit her nervous system.

"Holy shit, Belle!" she gasped, reverting to factory floor vernacular. "Is this what it's going to be like from now on?"

"Wash your mouth out with toilet cleaner, young woman. What do you mean?"

"Young woman? I'm the same age as you."

"Yes and no. You've only been a woman for a few months, even though we're about the same age. I've had time to come to terms with this, you haven't."

"What I mean is, we're terribly vulnerable. If any Tom, Dick or Harriet can come along and push my buttons, and I just collapse on the spot, how on earth do women ever get anything done?"

"You'll learn. The ways of woman are many and devious, mostly the devious. I want to teach you enough so that you'll be able to stand on your own two not-so-dainty feet. I must admit, so far, it's giving me considerable satisfaction to do so."

Marion climbed out of bed, her breast still sparking from Belle's tweak. She headed for the bathroom.

"Mind if I have a shower?"

"Go ahead, do. I'll use the other bathroom."

When Marion got to the kitchen Belle had already arrived and started breakfast. The two were still wearing their nighties, but Belle had put a light housecoat on over hers.

"Orange juice, toast, scrambled eggs, coffee. That okay with you?"

"Yes, fine."

"Usually, I eat breakfast off the counter in here, but as there'll be two of us, we'll have to use the dining table. If you wouldn't mind?"

After a couple of calls to locate the correct plates, mats and cutlery, Marion had the table ready as Belle started bringing the food in.

"Looks and smells good," she said as she started eating. "I suppose you have today all planned out? What are we doing, then?"

"I did have today planned out," Belle said over a mouthful of toast, "but that was when you were only staying one day. As it is, I think we'll have to consider your wardrobe." She looked at Marion meaningfully. "That means shopping, I'm afraid. I can't imagine that you can live out of the contents of that bag of yours for very long." Marion's heart sank. "And we'll have to start your residency application sometime today, as well."

The euphoria with which Marion had started the day began to evaporate rapidly. Belle tried to encourage her, although the bare facts remained.

"Look, we didn't get half of what you needed when we went shopping before. I'll take you to some of the smaller shops I use which are a short walk away from here, and I know a lot of the proprietors, so we can be discreet. We'll do that this morning, and if the weather clears, we can have a walk in the park this afternoon. I was going to suggest that we eat out tonight, but that might depend on whether we can put together an outfit for you to wear or not. It's not going to be a big problem. If you're staying, we don't have to rush things any more."

"What about this residency thing then?"

"Oh, we'll do that on our way out, probably after lunch," Belle replied. "It'll involve calling into the Concierge's office, I imagine. If not, it'll mean a walk over to the Enclave's Security Control Centre. I'm sure they'll be able to fix us up."

State Security. Marion, as Marlon, had wanted nothing to do with Proctors and Enforcers seven months previously, and here was Belle calmly suggesting they pay a call on State Security. Admittedly, the intervening period had modified Marion's view of much of the apparatus of state, but even so! Belle obviously knew what she was doing, though, and seemed quite confident in her ability to handle said apparatus of state.

After clearing away the breakfast debris the two went along to the second bedroom, where much of Marion's clothing still was laid out on the bed. Belle cast an eye over it, shaking her head.

"What were you thinking, girl? You brought no tights at all! It's just as well I bought you that nightdress as well, wasn't it? Where's your other bra?"

"In the washing bag. I had to be careful, I didn't want Hirsch to get the idea I was abandoning the apartment, so I had to leave some things behind."

"Okay." Belle thought for a moment. "I can lend you a pair of tights. Sort yourself out an outfit to wear. Looks like we have a lot to do this morning."

"Are there shoe shops where you're taking me?"

Belle smiled at Marion. "See, I told you! Shoe victim."

"Not quite. I only brought the pair of shoes I was wearing and they're still damp from last night's journey."

"Why didn't you - oh, not enough room. I'll let you off, then. Let's get dressed. Put on some make-up, but not too much, as we'll be trying on one or two things and you wouldn't want to get it everywhere."

The two women walked out of the front of Block Four and turned left, walking along an access road which led between the two rows of buildings that made up the Enclave. It was still just raining, and the cloud above looked heavy, so they held up their umbrellas as they walked to the security gate. Rather than walk through, Belle ushered Marion into the post.

"Service," she greeted the two men seated there. "This is my good friend Citizen Hillier, who is staying with me. It seems, since we made our original arrangement, that she's been made temporarily homeless by a Proctor operation, so she may be staying for some while. I've just dropped her in so that you can get a look at her. She's been fully cleared."

"Service, citizens," one of the men said. "Hillier, did you say?" He checked a list on his terminal. "Yes, that's fine, Citizen Marchand. Citizen Hillier, you're welcome. Are you both going to work?"

"No," Belle said, holding up her bandaged hand. "I've been signed off for a few days. I thought I'd take Marion shopping, as she had to leave yesterday at short notice."

"That's okay," the man said, "see you later, then." He waved as the two women left the post.

"What's up?" Belle asked as they walked along the road. "You seem disturbed."

"I'm just not as comfortable with State Security as you are," Marion replied. "I suppose it's something else I'll have to get used to."

"It's really no big deal," said Belle. "In no time at all you'll just wave as you go through the gate, and they'll wave back, and that's all that will happen. You'll see."

When they got to the shopping area, Belle made a bee-line for a specific shop. "We'll do this one first, as I don't know how long it's going to take us. We can be flexible with what we do after that according to how long Citizen Bouvier takes."

The shop window had several dummies wearing bras, foundation garments and other underwear on display. Belle ushered Marion in. A short woman, obviously quite old, with white hair and thick glasses, appeared from a door at the back of the shop.

"Miss Belle! So nice to see you again." She noticed Marion, and her expression changed. "I'm sorry. How can I help you, Citizen Marchand?"

"It's all right, Michelle. She's with me, and she's the reason for my visit. We need to fit her out. She's not got very much in the way of underwear of any sort. Michelle, this is Marion Hillier, my very special friend. Marion, this is Michelle Bouvier, one of the best foundation fitters in the country, and also a friend. I've known her since I was little, heck, she used to fit my mother."

"Pleased to meet you." Marion shook hands with Michelle. "How is it you have no clothes, then?"

"Ah, that's a long story, and you need to know it before you start," Belle said. She looked at Marion. "With your permission? Michelle knows many of the secrets of her clients, and she would never divulge any of them."

Marion gave assent, and Belle told the story of how Marlon came to be Marion. Michelle pursed her lips and shook her head when she learned of the freak combination of circumstances that had occurred, and she looked at Marion with sympathy.

"I'll take care of you, my dear." She gave Marion a knowing look. "You're by no means the first such person I've fitted in this shop, so don't get embarrassed, now, will you? It'll all be straightforward, and no different to what I do for any other woman. Now, if you'd like to come this way, I'll need you to undress so that I can measure you properly. I'll be asking you a few questions, as well. Since you're relatively new at this business, you might not know the answer to some of them, but don't worry. We'll soon find you something suitable to wear."

Michelle started a new file, and jotted down all measurements and the answers to many questions that Marion answered. After getting fitted out in Stores, Marion had no problem with the level of detail which Michelle asked about, but some of the questions surprised her.

"I think that's all, my dear," the fitter said eventually. "Fortunately for you, you're more or less a standard size, so finding you something that fits shouldn't be a problem for you. I will ask you to come back in six months, or if you feel that anything is becoming uncomfortable, as I realise you're still developing."

"Thank you, er, Citizen Bouvier."

"Call me Michelle, please! We've no need to be so formal here. Now, then," Michelle fingered the Facility Issue bra which Marion had removed, "I understand that, like Belle here, you'll be wearing these to work. They're quite good, actually. These new-fangled laser fabricators can get very close to the correct size these days, so I've no hesitation in saying, continue to wear these. But you'll certainly want something a little more delicate, shall we say, for when you're not at work. How many do you think, Belle dear, three or five?"

Belle pursed her lips as she considered. "Five, I think. Yes, we might as well go the whole hog."

Michelle looked at Belle carefully. "Do you have designs on this citizen, Belle Marchand?"

"Oh, most certainly, Michelle. Most certainly." Belle gave a warm smile.

"Well! That makes a welcome change. I thought you'd never find someone. And you treat this tender new recruit carefully, do you hear? I don't want to hear in six months that you've scared her off, now. Understand me?" Michelle shook a finger at Belle, who grinned.

"Yes, mother," she said, cheekily.

"I should think so. Right, my dear, come this way and we'll find something fit for you to wear."

If Marion had thought that Facility Issue bras fit accurately and supported her comfortably, she was soon disabused of the notion as Michelle brought out a selection of garments that mostly looked as though they had been made by spiders. The well-fitting bras, coupled with the newly-sensitive nature of her breasts, made her re-evaluate her body shape and appearance once more as she stood in front of the mirror. Michelle offered a number of different styles to demonstrate to Marion what was available and to determine what might suit her best for any particular occasion.

Two bras in each of three different styles were selected, together with two others designed for special occasions. Michelle then brought out matching underwear of differing designs to go with the bras. This was followed up with waist and full slips, tights, and a suspender belt and stockings. Marion queried these last two items.

"You're not quite the same as us down below, are you? While tights will be comfortable for most situations, there are going to be occasions when it might be better not to let your bits get too hot, if you follow my meaning. For example, if you're wearing a long evening gown."

Marion was startled by this thought. The idea that she might go to some big event dressed in a long evening outfit at some point, with all the trimmings, had simply never occurred to her, but she recognised that it was an inevitable outcome of her present course of action. She sighed and nodded to Michelle.

"Yes. As usual, you're way ahead of me. It's taking me some time to work out the implications of all this."

"Don't worry, my dear, you're in good hands with Belle here, despite what I said earlier. Now, I think you've got everything, come through and I'll bag it all up for you."

As they left the shop and headed deeper into Old Town, Marion said, "Long evening gown? It hadn't occurred to me that I might be wearing anything like that when I decided to become a woman. Do you do much of that sort of thing? I'm not sure that I can quite cope with formal evening wear just yet."

"It's possible," Belle admitted, "Though I try to get out of the invitations if I possibly can. Working at the Facility has it's uses, sometimes. Fortunately, I don't think we have to cross that bridge for some months yet, so you can relax. We might have to find you a party frock or two, though, for going out with the girls. No, it's okay," Belle soothed as she caught sight of Marion's expression, "We can leave that for a week or two as well. Let's concentrate on filling those immediate gaps this morning."

They had morning coffee in a small cafe where, inevitably, the owner was an old friend of Belle's. A trawl though several small boutiques afterwards produced a light floral-patterned day dress, another plain more formal dress with a matching jacket, two more skirts, a lightweight raincoat and a summer housecoat. The final call was to a small shoe shop where Marion found two pairs of shoes including a pair with a 7cm heel that she just had to have, thus proving Belle's point.

Deciding that they had enough to carry, they retraced their steps to the Enclave. By this time, the rain had stopped, although the clouds were still dark and threatening. True to Belle's word, they simply waved at the gate guards as they let themselves through the turnstile at the barrier. Belle let them into the apartment, they dumped everything on the bed, and she went off to start lunch while Marion began to unpack her new wardrobe items.

As the two picked through the lunchtime salad the light in the room noticeably brightened.

"Good," Belle remarked. "Looks like that's the end of the rain. I think it will be okay to have a stroll in the park after lunch. I don't think we're likely to get wet at all."

Marion twisted in her seat to see the rear edge of the cloud that had produced all the recent rain, with beyond it blue sky and a few fluffy white clouds. The sky was lightening even as she watched. Once lunch was finished, they carried the dishes into the kitchen and then returned to the big windows in the living room. Belle put her arm round Marion's waist as they looked out, and Marion saw what was below the Enclave for the first time.

The wall that Marion had spotted through the storm the previous evening seemed smaller, and appeared to date from the same time as the buildings it protected. Beyond it, there was a double row of trees which ran in both directions as far as the eye could see. The windows of Belle's apartment were comfortably higher than the tops of the trees, so it was possible to get a good view of the park which lay beyond. This swept gently down into the distance, with single trees and groups of trees dotted here and there over the manicured landscape. Marion knew that at the bottom, hidden behind more trees, was New Town and then the river. The rain had washed the air clear, and the view from the apartment was truly spectacular.

To her left, the wall was broken by a huge wrought-iron gate with smaller pedestrian gates to either side. An avenue had originally run between this building and the next, through the gates and down the slope all the way to the city at the bottom. Of course, the large gate was sealed now, but one of the pedestrian gates was still usable with a small security post to one side. Through the gates Marion could see that a wide tarmac path ran between the two rows of trees, and beside it a wide sand track which indicated that it was used for exercising horses. Where the avenue and the paths intersected, Marion spotted four pillars, one in each corner.

"What are those, Belle? I can't quite make them out."

"There are statues there, of the Founders."

"Oh, yes, I can see them now, now I know what I'm looking at. It's tricky when they're under the trees like that."

The pillars were about two and a half metres high, and on top of them were life-size statues of the four people who had created the State forty years previously. Belle released her grip from Marion, but Marion didn't notice, as her attention was on the weathered bronze figures. The statues were facing inwards towards the centre of the intersection, and Marion named them as she identified them. After all, those events had happened ten years before she had been born.

"That one's Ursula van Doorn, I suppose, the party leader who became Prime Minister afterwards. And facing her I suppose must be Henrik Bergstrom, the first President. I don't know which of the two figures in uniform is which, but one must be Air Marshal Patterson, who refused to bomb his own people, and the other -" Marion swung round to face Belle, her eyes wide.

"That's right," said Belle, with an indecipherable expression on her face. "General Bernard St. Clair Marchand." She looked as if she was about to burst into tears. "My father."

Light bulbs popped in Marion's head as she realised the many clues that had surfaced over the previous week or so, from the opulent apartment to Belle's cryptic remarks about her Army service. Then she looked at Belle's face and realised that Belle had dreaded the moment when Marion found out, afraid that it would put her off the relationship. She also recognised, very quickly, the weight of expectation under which Belle had been living all these years. She immediately went to Belle and hugged her.

"You'll have to do much better than that," she murmured into Belle's ear, "if you want to get rid of me. You poor thing, I can't begin to imagine what you've had to put up with all these years. My own trivial problems pale by comparison."

Belle did burst into tears then, as the built-up tension she'd carefully concealed found it's own way out. Marion whispered comforting thoughts in her ear, and eventually Belle rallied. Marion looked directly at her.

"I didn't know any of this when I first met you. Now I do know, it doesn't make any difference to me. It's Belle the person I want to be with, and if you're the daughter of a famous man, then so be it. If I have to live with the trappings of luxury, then I'll just have to force myself."

Belle gave a wan smile. "I was so afraid you'd be put off when you found out. Many others have been, over the years. The girls at the facility who know - and it's not all of them - are all right with it, but, as you say, I've had to put up with quite a lot. It's very difficult being the child of someone famous."

"I bet! I suppose you've had to beat off the hangers-on, as well?"

"Some," Belle admitted. "That's one reason, although not the main one, why working at the facility is so good. I can basically hide up in there, and the long shifts help. It's not seen as a place where 'fashionable' people work, either, which also helps put them off."

Marion looked concerned. "Is my being here going to complicate your life? I don't want to make any more trouble for you."

"Not at all! I wouldn't have asked you here if I was that worried about what might happen. In fact," she added, "this place could do with a bit of a shake-up. Let's get that under way this afternoon by getting you residency here."

As they walked out of the room to get changed Marion remembered.

"Oh! I'd forgotten about last night's Proctor raid. Is there anything we can do from here to find out about what happened?"

"I don't know. I can get into contact with Site Security from here, let's see what they might be willing to tell us."

Belle led the way into a small room with mostly empty shelving covering every part of the wall that wasn't window or door. There was an ornate wooden desk in the middle of it, with a modern executive chair instead of the antique Marion was expecting.

"This was my father's old office," Belle explained. "In the days of paper, all these shelves were filled with books and documents related to his job as Army Chief of Staff. They're all in the State archives now. The original chair has gone to be repaired. I'm not sure they're going to give it back to me, after all, I'd only sit on it, and it's quite valuable now."

Belle sat down and thumbed on the terminal on the desk, entering the address of the facility. After a brief conversation, she was put through to Site Security.

"Service, citizen."

"Service. I'm Shepherd Marchand, and with me is Counsellor Hillier. We were wondering if it was possible for you to give us a status report on the Proctor operation which had been planned for last night. Would it be possible to speak to Director Khiskov directly?"

"Director Khiskov is not available at the moment, citizen, and does not normally take external calls." The woman tapped a few keys and referenced something at her end, and then turned her attention to Belle again. "What connection does this operation have with yourselves, citizen? This information is restricted."

"Citizen, I invite you to verify the credentials of your callers." Both Marion and Belle had inserted their ID cards into the terminal before the call. "We were the facility staff who originally reported the problem, and Counsellor Hillier lives in the residential block under investigation."

"Oh! My apologies, citizens, I had not made the connection with yourselves. Details are scant at the moment, as the Proctor concerned is still investigating. Director Khiskov stayed until the operation was completed, and has not come to work today. Let me pull the file for you." The woman read through the file, then summarised. "It seems that the operation was successful. The Building Supervisor was arrested, along with seventeen other persons not authorised to be in the building, and not known to be visitors. Some of those are known criminals, four were on the wanted list. Widespread tampering with building systems was discovered. Many citizens who our records indicate should have been residents were found not to be living there any more, we have no numbers for those at the present. In addition, it seems there are many irregularities in the accounts for the building, again there are as yet no details. Is that sufficient for your purposes, Shepherd?"

"That's all we wanted to know, citizen. Can you tell me if the building is open for the Counsellor to retrieve any of her belongings?"

The woman checked another file. "I'm sorry, Shepherd, no, it isn't. The building is sealed for investigation, and following release by the Proctor there is a work order for restoration of the systems. It could be a week, it could be two. Is there anything else I might help you with?"

"That's fine, citizen, we've taken up enough of your time. End call."

The women began to get themselves ready for the afternoon's stroll. Belle suggested that Marion wore the floral dress she'd bought that morning, and she would pull out a similar one of her own. Marion's dress was sleeveless with a slash neckline, a tailored bodice and a full skirt which reached just short of her knees. It had a white background, but there were masses of huge red roses all over it making it more red than white. A matching red satin ribbon emphasised her waist. She put on the second of the two pairs of shoes she had bought that morning, a pair of soft lace-ups more suitable for walking in the park. Having applied makeup and brushed her hair, she was looking dubiously at her reflection in the mirror when Belle arrived.

"I would never have bought something like this on my own, Belle," she said. "It seems a little, I don't know, blatant? I feel like bait on a hook, I'm not used to this."

Belle brushed her own skirt into shape with her hands. Her dress was a similar design, although the neckline was much lower. The background was mid-blue, and the design was a mad riot of different flower types and colours.

"I know, but I think today's the perfect day to show you more of what choices you have available now. These are just right for the park, you'll see. We'll just be two women enjoying an afternoon's walk, so don't worry yourself. Are you ready?"

"We're going just like this? Do I need a coat, or a jacket, or something?"

"Not really. I've got my big bag, and I've put in a cardigan each in case the air is a bit fresh after the rain, together with our umbrellas, though I don't really think we'll need those. You'll need your shoulder bag, of course."

Each inspected the other's outfit. They looked like a pair of exquisitely wrapped sweets and both had made an effort with their make-up and hair. Gradually, both became aware that a current was circulating between them and their eyes locked together. The silence was only broken by the sound of barely controlled breathing. Belle finally broke eye contact.

"Damn," she breathed. "Come on, let's get out of here before I do something neither of us would regret."

With bare arms to the shoulder, visible knees, and a skirt which hardly made contact with her legs, Marion felt almost naked as they made their way down in the lift. It was the least she had ever worn outside of her own front door and she had to work to control her breathing. Belle knocked on the Concierge's door and let them in to his office.

"Service, Arthur."

"Service, Citizen Marchand."

"My guest Citizen Hillier here has had an unfortunate change of circumstances. Her apartment block has been closed because of a Proctor operation, and I've decided that she should come and live with me. We work together, on the same shifts, so it seems appropriate. It's likely that this will become a permanent arrangement."

Marion noticed that Belle was stating facts, not asking if a relocation was possible. Now understanding who Belle was, she realised that despite her apparent reluctance over her position, she was quite accustomed to throwing her weight around and getting what she wanted.

"So," she continued, "Can you deal with the transfer, or do I have to go to the Tenancy Committee?" As the Concierge hesitated, she added, "Or do I have to go to State Security?"

"No, no, citizen," the man replied hurriedly. "I'm sure we can make the arrangements from here." He looked at the way the two women were dressed and said, "I assume you're just going out for a walk? I'll check what needs to be done and have everything ready for you to approve by the time you return. Oh, I'll need the citizen's card for a moment now so that I can access her current residency records."

The two entered the park through the security turnstile and were immediately standing in between the four statues.

"These were the original studies that Olano did before he started on the big statues at the bottom end of Victory Park," Belle said conversationally. "I think they're more lifelike than the big ones, I prefer them. These look like real people."

"Did you meet any of the others?" Marion asked.

"I did meet all of them, though I was quite young when they were all politically active. I was only four when Bergstrom was assassinated, for example. As people, I don't remember them that much."

They stood in front of her father's statue. "He was a good father," she said. "I wouldn't care to pass judgement on what he had to do during The Uprising, but I don't have anything to complain about so far as family matters are concerned. I was twelve when he died."

Marion knew that Belle's mother must have been General Marchand's second wife, his first having been killed during the fighting. He had been in his late fifties when he remarried.

"Do you think he would have approved of what you're doing now?" she asked.

Belle shrugged. "We live in a different world. If you mean my choice of employment, then probably. If you're referring to my choice of partner, then probably not."

Partner. Another word that Marion had been mentally avoiding. The sound of it moved her, though, as it meant that what was happening now was real, that Belle wanted her, wanted to keep her. They walked down the avenue and out of the shade of the trees, into the strong afternoon sunshine. After a hundred metres or so Belle stopped and turned to look at Marion.

"How do you feel now, dressed like that?"

Marion felt the sun on her legs and her bare arms, felt the breeze ruffling the skirt and blowing wisps of her hair up. She gently brushed her fingertips on the soft fabric and smiled.

"You're full of surprises today, Belle Marchand. I feel... free. I feel like a bird. The sensation is, to use an over-used word, indescribable. This is an entirely unexpected bonus. I could very definitely get used to being dressed like this."

"I told you," Belle said knowingly. "There are numerous benefits to being female." She caught hold of Marion's hand. "Come on. If we take this path to the right, and then angle back up to the trees, there's a cafe where we can have a drink and sit and be admired."

Marion was still mulling over Belle's last comment when the other caught her hand and led off along a diverging path. This followed the contour of the hill along until it entered a small, widely-spaced grove of trees. The sudden shadow made Marion briefly shiver before Belle struck off diagonally up the hill on a much narrower track. Eventually they reached the double ring of trees again and walked a very short distance along the wide path between them, until they came to a large open space.

They had reached the main entry point where people from Old Town would enter the park. There were some small shops there on either side of the gateway, set against the old brick wall, selling snacks, souvenirs and other park-related items. Belle headed for one labelled "Gelati. Caffe. Italian Ice-Cream. Snacks."

"Hello?"

A thin, older man with greying hair bustled out, a cloth over his arm. He did a double-take as he caught sight of Belle.

"E? Signorina Isabella? 'Appy to see you again, not see you since last summer, eh?"

"Luigi, you old bandit. Yes, it's been too long, you know how busy I am. But I'm here now, and we want some of your delicious coffee, please."

"Oh," he said with curious eyes, "and 'oo is your fren' then? She as pretty as you. Will she make an ol' man 'appy?"

Belle grinned at the old man. "Keep your hands off her, I know what Italian men are like. Allow me to present Marion Hillier, my new partner. She works in the facility with me."

Luigi's face showed outrage. "You 'ave a signora for a partner? Is good, but not as good as a proper signore. Per'aps you and your fren' make Luigi 'appy together?"

Marion blushed the red of her dress at the exchange, even though she suspected neither party was serious about the suggestion. Belle on the other hand sighed.

"Luigi," she said more seriously, "it really isn't that simple, unfortunately. Marion here is a very special person, for a whole number of reasons. One day, I may tell you the story, if you'll treat us to one of your famous family lunches."

"Is a promise. I fetch coffees for you, you find table."

Here, in the break in the trees and with the wall at their backs, it was quite warm as they sat in the sun at one of the outdoor tables. Soon, Luigi returned with a tray of drinks plus some small biscotti, which he placed on the table before sitting facing them. He had obviously been thinking while making the drinks. He examined Marion closely, making her uncomfortable.

"Luigi remember case in news on video, signore made into signora in facility, ten days past, maybe fourteen? Luigi add two and two, do he make four?"

It was plain from the looks on their faces that he had worked it out. Belle nodded reluctantly.

"Yes, you do make four. But Luigi, tell no-one, okay? Not even your ever-expanding family."

He shook his head. "No, is told in confidence. Luigi can do that." He looked at Marion again, appraising her differently this time. "Luigi not guess you not signora, only by what signorina Isabella say today. You very pretty, like signorina Isabella. Sight of you make ol' man very 'appy." He grinned, then looked to one side. "Scuse, signora, signora. I have other customer."

"What's this signorina Isabella business, then?" Marion asked as the proprietor bustled away.

"More of my childhood," replied Belle. "We often came here when I was a young girl, to get ice-creams and such. Although I told him I wanted to be called Belle, he wouldn't do it. I used to stamp my foot and go red in the face, but he persisted. In the end I just had to accept it. He didn't mean anything nasty by it, it's just his upbringing, I guess."

As they sipped their drinks Marion became aware that they were attracting attention from those who passed by. Men of all ages gave them long looks, and the women were almost as attentive.

"Get used to it, love," Belle advised. "They mean nothing by it, and we're giving them a free show. We may get the odd brave soul who wants to try his luck, but we can usually fend them off without it getting unpleasant."

"'Usually'?"

"Most women know how to throw water on the flames. We'll teach you how to react, and what's the best thing to say if it ever gets to that point."

"And if it doesn't?" said Marion, quietly. "There's always one who won't be put off."

Belle shrugged. "Well, in that case there's always Shepherd training. I would consider myself to have failed if it ever got to that point, though. Most people are reasonable about these things."

They sat in the sunshine and sipped their drinks, taking in the view of the park as it swept down the hill before them. Marion gradually realised that the attention she was getting wasn't personal at all, but merely what each man or woman automatically did when a new person entered their line of sight. Sitting at a table in brightly-coloured dresses would certainly draw anyone's attention, but after giving the two women the once-over, the viewer's attention often switched abruptly to another person who had come into view. Marion was somewhat startled to realise that she actually wanted passers-by to approve of her, and she subtly adjusted her sitting position to make her features stand out.

"I wondered how long it would take," murmured Belle.

"What?" said Marion, although she knew exactly what Belle was referring to.

"You. You're beginning to like the attention, aren't you? I saw you shifting in your seat."

"I never thought I would ever hear myself saying this, but yes. If I'm to be a woman, then I have to display to the public what the public expects to see. However, I certainly didn't expect myself to actually like doing it. It gives me a strange kind of feedback... their approval of what they think I am, seems to make me want more of it. Funny," she continued, "if you'd asked me seven months ago to do something like this, I'd probably have cut my own throat to avoid having to do it. But, having at least some of the right equipment," her gaze lowered to her breasts, "means my whole point of view has changed. I am, to my own amazement, beginning to enjoy this."

Belle's hand snaked out and grasped Marion's, and she gave Marion an encouraging smile. "It looks as if you're adjusting quite well, doesn't it? Most of what you're doing should soon become automatic, after you've done it a few times. Mind you, we shouldn't rush things, and there's still a heck of a lot you have to discover."

"If the last couple of days is any sample, I'm all for it," replied Marion. "But yes, I do realise that there's many a trap for the unwary. I still have to give it all my full attention at the moment."

After they had been sitting there a while the clouds started to thicken and the heat began to go out of the air. Belle looked at her timepiece and decided it was time they returned to the Enclave to see if the residency application had been sorted out. She paid Luigi and they started off back along the tree-lined path.

"I'll have to learn to keep my mouth shut," Belle commented as they walked away.

"Why? Because Luigi figured it out? I shouldn't think so."

"Why do you say that, then?"

"Because he's known you a very long time, and he knows where you work and what you do. It's natural he'd draw conclusions. I think someone who doesn't know you that well is not going to be able to work it out unless you tell them a lot more. I think my secret's safe enough with you."

They stopped under the edge of the trees to put on their cardigans, and Marion almost lost it completely then. The feel of the ultra-soft wool against her arms as she pulled the garment on caused her to close her eyes and sway alarmingly.

"Marion! What's the problem? Are you unwell?"

"Ooh. No," she said, opening her eyes, but staring unfocused at Belle. "I'm all right, I think. It's just the sensation of this wool against my skin, it was unexpected." She shook her head to clear it. "Oh, my. I am in a bad way, aren't I? The feel of this cardigan is just so sensational. Talk about traps for the unwary."

Marion arranged the cardigan over her breasts without fastening it. As it was one of Belle's, it hung loosely, but that was probably a good thing considering. Belle picked up her now-empty bag and they continued along the path.

"What are these made of, anyway?"

"Mine is merino, yours is cashmere," Belle replied. "I'm not surprised you came over all wobbly. I like wearing that one myself, but it goes better with your dress colour."

They pushed their way through the turnstile and waved at the gate guard before heading for the entrance to Block Four. The Concierge looked up when Belle opened his door.

"Service, citizens. Your application seems to be in order, so if I can ask you to use your cards to authorise it, I'll get things under way."

Belle and Marion did what was necessary and then made their way back to the apartment.

"So, you've finally got what you wanted," Marion remarked as Belle shut the door.

Belle winced. "Don't say it like that, love, I'm really really not trying to force myself on you." She paused, an uncertain look on her face. "Am I?"

"If you are, it's with my full blessing," Marion replied as she put down her bag. "Sophia said I needed an anchor, and you tick a whole load of boxes at the moment." She lowered her eyes. "You push a whole load of my buttons, too. I'm happy to be here, Belle, and I'm happy to be with you."

Belle gave a smile. "And I'm happy to hear that, but I have to remember not to crowd you. You've been given a chance to sample a unique experience, and I don't want you to lose that. Now, if we're going to be going out for dinner, we can just about get away with keeping these dresses on, but if we're staying in, we'll want to take them off. What do you think?"

"If it's all the same to you, and you can feed us, I think I'd rather stay in this evening. We've been out most of the day, and I've been to a lot of new places, dealt with lots of new situations, and met lots of new people. I just want to relax for the rest of the day, if you don't mind."

"That's fine by me. What kind of meal do you want? Fancy or simple?"

"Keep it simple, I think. Especially with that bandaged hand of yours."

They changed into more casual attire and went to the kitchen to choose a meal, deciding on chicken and vegetables in a cream sauce with spaghetti. Marion did most of the preparation to avoid getting Belle's hand near raw food. It was quick to prepare and Marion set the table while Belle cooked. After they had finished eating and clearing away, they sat together on the settee and talked.

"You're going to have to tell me a little more about yourself, after today's revelations," Marion said.

Belle nodded, her eyes gained a faraway look and she started speaking about her childhood in the Enclave. Marion, trying hard not to be in Counsellor mode but not entirely succeeding, kept the conversation light but informative. She knew that at some point in the future of their relationship, she would have to detail her own past to Belle, but today was Belle's day.

Eventually time passed on and they decided it was time to retire, especially as Marion would be working the following day. Entering the main bedroom, they helped each other undress.

"Shower? You go first, I'll tidy these away."

Marion climbed into the largish shower in the bathroom. She had never seen one that had glass walls or exposed piping before. She started soaping herself down as the cubicle filled with steam. The door to the shower suddenly opened, allowing a waft of cold air to enter.

"Move over, then."

Hands gently pushed Marion over, then began helping with the soap. They began soaping each other and the situation deteriorated from there. Squeals turned into shrieks and giggles, while the atmosphere changed from cleansing to horseplay to something more erotic. Marion discovered three new uses for a loofah. After some time Belle decided that they had wasted enough water and the two emerged, flushed and panting but clean.

"That was the best fun I've had in ages," Belle said as they finished drying themselves.

"I'd have to agree with you there," Marion replied. "But if we keep that up, we'll probably double the water usage for the whole block."

"Don't worry," Belle responded, discarding her towel, "we don't have to use water all the time. Come here," she said, grabbing Marion's towel and flinging it onto her own. She and Marion locked bodies and the assembly made it's way to the bed, falling on it.

"Oof! More?"

"More."

When they finally separated Marion remarked, "We'll have to have another shower, now."

Belle's eyes gleamed. "Is that an invitation?"

"Please! You might be a sex-crazed Amazon, but I'm only human."

They lay in each other's arms, happy and content. Belle sat up.

"I've had a thought. I might have a way to improve your enjoyment of our sessions." She got off the bed and made her way to a cupboard door, opening it to show the row of drawers within. She rummaged about in one of the lower drawers and came up with a shiny object.

"Ta-da! What do you think?"

It looked like an anti-aircraft shell, or possibly a giant lipstick. The thing was chrome-shiny, about twenty centimetres long and tapered to a smooth point at one end.

"Sometimes a girl has to amuse herself, especially working the way we do. I had hoped, now that you've entered my life, that Citizen Silver here would become redundant, but it occurred to me that I might be able to use it on you instead."

Belle approached the bed and climbed back on it, handing the device to Marion.

"When I talked to Sophia about you, she told me that despite appearances the underlying muscle structure of men and women was broadly the same, although of course you don't have anything like the womb in there. But she said that it may be possible to stimulate you the same way I can do myself. Would you like me to try?"

Marion handed the thing back after inspecting it. "It can't hurt, can it. Go ahead, but don't try to keep going if it's obvious it's not working."

"I noticed yesterday that you spread your legs when we got excited. That's a woman's response, which makes me hopeful." Marion stretched out on the bed and spread her legs, noticing that the extra muscle on her rump tilted her pelvis upwards. Her position felt natural. Belle switched Citizen Silver on and then leant over Marion to kiss her on the mouth. Marion's arms came up to hold Belle.

Belle touched the device between Marion's legs behind her testicles, and the contact with the vibrating point made Marion feel as though a small electric current was going through her. Belle gently moved the point up and down between Marion's legs. Much to her surprise, Marion felt a pulse go through her lower body, as her muscles reacted to the stimulus. Soon a train of disorganised pulses began, spreading out from the point of contact across her pelvis like ripples in a pond.

Belle pressed a little harder, and suddenly the pulses synchronised, and a huge wave of exquisite sensation engulfed Marion's lower body. Further, larger waves followed, and Marion could only let out a weak groan as the climax took over her whole body, a sensation she had never experienced before. As the orgasm faded, she opened her eyes and smiled at Belle, pulling her into a close embrace, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.

"Thank you, dearest, thank you so much," she murmured. "That was beautiful, it was just what I needed. Thank you." She kissed Belle tenderly again.

At some point during the evening's activities, something had changed deep inside Marion, so deep that even her subconscious would not notice it immediately, but something so profound that it would affect her for the rest of her life. A sense of rightness, of satisfaction, of contentment, of fulfilment, of security. A sense that she was in the right place at the right time.

This is where I want to be. This is who I want to be. This is what I want to be. I am Marion. I am a woman. Marlon is in my past, and he is what made me what I am, but I am not him, not any longer. I shall cherish his memories, but I am a different person. I am with a good woman who wants me for a partner. She looks after me, does good things for me, does good things to me.

This is where I want to be.

Well, finally! Expect to see these released on about a weekly schedule. Ish. I had intended to do six parts in this story arc, and I'm already up to seven and only about two-thirds through... This short part is a sort of memory-refresher, so you don't have to go back and read all the previous parts. Not that I'm stopping you...

The Instructor taking the Shepherds Training Course finds out about an unusual member of her class, and Belle discovers something unpleasant back at the Enclave.

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

Citizen Instructor Minette Parkes frowned as she watched her ten charges exercise. They were divided into pairs and were re-acquainting themselves with the unarmed combat skills which had been taught to them years previously during their period of national service. Something was off, and she couldn't put her finger on it.

Each of them should have been able to do the basic moves that they had been taught, but for some reason it didn't seem to be working some of the time. True, army service had been a while ago for some of them, that was the reason for this afternoon's session, to find out what each of them were still capable of. But... something was definitely wrong, and she couldn't understand it. Some of the moves which definitely should have resulted in a throw didn't, and some of the defences which should have prevented an attack shouldn't. What was wrong? She blew her whistle, and the gi-clad class separated and stood.

"Okay, citizens, move round one, and try your moves on someone else. I'm noticing some weight issues here, let's see if another partner makes a difference."

It didn't, of course. It left Citizen Parkes even more puzzled. Eventually she decided that she'd seen enough, and called a halt to the exercise.

"I think we've done enough, citizens, for this afternoon. I've noticed that some of you aren't quite as fit as we would like, and some of you are definitely rusty on the self-defence moves, although I know it's been years in some cases since you've practised. Why don't you all go and get a shower and changed, and I'll meet you all back in the training room first thing tomorrow morning."

The sweating citizens, some of them nursing bruises, walked off to get changed back into their uniforms, and Parkes watched them go. It has to be her, doesn't it? She even walks oddly. She's the one that turned up this morning in a dress.

"Citizen Hillier?" she called. "If I might have a word?"

"Service, Instructor? Is there a problem? I thought I didn't do too badly with my exercises, even though it's been, what, eight years since I've done anything like that."

The woman turned and walked back towards her, her face open, her gait still wrong.

"I can't get over the feeling that there's something different about you. I'm sorry, but it might be something that would be unacceptable in a Shepherd. I can't quite work you out."

Marion smiled. "I quite understand, Instructor. Fortunately, I'm not going to become a Shepherd, I just need to follow the training to have the necessary background for my job here."

The two began to walk towards the exit of the gym.

"That's another thing," Parkes said, "I don't really understand what a Counsellor is. I've never heard of such a position in a Facility before."

"That's because I'm going to be the first. It's an experimental post, but in the five weeks I've been here, I've already made such a difference that the position is likely to be made permanent. I've been keeping to the quieter Decks so far, though, and it's essential for me to understand how the main Decks operate and what I'm likely to face before I get set loose on them."

"Five weeks? I was led to understand that you've been here seven months. Or were you doing a different job before you became a Counsellor?"

Marion gave a wry smile. "You could say that. It's... complicated."

"You seem to walk differently," Parkes continued, "and the martial arts work didn't seem to function correctly. Do you have some kind of disability? Not that that would necessarily disqualify you, of course."

"Well, my hands and feet are too big and my arms are a little long, I suppose. As for my walk..."

Marion paused. Obviously she had to keep her past quiet, but equally obviously there were going to be times when her history needed to be told. A number of people in Female Offender Containment Facility Five already knew, of course, and this Instructor would probably not pass the word around. Probably. It would be better to let Sophia make the final judgement.

"My apologies, Instructor. My situation is quite complicated, and I'm not sure if I'm allowed to tell you much more. I'll need to get in touch with my superior and ask her. If you're not in a hurry to leave the facility, why don't I meet you here after we've changed and I'll tell you then whether I'm allowed to pass certain things on."

"Even if I was planning to leave, you've intrigued me sufficiently that I couldn't possibly pass up such a chance. I'll meet you here, then, when we're changed."

True to her word, Marion reappeared twenty minutes later, refreshed and wearing the dress.

"I've spoken to Sophia, my boss, and she asked me to take you up to her, if you can spare the time."

"Is that your usual uniform for your job?" Parkes asked. "I've never seen anything like it in a Facility. I understood only detainees wore dresses, and staff all wore shirts and trousers."

"As I said," Marion replied as they headed for the lifts, "I'm not supposed to be a Shepherd. If I wore a uniform like a Shepherd's it would create a barrier, and nobody would speak to me. I have to be able to relate to the detainees, so this is a compromise." She smiled at a memory. "When I first started, I had a trusty's dress, with white cuffs. It caused such chaos that we had to abandon it after the first day."

"Oh? I don't see why that would be."

"In the staff canteen? In the Shepherds' locker room? Trust me, it wasn't a good idea."

"Ah. I see your point."

The two made their way to Sophia's office and her assistant showed them into the meeting room.

"Joanne, if Belle should turn up looking for me, can you ask her to wait? I shouldn't be too long."

Sophia appeared after a few seconds and shook hands with Parkes.

"I understand you've started training my Counsellor and you've noticed some of her physical differences," she said.

"I wouldn't exactly call it that, Director, she just looked odd doing the self defence evaluation," Parkes replied. "I asked her afterwards and she suggested that there was something I should be informed about, assuming you cleared it for her."

Sophia nodded.

"What I am about to tell you is strictly privileged information. You must not speak of it to anyone else, even if they tell you that they know what you are talking about. The sole exception might be Marion's partner Belle Marchand, who works here as a Deck Shepherd. Other people in the facility, quite a few of them in fact, also know the truth but I know they will all keep the secret. Do I have your word?"

"Why, yes, Director, of course."

"Marion was sent here seven months ago as the result of an unfortunate set of circumstances, combined with some poor decisions by a local Justiciar, followed by some malicious action by my predecessor which regrettably I was not able to prevent in time," she explained. "I'd rather not go into specific details, most of them are sealed in any case."

"You mean, she was a detainee? How is it possible that she is employed here now, then?"

"She was exonerated fully when, through her own efforts combined with those of the Shepherds on her Deck and some detainee friends, the truth became known. Unfortunately, by that time the malicious action my predecessor took had gone too far, and Marion was left much as you see her now."

"Forgive me, Director, I'm missing something here. Malicious action? Has Counsellor Hillier been injured in any way?"

"Yes and no. When the Counsellor originally arrived here, he was a Machine Operator First Class called Marlon Hillier. A man."

"A man?" Parkes looked sceptically at Marion, who returned her gaze. "That's not possible, the State does not make mistakes like that."

"Oh yes," Marion said, "It's possible all right. It's a long story involving a Proctor who got shot on the wrong day, a Justiciar who thought I was a woman masquerading as a man, and a Medical Director who hated men. Suffice it to say that I didn't look anything like this when I came in."

"I still find it difficult... apart from the walk, there's absolutely nothing that would give... are you completely female now?"

"No, not quite. Things get complicated here. I'm genetically male, physically I have breasts, testicles and a penis, I'm socially female, and legally male. Mentally I'm not sure what I am. Bit of a mess, I'm afraid."

"I'm having some trouble understanding this. You were a man, and yet you were sent to a female facility? Actually, I'm having trouble envisaging you as a man, if you'll excuse me. I don't see how that's possible, you don't look as if you can possibly have been anything other than a woman."

Marion and Sophia looked at each other. Marion shrugged. Sophia turned to the terminal on the meeting room table and activated it.

"This is Marion's file I'm pulling up," she explained. "I'll show you the ID shot they took when they inducted him here." The him sounded so wrong when Sophia said it.

Parkes took a good look at the displayed picture, looked at Marion and then sat down abruptly in the nearest chair.

"Oh, my."

Marion gave a wry smile as she took another chair. "I heard that expression quite a lot when I first came here. Sophia, I think she needs to know the full story, or at least as much detail as we can legally tell her."

Parkes listened in silence as the two recounted yet again the events which had led Marlon Hillier to be sent to a female facility and to be changed against his will into a part-woman. She only interrupted once.

"Six months? It took that long for the mistake to be rectified?"

"It was six months before anybody realised that a mistake had been made at all," corrected Sophia. "Only the fact that a court official had been detained on the same Deck as Marion who was able to provide professional advice, made it possible to work out finally what was going on. And even then, we had problems with my predecessor."

At the conclusion of the story Parkes put her head in her hands.

"What a mess!" She raised her head to look at Marion. "And yet you seem so composed, so capable. What a dreadful thing to have happen to you, and yet you seem to have adapted like a duck to water."

"In the facility, yes," Marion replied. "Outside things are not so straightforward. I have had five weeks to learn thirty years of womanhood. Fortunately, I have made a large number of good friends while I've been here, both sides of the fence, and they are all willing to help me through the difficult process, to adapt to something that's just second nature to everyone else in here."

"Well, if you need anything from me, Counsellor, I'll be happy to oblige." Parkes thought for a moment. "Thinking professionally for a moment, it occurs to me that there are a couple of things which are relevant to our current circumstances. Firstly, you have those down there, are they still sensitive?"

"Yes, Instructor, although possibly not as much as a full male's would be. I don't really know."

"Hm. Nevertheless, you have a potential weakness which none of the other staff have, so I will try and make sure you don't get hurt during the rest of the training. Rest assured," she added seeing the look on their faces, "I do not intend to say anything that would indicate that you are physically different to anyone else here. Secondly, I would guess that you aren't the only transgender person in the facility."

Marion looked startled, but Sophia just nodded.

"Yes, we have two such detainees in here. One never made it to puberty before changing, and the other did it in her late teens. Both voluntary cases, of course, not like Marion here."

"None on the staff, then?"

"No. The position is quite awkward, bearing in mind the restriction on only females working here. And before you ask, Marion has a Certificate of Exemption as she is still legally male. If she stays here, it may encourage the powers-that-be to have a look at the rules, but I'm not holding my breath."

"Yes, of course. I must find out more about transgender citizens, my education seems to be woefully lacking in that area, but it could be that they might need different treatment to other detainees in a female facility. Or, indeed, we may one day have transgender staff I will come in contact with, other than the Counsellor here.

"My final point is that I know nothing about the duties of a Counsellor, and that this may have a bearing on what I tell the others in this training group. For example, I've never seen a facility staff member wearing a dress, and Marion's presence and attire is distracting some of the others. If I - or Marion, for that matter - was able to explain what she did it would probably settle everyone else down."

"That's fine with me, Instructor," Marion replied. "I can give you a brief idea of what I've been up to now, and then if you give me five minutes tomorrow morning I should be able to satisfy everyone's curiosity."

Sophia added, "For the transgender business, of necessity we two have had to become at least partial experts, so I suggest an hour or so later on in the week will bring you up to speed. Will that suffice?"

"I would think so. So, what does a Counsellor do, then?"

"Essentially, I just go and talk to people," Marion explained. "Because I don't look like a Shepherd, I find that they are more likely to open up to me. I can find out if they are being treated properly, or if there's some difficulty with their family outside, or, well, anything at all they might want to tell me. There are certain things I can fix, or that I can tell to people who can do the fixing. Sometimes they just want to talk in an unpressurised way. A lot of them don't trust other detainees, so they retreat into a shell. Sometimes it's just a friendly chat."

"Oh, I see. What an interesting idea, when did you have that?"

"I didn't. While I was detained in here on E Deck, I just started doing it naturally. In fact, I was doing it even before the other detainees ever found out I was actually a man. Once the whole truth became known, I wondered what I was going to do with my life, because I realised I couldn't go back to my old factory job. My senior Deck Shepherd suggested that I try this full time when I was released, and the Controller agreed. It made a lot of sense, since I had no knowledge of life outside as a woman at that stage, and it would allow me to adapt gradually while doing something useful in an environment which I knew and understood."

"Do you think that your idea works as well as you expected?"

"Oh, yes!" put in Sophia. "She's only been doing it for five weeks and she's made quite a difference in the parts of the facility which she's been permitted to go in. I would also add that she's available to talk to staff as well. After all the mess that got her into this situation, this job is one thing that's worked out extremely well."

When they finally left the meeting room, Belle was waiting in the front office with Joanne and another woman. She hopped to her feet.

"Citizen Instructor, this is Belle Marchand, my partner." Marion still got a kick out of saying that. "She's a Shepherd on the Deck where I was detained. Belle, this is Instructor Parkes, who's taking the Shepherd Training course."

"Service, Instructor."

"Service, Shepherd."

"This is your first day back on the Deck, isn't it, Belle?" Sophia asked in passing. "How's the hand?"

Belle held up her left hand to show the red weal filling the palm and running up the index finger.

"It's healing very well, thank you. I don't have a problem with QuickHeal like some. I've been careful today, and I will be all this week, but by next week it should be as good as new."

Sophia nodded. "Good. I'm sorry, I haven't introduced some of you to our latest member of staff. Marion, Minette, this is Doctor Karen de Jong, who's essentially filling the hole made when I got pushed up to take the Director's place. She'll work alongside Alison. Karen, this is Instructor Minette Parkes, who's here taking the current Shepherd training course, and Counsellor Marion Hillier, who we discussed this morning."

"Service to you both," the doctor replied. "I'm sure we'll come across one another soon enough."

"Service, Doctor." Parkes said. Marion nodded and leaned forward to shake Karen's hand.

"Well, I guess it's time for all of us to go home," Sophia concluded. "See you all in the morning."

On the tram home, Belle asked, "What were you doing in the meeting room? Telling your Instructor what happened?"

"Yes, we had to, the exercises in the gym didn't work out the way she thought they would, because of my different skeletal structure. And she wanted to find out what a Counsellor was, and why I was wearing a dress."

"Oh. Did you satisfy her?"

"Only by telling her practically everything. If my position becomes permanent, she'll have to deal with more Counsellors in other facilities, so it made sense. She hasn't any knowledge of transgender matters either, so Sophia and I are going to spend a hour or so going over what we've learned."

"So, who's on your intake, then? Anyone of interest?"

"Only me," Marion joked. "We've got four Deck Shepherds, two Site Security, a medical orderly, someone who's going to Stores, a Chef Instructor for the kitchen and me. A couple of the Deck Shepherds are big bruisers, one's over two metres tall. Most of the rest seem to be unexceptional."

"There has to be something, otherwise they wouldn't have got this far in the induction process. Two metres, hey? I bet you never managed to throw her."

"No, but she couldn't throw me either. It seems my weight is distributed differently, and people take a stance based on what they see. They see a woman, and it doesn't quite work. I think Parkes is going to have a look at that tomorrow afternoon. After all, there are apparently two detainees in the facility who have similar skeletons to mine," she gave a meaningful glance at Belle, "so the Shepherds need to be able to cope with them as well."

They got off the tram in Old Town and made their way back into the Enclave, waving as usual at the gate guard. On their way into Block Four Belle called into the concierge's office.

"I'm sorry, Citizen, your application to have your friend live with you hasn't been accepted, but it hasn't been rejected either. It's been put into some kind of pending status I've never seen before. I don't know why, there's no reason given."

"Thank you, Arthur. I can access the whole file from my terminal upstairs, can't I?"

"Yes, although you can't amend anything from there."

"I wasn't intending to. I just wanted to find out if there are any names on the file I could call to find out what's going on. This whole thing has begun to annoy me somewhat, it's been delay after delay."

"Yes," the man said, but the look in his eyes indicated that he had expected things not to go smoothly. "I'll make sure you can access the file, citizen, and I'll notify you directly if there's any change."

"Thank you, Arthur," Belle said again. "Come on, Marion."

"Service, citizens," the man said as they walked out of the office.

"Now, Belle, keep calm," Marion soothed as they walked to the lifts. "You know just how perverse bureaucracy can be in the State."

"I know," Belle replied, "but it always seems to be me, doesn't it?"

"Not really, I bet everyone says the same. And you didn't get mistaken for a woman and locked away for six months, did you?"

Belle turned to Marion and sighed. "You're right, of course. Still, I'm going to get you here if it's the last thing I do."

"Hah. Wouldn't be much point then, would there?"

Once inside Belle's grace-and-favour apartment the two changed into more comfortable clothes and then made themselves an evening meal. While it was cooking, and with Marion minding the stove, Belle went into the office and attempted to find out what was going on with Marion's residency application. She came back with a sour look on her face.

"What?"

"It's not you," came the grumpy reply, "it's me. It seems that because I'm not one of the several categories of citizen who qualify for residency in the Enclave, the question of your joining me here has caught them by surprise. Almost as much surprise as finding out that you are legally male, by the way. The situation is, they are stalling until there's a full meeting of the Tenancy Committee, which could be months away, and I'm told they'll probably say no at that time."

"What do you mean, you don't qualify? Oh, of course, it's because of your father, isn't it? In effect, you're here only because of him. And you told me a while back they didn't want you to move out as they would deem it an insult."

"Yes. So what it amounts to is, they won't let you in, and they won't let me out."

"I'm sure a good lawyer could have a field day with that. I know! Why don't we ask Talya? I won't be able to get up to the Deck tomorrow, but I'm sure Elena wouldn't mind you tapping her for advice. Oh. Does Talya know who you are?"

"Not officially, no. At least, I don't think so, but knowing what I now do about her I wouldn't be surprised to learn that she'd found out somehow. She can make more sense of the facility network than anyone I know."

Marion smiled. "You are forgetting Trish." Trish was one of the ancillary staff who made sure that the facility systems, both hardware and software, continued to function properly. "Although, I'm not sure Trish knows much about the legal side. Have a word with Talya, let me know tomorrow evening what she finds out."

The two ate a quiet meal and then spent a subdued evening before turning in. The news had definitely affected Belle adversely, and Marion hoped that their usual bedroom activities would take her mind off the problem. Belle was first in the shower, and Marion joined her after a few moments.

"Ow!"

"What? I barely touched you. Let me look. Ooh, you've got a significant bruise there."

"Where?"

"Turn around. There, on your right thigh. You've another one up there, on your left arm. What on earth were you doing? Practising riot prevention? Or just rioting?"

"Just basic holds and throws. You know, the standard stuff you get taught in national service. Not that most of it worked, for me." Marion cautiously tested the discoloured areas with her hand.

"Ah. The skeleton business you mentioned? I wouldn't have thought that would make that much of a difference, myself. There's another bruise, back of your right shoulder."

"Apparently it's a matter of perception. What have you done with the soap?"

There were no extra activities that evening. Belle had decided that Marion's bruising would make their usual play too uncomfortable, if not actually painful, and so they just cuddled gently until they faded away into sleep.

After the trainee Shepherds tour the facility, Marion finally learns what happened at the accommodation block and remembers someone who might be able to help her residency problem.

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

In the morning Belle seemed to have recovered from the fears of the previous evening and Marion said as much as they ate breakfast.

"Yes," Belle said. "I shouldn't have allowed it to affect me so personally. It's just stupid bureaucracy, after all, I've been fighting that all my life. We'll figure out a way, we always do. I'll have a word with Talya as you suggested."

But Marion could see that Belle was still disturbed, even though she was trying to make light of the situation. They caught the tram in, and Marion caught sight of Elena in the locker room when they were changing. She went over and had a quiet word with her about Belle, without describing the entire situation. Then she hurried off to the meeting room where the other trainee Shepherds were meeting.

"Service, citizens, please sit down," said Parkes. "This morning we are going to take a tour of the facility, so that you can become familiar with the layout and how each department fits in. But before we do that, I have a couple of things to mention.

"Firstly, your performance yesterday afternoon in the gym was not very good, and we will have to take some action to remedy that. Some of you haven't used those skills for some years, and it shows. Some of the holds and throws did not allow for bodies of different sizes with varying weight distributions. Some of you are just plain unfit. When you all did national service, those you were with were all of about the same age and fitness, however, the population in a facility is of different ages, builds and fitness to what you may have become used to. We need to remedy that.

"Secondly, I was as surprised as some of you were by the presence of Counsellor Hillier in our group yesterday, partly on account of her unusual uniform. Hers is a new, experimental appointment, and if successful we will start seeing Counsellors in all facilities. I will ask her to come forward and briefly explain what she is and how her position functions."

Marion stepped to the front and, without mentioning her detention, briefly explained what her job entailed. There were a few questions, mostly answered without difficulty, and she sat down again. Parkes then used a projector to display the layout of the H-shaped building, explaining the peculiar floor lettering system. Once everyone said that they were familiar with the arrangement, she led the way out of the room and down to the ground floor.

"I know some of you are familiar with the layout of these buildings, or at least partly so, since some of you started here before this course began. I hope you'll bear with me as I go through my explanations. I would guess that there are parts of the building none of you will have been to, so you should all learn something," Parkes said.

The group murmured agreement, and she led them to the front of the building.

"We're on A Deck now, as you'd expect. The wing over to my left is also A Deck. Along there you will find the visiting areas. These consist of two large rooms where detainees who have the privilege can meet with any relatives or friends who are permitted to come, heavily supervised of course. There are two small suites as well, for the rare cases where a detainee is allowed intimate privilege with her partner. This is usually reserved for certain detainees with life sentences. Unlike in male facilities, the female partner is not permitted to bear children in these cases. Beyond those the whole floor is a gym for use by detainees on a rotation basis.

"On the other side of the entrance, this becomes F Deck. The whole of F Deck is the kitchen area for everyone in the building with the exception of those who use the Staff Canteen. Shall we go in?"

The group went through the double gate and past the lift shafts into a long open area full of people busily working. Most were wearing trusty brown but there were a small number of Shepherds and also some women wearing Chef's Whites. There was a considerable amount of noise and it was hot and humid.

"Serena," Parkes shouted to one of the group. "You'll probably be working in here when you've completed the course with me."

"Yes, Instructor," the woman replied, "I got shown in here the first day I came. I come from the Army Catering Corps, this looks all quite familiar to me."

"Shall we leave?" asked Parkes. "It's a little too noisy in here to talk comfortably."

Outside again she continued. "The kitchen provides breakfast, lunch and evening meal for all detainees and for most Shepherds and other staff who have to eat at their posts. The staff and trusties who run the kitchen also have to eat, but of course they can't eat at the same time as everyone else. This means that there's someone cooking something in the kitchen from about six in the morning to well after seven at night. Both staff and trusties have their own shift system which doesn't coincide with the standard hours most others here work to. A high proportion of the trusties here go on to jobs in the catering trade after being released."

She turned round and faced the main block.

"Right? Now, on to the main building. On your right is Reception, this is for staff and visitors. Detainees arrive by a rear entrance. Behind Reception are some rooms which get used for meetings, and these are also where detainees can consult with their legal representatives when face-to-face discussions are necessary. On your left are the Shepherds' locker room, the Staff Canteen and the second Shepherds' locker room. You know all about the locker rooms, of course, and I think you're all currently using the Canteen, am I right?"

There was a chorus of agreement accompanied by nods. Parkes led the way through A Deck to the rear. She turned off to the left at the end, bringing them into Stores.

"This is K Deck, and consists entirely of Stores. Service," she added to the woman behind the counter, explaining, "I'm Instructor Parkes, I'm taking the Shepherd training course and I'm just showing the current intake around, if that's acceptable."

"Service, Instructor. Of course, go ahead." Miranda gestured at the door at the end of the counter. "I don't think you'll get in the way of anything if you go through the department now." Miranda spotted Marion. "Service, Marion. How are things? How's Belle's hand?"

"Service, Miranda. Er, she's fine, thanks, I don't think we'd better hold up the Instructor, I'll drop by later."

This last exchange was observed with interest by the others in the group. Parkes led them through the doors into Stores proper. They entered a room which had floor-to-ceiling shelving packed with grey plastic crates Marion knew well. She guessed that the counter where she had originally been received was on the other side of the shelving.

"This is a holding area for all the belongings which a detainee has on them when they arrive, and anything else that arrives for them subsequently that they are not permitted while detained," explained Parkes.

She led them through another set of doors into a further cavern, this time filled with mesh shelving and rows upon rows of wardrobe rails, all filled with detainee clothing of every description. At the far end could be seen rails with grey Shepherd uniforms as well.

"I'll show you the machines that make the clothes in a minute, but it's not the policy of the State to manufacture fresh clothing for every new detainee, and detainees clothing requirements can change all the time according to what they are doing, how well they are eating, any long-term ailments, and, of course, the time of the month." Some of the group nodded. "So clothing not allocated to a specific person is kept here assuming that it's in good enough condition." She looked at the group. "Underwear is never reused, though, in case you're concerned. Shepherd's clothing generally isn't either, but some may be kept depending on circumstances." She indicated Marion. "I guess that the Counsellor's outfits aren't going to be passed on any time soon, though."

"Possibly, possibly not," Marion demurred. "I may end up with assistants here, my job is really too big for one person alone. And I feel I should warn you that there are others working here who feel that they would prefer a dress to shirt and trousers. I've had a number of enquiries." Several of the group suddenly acquired interested expressions, but Marion shook her head. "Sorry, no, I don't think anyone who works on the Decks other than my speciality is going to be allowed dresses. We'll have to see how my own experience pans out."

Parkes continued. "Everything in the facility is chipped, and that includes all clothing. That means that when you send it to be cleaned in the laundry, which will be our next department, it can find it's way back to you. So, on to the big machines." She pushed through the next pair of doors and revealed two immense machines which filled the far end of the Deck. These were familiar to Marion, since there had been similar machines in the factory where Marlon had worked. These could be used to fabricate almost anything non-metallic. Metal parts could be incorporated into items made by the machines but had to be manufactured using traditional methods. When everyone had followed Parkes and gathered round, she resumed.

"You don't have to worry about these machines, they just do their job and we use the things they create. This one on the left makes all the fabric clothing, according to computer patterns provided. With the exception of zip closures, it weaves entire garments at once without seams, in colours which define grades of detainee, and for staff, provides indicators of grade and department." She tapped the black sleeve cuff of the Shepherd standing closest to her.

"The other machine makes non-fabric items, for example the slippers worn by detainees, the shoes you're all wearing, and the utensils, cups, plates and trays used by the kitchens. That machine can also be used to make other items when necessary, for example to repair equipment damaged on the Decks."

"Instructor," one of the group asked, "what about electrical items?"

"Things like that, and computer equipment, your cuffs and weapons, are provided from a central factory and supplied on request to each facility. Stores keeps a supply of spares, naturally, but these machines don't make items like that - although it may be possible the one on the right could be so programmed if you knew what you were doing. I wouldn't know things like that, sorry."

She led the way out through a pair of doors on the other side of the Deck, and they ended up in the room with the clothes rails, but on the other side. Against the walls were some industrial machines, and they watched as a trusty used one of them to deftly insert a zip into the back opening of a pink detainee's dress and weld it into place.

"As you can see, some items need finishing, and that's all handled here. Occasionally, very occasionally, clothing can also be repaired here, although it can never be as strong as the original, so that's usually discouraged."

"I thought the clothing here was impossible to tear?" someone asked. "How is that possible, then?"

"Ah, well, you can't tear the fabric, it's true, but it will abrade over time, and if there's a sharp edge somewhere, the material can be parted if you're determined enough."

Through the next pair of doors, and Marion was in a familiar place.

"This is where detainees come to have clothing issued or replaced," Parkes said. Miranda was there and she explained how clothing got tagged and assigned. At the far end of the counter was the little room where Marion had been laser-measured. Of course, everyone in the group had used the room to be fitted for their uniforms, so they were familiar with it. Parkes led them out of Stores and into a covered area at the back of the facility. One wall consisted of roller shutters, with a pair of small doors to either side.

"This is where stores are delivered, and also where detainees arrive and depart. They're usually held here, each with a Site Security Shepherd, until Stores can process them one by one. Follow me through to P Deck, which is the laundry."

This Deck was also hot and steamy. It was full of trusties loading and emptying machines, and sorting items of clothing both dirty and clean.

"Every detention room has a chute leading to a basement collection system which delivers clothing to the far end of this Deck. Much of the cleaning process can't be automated that much so trusties are used extensively as you can see. Clean clothing can be returned to a detainee, released back to Stores, condemned if too worn or damaged, or in the case of staff, they can be put into a tagged sports bag and left on top of the appropriate locker."

As they made their way back into the loading bay, they discovered that a consignment of detainees had arrived and was being unloaded at that moment. One of them gave a despairing scream and broke free of the Shepherd controlling her, running towards the group, cuffed hands in front of her, hair flying behind. Noticing Marion, she changed direction and headed for her. The Shepherds behind her had their wands out in an instant, but couldn't use them for fear of hitting the group.

"Help me!" she cried. "I'm innocent! It's all been a mistake! I'm not supposed to be here!"

She cannoned into Marion, her expression at once frightened and desperate. Marion held on to her as the others in her group backed away. Two of the free Site Security Shepherds advanced towards Marion to retrieve their runaway. Marion held up a hand.

"Give me a minute," she said.

The Shepherds halted uncertainly. Although word of Marion's position and appearance had gone round the building, not all the staff had yet encountered her, and they were not sure what to do about a woman in a grey dress. They stopped, but kept their wands at the ready.

"You're safe here," she said to the woman quietly. "I don't know if you're really guilty or innocent, but whether you are or not, you'll be looked after properly here, I can assure you. It so happens that from time to time innocent people are sent here, I know that from personal experience." The woman looked at her with disbelief. "It's true," Marion confirmed with a nod. "Now, once you arrive here your case gets automatically put into appeal status, so the system will consider everything you have to say most carefully." They didn't in my case, but mine was exceptional. Wasn't it? "These people are called Shepherds, and they're called that because their job is to look after you while you're here, guide you and keep you safe. I want you to go with the Shepherd, and she'll look after you. You'll be put in a room of your own to start with, so you won't be subject to bullying or pressure or any of that. Can you do that for me?"

The woman licked her lips, and raised her cuffed hands to wipe the tears from her face.

"Who, who are you? You're not like them, are you?" she asked.

"No, I'm not. My name is Marion, and I'm Counsellor for this facility. Once you're settled in, I'll come and find you. It may take a few days, but I will, I promise. Then we can talk about your case in private."

"I - I will, Counsellor. This is all frightening, I've never been in such a place before."

"No, I know. What's your name, citizen?"

"Jeanette Sutton, Counsellor."

"Well, Citizen Sutton, the trick with the State is not to try and struggle against it because it will always win. What we have to do is to work within the system. There's almost always a way."

"Yes, Counsellor. But I don't even know why I'm here! It's all so confusing."

"I know, I know. Now, what's done is done. You're here. You'll have to go into the system before they let you out again. Let them process you, and then you'll find you have time to make your case. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Counsellor." The woman straightened and wiped her face again.

Marion raised one arm to the Shepherd who had let Citizen Sutton get away.

"You can come and retrieve your charge, Shepherd."

The other Shepherds lowered their wands. As the woman approached, Sutton turned and waited.

"Treat her with respect, Shepherd. She's still a citizen, and sometimes the State does make mistakes."

"Yes, Counsellor. Come and stand with me, citizen."

"I apologize for running away... Shepherd," the woman said. "I was frightened, I've never been in such a place before."

Both the Site Security Shepherds collecting detainees and those in Marion's group regarded her with respect. The situation could have become unpleasant, with a detainee stunned in front of the others or dragged away in hysterics, but Marion had defused the problem with a few softly spoken words. Instructor Parkes led her group out of the loading bay.

"I'm impressed, Counsellor," she said as they headed for one of the lifts. "You handled that very easily."

"It could have got out of hand if I hadn't," Marion replied. "The Shepherds there could have been a little more sensitive, though. It's tricky, I suppose, because until the detainees actually get off the transport they have no idea what they might be facing."

"Counsellor?" one of the group asked. "Do you think that citizen was innocent? The courts don't make mistakes like that, surely?"

"Not usually, no," Marion replied as they squeezed into the lift. "It has been said that every detainee who comes through the door maintains their innocence, and of course most times they are trying it on. But in a very few cases it may be true. It certainly was in my case."

The whole group gaped at Marion. Parkes looked apprehensive as she knew how sensitive Marion's case was. Marion waved a hand in dismissal.

"I'm not going to detail my own experiences to you now, especially as a substantial amount is confidential. However, knowing this place, I'm sure you'll have most of the story before the end of the week from other sources. Back to your original question, yes, I suspect that in this case the poor woman was innocent. Unless she was a very good actress, she had no idea what was going on at all, not even what she was supposed to be convicted of."

"That's possible, surely?" someone asked. "You can fall foul of laws or regulations you don't even know exist."

"Truth. But usually, you get that explained to you when you're arrested. Assuming you got arrested, of course." There were a few startled looks at that last comment.

The group spilled out of the lift onto B Deck. Parkes waved her hand vaguely.

"You know about this Deck, mostly. On your left are the training rooms we are using. These can also be used for group meetings by staff when required. Over the other side is the Staff Gym. For most of you, you'll probably struggle to find time to use it, because the shift hours are quite long. At the rear there are offices, those on the left used by Stores, those on the right used by Facility Services. Facility Services handles heat, light, power, air conditioning, fresh and waste water and building maintenance. At that end on the left is B Deck wing, which is where a large number of normal detainees are housed. On the right is G Deck, where the kitchen trusties are housed. Behind us, Q Deck where the laundry trusties live and L Deck, another wing full of normal detainees." She paused.

"I need to tell you that B Deck and L Deck are the two worst places to work in the facility. There are other awkward Decks, but those two have more than twice as many women crammed into the space and there are all kinds of factions and cliques competing in there. It isn't pretty. Normally, the Deck Shepherds among you will serve on other levels until you gain experience before you're considered for duty down here. Site Security has most to do with B and L Decks when they are outside in the exercise yards. The others of you, keep away unless you have a specific need, and even then you should only consider coming here with an escort."

"We've heard stories," someone said nervously, "Are they really that bad?"

"It depends on who's in at the time, of course," Parkes replied. "It's never very good, though. If we get any really bad influences here they can get sent to a solitary wing to cool off, sometimes they're even shipped off to other facilities to break up gangs. Doesn't always work."

They re-entered the lift and went up another level. The arrangement of offices and rooms up here was somewhat different.

"C Deck is all Site Security. On that side are two rooms where trained staff monitor all the pickups in the facility. We'll have a look in a minute. Every room in the facility has at least one video pick-up, and some have more. The staff here also monitor the streets and spaces around the facility and also some of the buildings connected to it, where some of you live, and where released detainees also live. Everything is recorded, and all recordings are kept for forty-eight hours. Obviously if something happens the recordings will be kept for as long as required. On the other side are the Site Security admin offices. You'll notice a room at each end, these are Ready Rooms for Site Security Shepherds when they are not actually on duty. If you remember your national service days, think Guard Room." Several of the group nodded.

"Right. If we go out through this side corridor, we'll come -"

Parkes opened the door at the end onto a wide balcony running around three sides of the space enclosed by the main block and the wing on either side. The fourth side consisted of a high wall which reached up to the balcony level, half the total height of the facility building. In the square space thus enclosed was one of the exercise yards. Marion supposed that there was a similar arrangement on the other side of the building. She realised that she was in fact standing on the roof of part of B Deck, and that B Deck and the other Decks at the same level or lower must be wider than the Decks above them.

Below, a large number of pink-clad detainees milled around, some walking, some playing various games, some just standing in groups. At one point a caged stairway led up to B Deck level so that detainees could directly access the exercise area without having to go through other parts of the facility. Marion remembered that the other side at the equivalent level contained trusties who could presumably access the yard using the normal routes. Around the balcony, a number of Shepherds watched the activity below, all armed with what looked like powerful stun rifles. At each corner of the balcony was a covered watch post with a searchlight mounted on top.

"This is where detainees come to get fresh air, daylight and a little ad-hoc exercise," explained Parkes. "Each Deck is allowed a certain time here on it's own, no two Decks are allowed to mingle. It works out to about three times a week each, for either a morning or afternoon. Obviously, no-one is allowed out if the weather is bad."

"Is there much trouble out here?" one of the group asked.

"Not usually. It's far too easy for the Shepherds to spot any funny business out here, so the detainees tend to be fairly casual when they're in plain view. Inside it might be a different matter."

Of course, at that moment there was a commotion at one of the small gatherings below, a shriek, and a detainee ran out pursued by two others. One of the observing Shepherds hit a hooter which attracted everyone's attention, but the two pursuers didn't stop. Someone on the balcony aimed a rifle at the leading pursuer and fired, causing her to jerk to a stop and stagger. The other woman raised her fist and shouted insults at the balcony, then helped her mate back to the group. The detainee they had chased reached the far wall and hid behind another group nearby. This second group ignored her completely.

"I did use the word 'usually'," Parkes said dryly. "The Shepherds will make sure that nothing really serious happens to that detainee, but you're bound to get disagreements when you keep this number of women cooped up together."

"Instructor? Those guns. The woman who they shot at didn't even fall over. I thought those guns were more powerful than that."

"Yes..." Parkes began to answer, but changed tack. "How many of you here have experience with stun weapons?"

The only person who put up a hand was the Medical Orderly. Parkes gave a wry smile at the irony.

"Wanda? You want to explain?"

"Yes, Instructor. The weapons are much more powerful, leastways the ones I used were, but you keep the power turned well down unless the situation gets desperate. All you want to do is just discourage people from doing something. Also, when you turn the power up, the beam gets wider."

"Exactly. If you have a group to stop, you might need a wider beam, but if it's just one person, then you need to be able to pinpoint them. If that detainee hadn't stopped, the Shepherd would probably have turned up the power, but the detainee would have known that. All right. If you're all wondering just why the detainee stopped, you'll get your chance to find out tomorrow afternoon when we give you first-hand experience of what a stun wand can do."

There were some worried faces in the group.

"Is that really necessary?" asked one.

"It is," was the reply as Parkes led the group into C Deck again. "The basic tenet of a Shepherd's job is that she does not have to use a weapon in order to encourage a detainee to do what is required. She should instead be using her voice and her attitude instead, in other words psychological means. The weapons you have been issued are just there to make sure that unusual situations can be contained, because in a place like this it is inevitable that there will be people who resist persuasion. We insist that every person who works in a facility understands what the effects of those weapons are, and that is usually sufficient to prevent gratuitous use. Don't get too concerned, citizens, it all happens under controlled conditions and medical staff will be present in case of an unusual reaction."

As they walked towards one of the sets of lifts four people came out of one of the offices towards them. The person in front nodded to Parkes and then spotted Marion as they passed.

"Counsellor! I'm glad I noticed you, a quick word if I may. With your permission, Instructor?"

Parkes nodded and the whole group halted.

"This is Director Khiskov. She is in charge of Site Security," she explained for the benefit of the group.

"We've finished our investigation of your accommodation block," Khiskov said. "It occurred to me that we could allow staff back in to collect belongings before we began the refurbishment. Can you come to my office when you've finished your course?"

"Certainly, Director. That will be around five, I expect."

Khiskov nodded. "Good, I'll see you at five, then."

As Khiskov led her staff off Parkes asked, "Accommodation block? You had further trouble?"

"Yes," Marion replied, "Although that happened after..." She stopped, abruptly aware that at least nine pairs of ears were waiting to hear after what. She continued, "...after I started here as Counsellor," she finished lamely. "Oh. That's another complicated story I probably can't tell anyone. Sorry."

Marion noticed the disappointed expressions and decided that they would probably find out all they needed to know via the bush telegraph. She shrugged. Parkes led the way to the lifts and they went up another floor.

"This is D Deck, and all of D Deck is Sick Bay. The main Deck is offices, examination rooms, treatment rooms and an operating theatre. Sick Bay can handle most injuries and other illnesses which can happen to a detainee. Only the most serious cases need to be transferred to specialist care. Oh, that includes childbirth, although pregnant detainees are usually transferred to the Mother and Baby unit in Facility Three at six months.

"Since staff spend so much of their time here, Sick Bay also cares for them, if they should wish it to. Any medical problem you may have, you can take it to the Sick Bay doctors and they will sort you out. That also, incidentally, includes dental and optical work. I don't think this facility has a full-time dentist or optician, but there are a group of specialists who do the rounds of the facilities and can appear when needed.

"D Deck wing over to your left is where patients are held. It's arranged more like a hospital ward than a facility Deck, but the patients in there are not very mobile so looking after them is no problem. The Shepherds have nursing training as well as facility training so are more specialised than most.

"I Deck is also part of Sick Bay, it's where drug addicts are kept. It's laid out more like a standard detention Deck but again, the Shepherds have specialised training. Behind us, N Deck and S Deck are in theory normal detention Decks but I happen to know that S Deck contains some detainees from Sick Bay who are convalescing before being returned to their original allocations.

Once more Parkes led them up to the next floor.

"This Deck is where the main management offices are, and where most of the building administration is done. The wings at each end hold detainees, though. E Deck is reserved for special cases. This can include citizens with psychological problems, suicide risks and those at special risk from other detainees, for example former law enforcement officials. J Deck opposite is where new arrivals are kept. When a detainee is first inducted into the facility she is placed on J Deck for up to a month. This is to ensure that she doesn't have any disease or infestation that could affect others in the facility, to enable any physical or psychological evaluation to be done and also to give her time to adjust to her new life if she's never been in a facility before. That's where those detainees we encountered in the loading dock will end up.

"O Deck at the other end is where life detainees are quartered. They are permitted slightly better conditions than other Decks because of their circumstances. T Deck opposite is used for solitary punishments when they are needed, for example to cool someone off after a fight and can also be used as an overflow area if other Decks are full. All the detainee rooms at this level are single rooms, by the way.

"Right. I think we'd better make our way downstairs to the canteen as it's nearly lunchtime. If you have any questions you'd like to ask, you can ask over lunch or when we reconvene afterwards. We'll do an hour or so in the training room, and then we'll go to the gym and try and work out some of yesterday's problems."

*****

I'm not trying to win a competition, she thought. Just get the woman on her back! If she's that heavy, I ought to be able to... Marion moved forwards and at the last moment shifted to her right, away from the place her opponent expected her to make her hold. Leaning, Marion grabbed her opponent's upper arm and levered, using her own body as a counterweight. Her massive opponent grunted and sailed through the air to land on the mat behind Marion. The two rolled and came to their feet, turning to face one another.

"That was good," said Ruth, Marion's two-metre tall opponent. "It's been a long time since anyone's managed that move on me."

"Thank you. I didn't hurt you, did I?" Marion asked. "I had to move so far to the side I wasn't sure."

"No," said Instructor Parkes, "You did that exactly right. You understand now," she said to the semicircle of watching Shepherds, "the point is to get your opponent on the floor. You don't have to be pretty about it, you're not going to win any awards. Let's move on to the next position, then. Two more of you to try it?"

After an hour, Parkes stopped their practising.

"Thank you citizens, I think that's enough. Now, have any of you done service in special forces? No, don't tell me anything, just raise your hands. Two of you. Now those two will know what I'm going to teach you next, and that is something that's not taught to those who just do national service. You've all done all the standard combat moves, and you now all understand how to check an opponent who has a different size or shape to normal." She smiled at the towering Ruth.

"Unfortunately, every one of the detainees inside these walls, or almost everyone, has been through the same training you have, so they all, in principle anyway, know how to handle the same combat moves. What I am about to teach you are ways in which you can defeat those moves. Some of these countermeasures are sneaky, some are painful, and a significant number of them are just plain dangerous. These new techniques are taught to all special services personnel. Can I have two of you out here for the first demonstration, please?"

*****

"Service, Director?"

"Ah, Counsellor, come in and take a seat, I won't be a second."

Marion seated herself in Donna Khiskov's office and waited until the Site Security Director finished what she was doing and shut her terminal down.

"Good! That's a relief, I was afraid I was never going to get to the end of it," she said. Giving Marion a smile, she continued.

"My reason for asking you here was ostensibly to tell you that we've finished the investigation of your accommodation block. It was necessary to widen the scope of the investigation to include the other blocks and the surrounding area, but we could do that without so much disruption. That's why it's all taken so long. Now we're finished, it occurred to me that we could allow residents in to collect the rest of their belongings before we start to refurbish the block. That is planned to begin tomorrow."

"Thank you, Director. Does this mean that you want me to clear my apartment today?"

Khiskov nodded. "Yes, please. You'll have to be accompanied, and of course you might observe things which ordinarily you wouldn't expect to see. Given your own record, I have no reason to think you're likely to be indiscreet in the future about anything you see in there."

"Yes, Director. It seems I've learned more secrets since I came here than I ever managed before. You can rely on me."

"We do! And you do realise that your security clearance has been raised? That's partly due to your current residence in the Enclave, of course, but I would like to think that you would have had the raise even if you hadn't moved."

"Thank you Director. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, it's only what you're due for a job you're doing well. Now, the other reason I asked you here was to tell you, off the record, what we found over there. I recognise that you and Shepherd Marchand, amongst many others, will be interested in what was going on, so I've decided to give you the details and let you gently disseminate the information in the usual fashion around the facility."

"Director! Are you asking me to feed the bush telegraph? Deliberately?"

"Well, if you put it that way, yes. Just don't go into any heavy details, and we should be all right. A few words from someone who knows the actual truth should dispel some of the chinese whispers I've been hearing recently." Khiskov rolled her eyes. "You have no idea. Some of them even include you."

Marion boggled over the apparent contradiction of a raised security clearance coupled with instructions to leak secrets, but the Director was still speaking.

"Supervisor Hirsch only had an average reputation when he came here from Male Offender Containment Facility Seven, where he held a similar post. He did keep his nose clean for a while, but the lure of vulnerable freshly-released women detainees was too much for him. One day a detainee refused to do his bidding, and he had a serious argument with her. I don't think there was anything much physical, he just tried to overawe her."

Marion nodded, she could easily imagine how it had gone.

"The following day she cleared out of the block and disappeared, probably back to one of the sink estates where she had come from. What surprised Hirsch was that she didn't officially transfer out of the block. He only realised this when the allowance for her kept coming."

Marion raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, you don't know. Block Supervisors get an allowance for everyone who lives there, to cover heat, light, cleaning, waste disposal, maintenance and so on," Khiskov explained. "There's a much smaller allowance for empty apartments. Anyway, Hirsch realised that if he didn't report that the detainee had gone, and the detainee didn't notify anyone that she had moved out, he could continue claiming the cash. Very soon, he was tempted to try the trick again, and suddenly he had a grey income he could use to satisfy his various needs.

"After a while he realised that the system for the block would record comings and goings, and so he found someone, an ex-detainee, who could fix the computers so that as far as the State was concerned, meaning principally us here in the facility, the block looked normal. Then he realised that the block was still monitored, and he found someone who could disconnect the pickups. This took cash, and so he decided to let out some of his vacated apartments to citizens who could not legally reside anywhere, and would pay for the privilege. So, everything snowballed. With undesirables here, he had to protect them from being seen coming and going, so the outside pickups went as well. With illegals residing in the block, he couldn't organise any major refurbishments, and he was skimping on the normal maintenance as well. I was quite shocked when I saw the state of the place."

"And the only reason he didn't get away with it," Marion mused, "was because I went there accompanied by a Shepherd. If I'd been by myself, I doubt whether anything would have been done."

Khiskov nodded. "You're so right. We - the facility board, that is - have changed the procedure slightly since this came to light, and we now insist that every detainee is accompanied by a member of staff when they first leave here and go to live in one of the blocks. I know you're far too busy to be involved with such matters, but perhaps in the future -"

"Indeed, Director. However, I can't be everywhere at once, especially at the moment."

"I know. It's been a long while since I did the training course, but you have my sympathy. Back on the Decks next week, then?"

"Yes, Director, if my bruises have subsided enough."

Khiskov chuckled. "Yes, I saw that huge girl in your group."

"Ruth? Actually, she's one of the gentlest, kindest people I've met."

"That's often the way. Oh, before you go, I have to tell you that your request for a trusty assistant has been thoroughly scrutinised by the board, and we can't find anything that would obviously preclude the person you've asked for. There will be an interview for her the day after tomorrow, and as her intended supervisor you'll be asked to attend. Because you're still doing the course, the hearing will be at half past five. Which, as it happens, is the time now. Where is that girl?"

Khiskov thumbed on her terminal, but before she could touch a key Special Technician Trish Flanagan put her head around the door.

"Service, Director? Ah, Service, Counsellor."

"Trish? The Counsellor is ready for you to accompany her back to her old apartment to pick up her belongings."

As the two walked towards the nearest lift Marion said, "I'll have to speak to Shepherd Marchand before I get changed. We normally go home together, I'm not sure how this little side trip will fit in."

"That's okay," Trish said, "We've plenty of time, we'll go up to E Deck and you can talk to her."

With Trish waiting by the lift since she was forbidden on Deck, Marion found Belle and arranged to meet her outside the accommodation block once Belle's shift duties had finished. The two then took the lift down to Stores.

"Service," Marion said to the woman behind the counter. Miranda must have been busy elsewhere.

"Service, Counsellor, Technician. What can I do for you?"

"I have to clear out my belongings from my accommodation block this evening, that they're about to refurbish. Fortunately, I don't have much, as I'd only been in there a few days. Can I borrow a couple of sports bags? You can have them back tomorrow."

"That's no problem, two be enough? I'll fetch them for you."

The woman went into the back room and reappeared carrying two of the ubiquitous sports bags, which she then swiped with the counter wand.

"There, they're checked out to you. If you need any more, just come back and ask. I'll leave a note on the file for the evening shift."

"My thanks."

Marion then went to the locker room and changed. Trish had an evening shift so she stayed in uniform but did exchange her disc for her ID card. The two women walked out of the front of the building and up the road to the accommodation block. It was cordoned off and two Enforcers patrolled the front of the building.

"Service, citizens," Trish greeted them. "My colleague here is permitted to enter the building to collect her belongings. Can we go in?"

The two men recognised Trish and were happy to let her and Marion enter the building. They had to call at the supervisor's office, where they found Proctor Todescu in charge.

"Service, Technician. Service, Citizen. You're here to collect belongings? I have a list, so I'd better have your card to verify who you are."

He took Marion's card and stuck it into his datapad, nodding at the result.

"That's fine, Counsellor. I remember, you were involved with that street robbery, weren't you? No lasting effects?"

"Thank you, Proctor, none at all. What happened to those three boys?"

"The one who was injured is still in a medical facility, the other two have been sent for correctional training. We might make decent citizens of them yet. You need any assistance collecting your belongings?"

"Thank you, no, I didn't have very much. I'd only been here a short time, and I have Trish with me if I need assistance."

Most of the ceiling panels had been pulled down and there were several gaping holes in the floor as well, so they had to pick their way carefully through the untidy corridor to Marion's former apartment. The door was wedged open, and all the furniture had been moved around. In the bedroom, all the drawers were open and someone had been through all her belongings. Marion looked at the mess sadly.

"I don't know what I expected, but the reality hurts," she remarked. "Did they have to do all this?"

"Regrettably, yes," replied Trish. "Since they couldn't be sure who actually lived in any apartment, they had to assume that it was all a crime scene. Everything would have been examined. For example, there might have been a weapon or cash hidden under the underwear."

Marion smoothed out the bed and began emptying the drawers one by one, laying her clothes out flat before folding them and carefully putting them into one of the bags. Trish watched for a second and then opened the wardrobe, lifting out clothes and laying them ready on the other bed for Marion to pack. Soon all that was left was the footwear Marion had been unable to take with her previously.

"I need some plastic bags to wrap these in," she said, and walked through the apartment into the kitchen alcove. "Trish? What happened to all the food? I bought quite a lot the day before I had to leave."

"Ah, we ate all that," Trish replied, following Marion into the kitchen. "Since it's all perishable, it wouldn't have been possible to keep it, so your food together with that of the other occupied apartments fed all the search teams while they were here."

"We?"

"Yes, I got co-opted since I had done the initial investigation." She shook her head. "That was quite some piece of work. I just hope they catch the ones who hacked the systems, those people are far too clever to be allowed to roam unchecked."

"What will happen now, if I can ask that question?" Marion asked as she carried the roll of bags back to the bedroom.

"That's okay. Yes, we'll have to completely strip the building systems out completely and replace them. Everything. We can't trust anything that's in here now, so it all has to go. The new wiring and nodes will be of the latest pattern and have a number of new security features to prevent something like this from happening again. In addition, we're making changes to the locks on the access panels, to prevent further intrusions."

"Oh. Can you hold this bag up so that I can get the shoes in? Thanks."

"Yes. If this exercise proves successful, we'll roll out the same upgrades when the other blocks become due for refurbishment. Is that everything? You leave anything in the living room?"

"We'll have a look, but I don't think so."

A last look in every cupboard, and Marion left her apartment for the last time. She hadn't lived there for very long, and it hadn't seemed like home. Would she feel at home living in the Enclave? At the current rate of progress, she wondered whether she'd live there long enough to find out.

They checked out with Proctor Todescu, and stood waiting outside for a short while for Belle to appear. At this time of evening the road was busy as the day shift was going home and the evening shift arriving. Soon Belle arrived and relieved Marion of one of the bags. Trish said goodbye and started back towards the facility while Marion turned to Belle.

"How did you get on with Talya, then? Find out anything useful?"

Instantly Belle's face crumbled. She dropped the bag and clutched Marion's arm.

"I don't think it's going to work," she said, tears brimming in her eyes. "There's no obvious way we can stay together. Talya and I talked it through for ages."

Marion looked at Belle with amazement and concern. This was the first time that she had seen the vulnerable side of Belle rather than the self-confident persona she had always displayed up till now. She put her arms around her partner.

"Now, don't you dare go and cause a scene out here in public," she said. "What brought this on? You looked all right when I came up to the Deck."

Belle gave a wan smile. "I had to keep my 'game' face on while I was on duty," she replied. "I'd always want to be professional on Deck. I bet a lot of them knew I was upset, though. You can't hide something like that."

"I'm surprised you managed even that," Marion said. "Let's go home, and we can discuss the situation calmly and clearly. Something happened this morning while my group was being taken round, and it's given me an idea which may help." She brightened as she remembered her conversation with Khiskov. "I have lots of other news to tell you, as well. Here," Marion fumbled in her shoulder bag and found a tissue. "Clean yourself up and let's go get a tram. The sooner you're home the better."

The ride home was taken in near silence. The fact that the tram was full of workers returning home meant that Belle tried to avoid appearing too emotional, and Marion steered clear of saying anything that might set her off. It was obvious that the situation had hit Belle hard, and showed just how much she had wanted to be with Marion.

Once inside the apartment it became apparent that Belle had been thinking about Marion's words. After taking their jackets off and getting a kettle going for a pot of tea, she turned to Marion.

"What did you mean earlier, you had an idea?"

"You know we were given the tour today?" Belle nodded. "When we came out of Laundry there was a group of new detainees being unloaded. One of them broke free and ran straight for me."

"You? Why you?"

"I think, because I was the only one not in a Shepherd's uniform. Anyway, she was completely bewildered as to why she was there, if she even knew where she was at all. I managed to calm the situation down and assure her that she'd be looked after properly and her case would be thoroughly investigated."

"Ah," said Belle, interested despite herself. "You think she was innocent, then, just like you?"

"It's quite likely. So, afterwards as we went up to the next level, I reviewed my own circumstances and wondered what I could do for her. Then I remembered what had happened at the end of it all." Marion smiled. "Do you remember the minister who came to the exoneration hearing? Marcus Matteson? Remember what he said?"

"Well, yes, but I don't see -"

"Does he live in the Enclave? Can we call him from here?"

"I don't know. I suppose so. What can he do for her, though? She still has to go through the appeal process, we can't interfere with that."

"Not her, silly! Me. We can ask him about our situation."

What Marion was saying finally dawned on Belle, and her expression became more hopeful.

"You're right! Perhaps we can contact him, most ministers live in the Enclave. Because of that, the Enclave has it's own phone system, a secure one. Let's go and check."

The kettle was turned off and the two made their way to Belle's office. She thumbed on her terminal and found the directory listing for the Enclave, a page she rarely had occasion to use. She found that Marcus Matteson did indeed live in one of the other blocks, and she pressed the call button.

"Service, Citizen, your pardon, Citizens. Ah, Citizen Marchand, what can I do for you?" He appeared to be in a hurry.

"Service, Minister. I apologise for disturbing you. I wonder if you remember when we last met, six weeks ago in the appeal court," Belle asked.

Matteson stared at her, blinked, and then smiled. "Yes, citizen, I do. And is that the citizen with you who was cleared?" He frowned. "How did you manage to call me here? Are you in the Enclave?"

"Of course, Minister. I live here. She is my partner, now called Marion Hillier. We have encountered some difficulty with her residency, and we wondered if you might be able to assist."

"You live in..? Ah, of course, you must forgive me, I didn't realise exactly who you were, citizen. Residency? Well, I can't do anything this evening, I'm about to go out to a state function." He considered. "Actually, I had planned to have a quiet family dinner at home tomorrow night. I wonder, would you two consider joining us? If we live that close together, it would seem appropriate to meet socially, and we will have an opportunity to discuss your problem afterwards, in private if necessary. Would that be acceptable to you both?"

"Yes, Minister, if you're sure we wouldn't be disturbing your family evening. We'd be glad to accept."

"I'll make the arrangements, then. We don't eat that late, because of the children. Can you make seven-thirty? We can arrange something different if you can't."

"No, that will be fine. We'll see you tomorrow evening, then."

"Good," he smiled, "I'm looking forward to it. I have to go now, there's a car waiting. End call."

Belle closed down the terminal with a satisfied look on her face. "I didn't expect that!" she remarked. Then anxiety showed. "Do you really think he can do something for us, Marion? I didn't think that there was any way we could get it to work."

"I don't know," Marion replied. "If he can't, then I don't think anyone can. But we might find out exactly what the stumbling blocks are from him, if there's something going on we don't know about."

Belle groaned. "Not more conspiracies. Come on, I need that cup of tea, and it's about time we got an evening meal started."

That night, Marion found the positions reversed. She had to be the strong one, comforting a distracted Belle who put her head on Marion's bosom and clutched her for support. It was a while before both were able to find sleep.

Marion learns about the tools of the Shepherd's trade and faces a challenge unlike any she has experienced before.

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

When she opened her eyes the light from the window was enough to highlight the relief of the pattern plastered into the ceiling. She had never been in a building with such a decoration before, other than old public ones built before The Uprising. As her eyes wandered over the design there was a movement next to her and a face loomed into view.

"You're awake."

"It would seem so," Marion replied. "Why the big smile?"

"I feel much better this morning than I've been doing the last couple of days," Belle replied. "That residency business really did upset me, I hadn't realised how much." She leaned forward and kissed Marion. "I've finally appreciated just what good friends I have, how much you're all trying to help."

"It's called the sisterhood," said Marion with a straight face. "We do what we can."

"Now that's an interesting statement, coming from you," Belle said with a smile. She leaned forward for a longer kiss. Finally pulling her face away, she frowned and lightly ran a fingertip across Marion's top lip.

"You've got a bit of fuzz coming out," she said. "Did you realise? I thought those laser treatments were supposed to be permanent."

"They are, but Sophia said that a certain proportion of hair roots are dormant at any one time, so a little sprouting is to be expected. I'll have to ask her for another session." Marion ran an exploratory hand over her jawline. "Hmm. Some there too. Don't forget, I still have man juice running through my veins, that may make some difference."

"Well, I don't think anyone will notice at the moment. If it's left too long it might interfere with your make-up, but as you don't wear much to work that's not going to be a problem. Time to get up? You have a big day in front of you. Oh, and we have an invitation to dinner at a State Minister's apartment. Wow!"

Marion groaned as she levered herself up on one elbow.

"Is that going to involve me in an hour of preparation beforehand? And what am I supposed to wear? It's not the kind of function I know anything at all about."

Belle had a gleam in her eye as she smiled back.

"The getting ready part is half the fun. I shouldn't get too anxious, though." She pulled back the quilt and swung her legs to the floor. "This is just a quiet family meal, so it won't be anything complicated or formal."

*****

"Find a table each, please," Parkes said as she let them into the training room.

This morning the room had been locked when they all arrived, and two Site Security Shepherds stood guard outside it. They spread out and found that each table had a number of items clearly laid out on top.

"Today, we're going to look at all the equipment that is available to any of the staff who work within a facility," she explained. "You may be surprised at some of it, and most of you will never see some of it, but there's a reason for this selection.

"If there is ever a serious incident within a facility," she went on, "it may be that your life could depend on your knowing how to use whatever is to hand. There are also certain items which are only for use when emergencies are declared, and you should all be familiar with them."

Most of the items on the table were either of pale grey plastic or anodised light metal, which made the one object which wasn't stand out even more.

"Let's dispose of the odd man out first. The Recoilless Automatic Rifle Mark Seven should be familiar to all of you from your national service days. Anyone have a problem with that?"

Two people put their hands up.

"I trained on a Mark Five," said one. "Six," said the other.

"Very well. The difference between a Mark Five and a Mark Six is the redesign of the faulty return spring. That happened quite a few years ago, you may have read about it. The Mark Seven has a modified feed chute, an improved sight and a reshaped stock. You should have no difficulty in using this model, but I'll discuss the differences over lunch with you if you wish. Now, anyone tell me why we have something like this in here?"

Ten blank looks.

"If you think about it," Parkes continued, "Practically everything associated with a facility runs on electricity of some sort. If we get a power cut, then there's a back-up generator, but that's only going to last for so long, maybe a hour, two hours, long enough to attempt to lock the site down into a safe state but that's all. Rechargeable items will keep working for a while, but eventually they'll fail. So, there are stocks of RAR-7's held in special armoured cabinets in locations outside the facility for occasions where control inside has completely broken down. Mind you, if the situation ever got to that state there would be Enforcers and possibly the Army in the streets as well. It's a very long shot, but one we have to have covered.

"Right. I want you to pick up your RAR's and make sure you all remember which end the rounds go in and come out. All have been checked as safe, so there's no chance of you accidentally firing one."

Marion, like any well-trained firearms user, preferred to believe the evidence of her own eyes over assurances by another. She picked up her black-painted rifle, pulled the magazine and verified that it was empty, thumbed the safety and worked the slide. Since the recoil of the first shot would load the next, the slide was only used to prime the weapon, if something jammed, or if it was necessary to expel a round. She held it up to her shoulder, noting that her right breast interfered with her attempt to line up the sight. It also seemed heavier than she remembered.

"So, if you ever have occasion to use one of those," Parkes said as everyone returned their weapon to the table, "the situation will be desperate. That's why we insist that everyone, even Medical Orderlies and Counsellors, is familiar with them. Clear?"

There was a chorus of assents from the group.

"Now, all the other items on your table have been specifically tailored for use in a facility. Normally, these should remain inside the building, in fact most of them will be useless outside. Some of them are rechargeable, and with the exception of the Stun Rifles, are charged by placing them in the sockets provided inside your lockers.

"So, let's deal with the Stun Rifle next. Now, this is usually issued only to Site Security staff who are overseeing the exercise yards, but the same rider applies as before. All of you need to know when and how to use them. Furthermore, each of you will be checked yearly to ensure you are still familiar with them. Counsellor, I'm not sure if that will include you."

Marion was taken off guard by the comment. If the situation got bad enough that she had to use a weapon like that, would she? Or would she try and use her skills? Would the use of such a weapon alter the relationship between herself and the detainees?

"Instructor," she said after consideration, "I would hope that use of such weapons was never necessary, but I think that it would be better to know and not have to use them, than to find it necessary to use them and not to know how. Does that make sense?"

Parkes nodded. "A good analysis, Counsellor. I'll make sure your name is added to the schedules. Now, the facility doesn't have it's own training range for either of the rifles, so arrangements will be made for all of you to visit the closest site to fit in with your own work schedules. I imagine the two Site Security Shepherds will be sent first, and the rest of you fitted in when possible."

Parkes went through the use of the weapon, and then moved on to other items. The special communicator and datapad, which could only connect to the facility's systems. The emergency fob, which could be hidden in any of a number of concealed pockets in every uniform, and what would happen if it were pressed. Then she moved on to the cuffs.

"Each of you will be issued with a minimum of two sets of cuffs. The principle is that no detainee may move outside of her Deck unless cuffed. No trusty may be permitted beyond the fence unless cuffed. For those in solitary, a detainee may not move outside of her room unless cuffed. Unlike Enforcer practice outside, within a facility a detainee's hands should be cuffed in front. There may be rare cases when a particularly violent detainee must be cuffed behind, but in practice that only happens in the male facilities and you will need permission to do it here. The reason is to reinforce the psychological position that a Shepherd is in charge and a detainee must do as she's bidden."

"The cuffs can only be released by a special key," Parkes held up a key on it's lanyard, "and the metal part of the cuff must be touched at the same time by someone wearing a staff disc. The same key fits all cuffs in the building." She demonstrated how to fix the lanyard to a loop on the trouser waistband so that it couldn't easily be removed. "Now, I wonder, perhaps. Counsellor, I'm being a bit sneaky here, but I wonder if you would join me out front for a demonstration? I know that you are the only person here who has had, um, experience with these cuffs. You might be able to advise everyone else on their technique."

Marion sighed inwardly. She thought she'd seen the last of the things when she'd been released, but it was plain that the group would have to practise on one another to get the technique right. She walked down to the front and stood by the Instructor.

"After a short while in here most detainees will get the picture, and you should have no difficulty in cuffing them," Parkes said. Then her voice changed slightly, and she said, "Hands in front, citizen!"

A shocked Marion found that she had automatically placed her hands in the correct position as Parkes whipped a pair of cuffs from a rear pocket and clipped them on her wrists. Parkes did a double-take at the look on Marion's face.

"I'm so sorry!" she said. "I didn't realise..."

"That's all right, Instructor," Marion managed. "After all, I spent a fair while in here, it's no wonder the reflex has become automatic." She looked at her shackled wrists. Parkes released her and turned to the group.

"As you can see with Marion, because she's spent some time in here, she's picked up a habit. Most will be like that. A few will need convincing. For those few, you'll usually have help. Now, did you watch how I managed to get the cuffs out as I spoke? That takes practice, and we'll spend a few minutes in pairs now to practice cuffing and releasing each other. Since Marion doesn't have the required pockets in her uniform, I'll do her partner and she can watch each pair and offer advice."

The next ten minutes or so were a pantomime of people barking orders and clipping cuffs on and off. Marion managed to correct the tone of some of the commands and had to intervene when the Chef managed to get her key stuck in the cuffs she'd placed on her partner. Eventually they were all considered good enough and retired to their tables, some rubbing wrists from over-enthusiastic tightening.

"Needless to say, since you wouldn't have your staff disc or your key outside the facility, the cuffs would be useless, so leave them in the building." Parkes said. "Cuffs used outside have a different specification." She smiled. "Before we leave this topic, if you want to have a bit of dangerous fun, walk into a bar, say 'Hands in front, citizen!' and see how many of the customers twitch. Mind you, if you try that trick, you'd better have back-up."

There were chuckles from the group.

"We have two items left, and they will both require use of the gym," she continued. "This afternoon we will go over the use and effects of Stun Wands, but before lunch there's time to demonstrate the Pacifier Spray. That's the small cylinder. If you'd care to bring that, being careful not to trigger it, and follow me."

Parkes led the way out of the training room and across the corridor into the gym.

"We don't need you to change, you'll be all right dressed as you are. We're using this room because of the mats, it'll be softer for you to fall on. Come and stand round me."

At that moment the door opened and the new doctor joined the group, bag in hand.

"Ah, Doctor, right on time. You haven't missed anything, I've just started."

Karen de Jong inclined her head in acknowledgement.

"Right," Parkes resumed. "The Pacifier Spray is an instant stopper if you can get close enough to use it. Rotate the lid like this until it clicks. Hold it in your palm with the nozzle on the side of the lid against your fingers like so. Press down on the lid with your thumb, it's as simple as that. You have to be within about thirty centimetres of your target's face. Once they breathe the spray in, within a very short time all their voluntary muscles will relax and they'll become limp. This will last for between one and two minutes, which should give you enough time to secure them or do whatever is necessary. Note that they won't be unconscious, just unable to move a muscle. They will be able to hear everything, and see whatever's in their line of vision. Touch, taste and smell are not affected. Needless to say, don't get too close and breathe in the spray yourself, or you'll fall over as well."

"Instructor? You're going to demonstrate that on us?"

"Yes, it's perfectly safe, and it's essential that you understand what the effects are. Now, who's going to be first? And I want one person either side to catch them, please."

"Ah, Instructor, if the spray is 'perfectly safe', why do we have a doctor on hand?"

Parkes explained, "There's a very tiny proportion of the population for whom such a spray is dangerous. The citizens concerned have a medical defect which means they can stop breathing if the spray is used on them. That's why the doctor is here. Unfortunately, if this happens to you, it means you can't be employed within a facility in any position where you would come into contact with detainees. That's why we insist on this test. We put you in possible danger now so that you're not in mortal danger later on. Who's first?"

Marion thought about detainees who would stop breathing when sprayed, since they could not be tested, and because in the circumstances when a spray might be used one would not check first to see if they were vulnerable. She shrugged. It was part of the price of ending up in a facility in the first place.

She was fourth in the queue, and although she had seen what would happen, she still had butterflies when she stepped forward. Parkes raised her hand quickly, there was a slight hiss and a flower-like smell, and then she was falling, gently lowered to the floor by the two helpers. It was very strange, with only a view of the ceiling in front of her. It seemed there was nothing wrong with her, but she couldn't move a muscle, not even to blink. Faces came into her vision, but she couldn't even focus, so they were just blurs.

"She's okay," someone said. "Good strong chest rhythm, no problem there."

Eventually there were some minor pins and needles, and then her body control returned just as though she'd woken from a deep sleep. She groaned and tried to raise herself.

"Easy, Counsellor. A minute or so and you'll be back to normal."

After they had all been through the process they sat on the floor around the edge of the room and talked in low voices, trying to come to terms with what had just happened to them.

"I've never been so helpless before in all my life," one said. "It was a bit frightening."

"I imagine there are people it could drive crazy," another answered. "To be so utterly vulnerable like that, gives me the creeps."

"Actually," the Instructor said, "you might not believe this, but there are people who get addicted to this stuff. I'm sure I have no idea what they get out of it, but you may have to be careful on the Decks. Certain of them will try and engineer situations where you have to use the spray on them. Of course, we get wise after so many attempts and use the wands on them instead."

"It's not just detainees," added Wanda, the Medical Orderly. "We had the spray available when I was on peacekeeping duties, and some of the troops got off on it as well. Caused a bit of trouble in barracks, the sprays kept getting stolen."

"That shouldn't happen here," said Parkes firmly. "All uses of weapons, including spray, have to be accounted for and justified. Just don't get conned into using yours when you don't have to. Remember, it's the voice and attitude we're supposed to be using, all the weapons are merely backups. Now, everybody recovered? Good. When you are ready, I suggest you go and get lunch. Come back here to the gym this afternoon, and we won't need you to change clothing after lunch either."

*****

When Marion returned to the gym after lunch, she saw that a table had been placed by one wall of the gym. On it were three plastic bowls, a datapad, and a Stun Wand.

"This is the main deterrent weapon we use in the facility," Parkes began. "It fires a very short, phased pulse of radio energy which is designed to resonate with the human nervous system. It's basically a hand-held, fixed-power version of the Pulse Rifle. It will be extremely painful to the target, as all synapses fire at once.

"It can be used for breaking up fights and such without getting too close to the participants. The ideal distance for use is about three metres, although you'll get effects out to ten metres or more. Obviously, the further away, the weaker the beam. If you get much closer, the effects of the beam can become more dangerous. At a metre, you'll knock someone out cold and they would almost certainly go to Sick Bay. In that case, unless the situation was desperate, you'll probably be suspended as well.

"You can use the wand as a baton if there is close fighting, but it's made of fairly light materials and probably won't stand too much abuse. You'd certainly damage the focus coils and render it's prime function useless, so try to avoid that if possible. By far the most use you'll have of your wand is just to get it out and use it to threaten. That should be enough to reinforce your instructions.

"Now, today's demonstration is to show you first-hand what the effects of a wand are like. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, so that you understand what you are doing to someone when you press the button. That should deter all but the most psychotic from wanting to use the weapon except when really necessary. Secondly, for you to understand that there may be circumstances when it will be necessary for another Shepherd to use the weapon on you."

There was a buzz of surprise and shock from the group when this last statement was made.

"It's simple," explained Parkes. "There may be occasions when the situation gets out of control and when, for example, you have been grabbed by some detainees and used as a hostage or a human shield. You need to understand that that would not prevent others from using their wands on the group. You must recognise that this is one of the normal hazards of an occupation like ours."

There were some distinctly pale faces amongst the group now.

"Okay. To up the stakes a little bit, each of you will be firing the wand I have here at another of the group. This will show us that you are prepared to fire upon colleagues when required."

There were protests at this, but Parkes held up her hands. "It's a requirement of the course that you do both. If you decline, then you fail. Counsellor, I'll give you the option if you wish, as your presence on this course is voluntary."

"Thank you for your offer, Instructor," Marion said immediately. "But I'm one of the group, and we'll all go through the test together. I'll be walking the Decks, I need to understand everything that might happen." And I'm not going to chicken out when nine other people have to go through it.

"Very well," Parkes said, and she nodded with approval at Marion. She then picked up two of the bowls and gave them to de Jong. "Doctor, if you wouldn't mind?" She picked up the datapad.

In one of the bowls was a number of small, numbered balls. As the doctor walked around the group, each took out a ball, read out the number and dropped it into the other bowl. As the numbers were read out Parkes entered their names against a list on her datapad. Marion picked out number six.

"Okay. I'm doing it this way to try and make it fair," Parkes went on when they had finished. "Two of these bowls have numbers in. I'll pick a number out of the first bowl, and that will be the shooter. The number out of the second bowl will be the target. If I pull the same number from both bowls the second number goes back and I draw again. The two numbers drawn get put into the third bowl so they don't get called again. That way we can ensure that everyone experiences being both shooter and target, and the draw is completely random.

"The target goes and stands by the window there. That way, when we fire, we'll be shooting out over the exercise yard and because we're up a storey there's no chance of hitting anyone outside. Unfortunately, because of the spread of the weapon, we can't have anyone standing by to catch you as you fall, but you should be okay on the mats. Any questions?"

"Yes, Instructor. You said the beam goes out through the wall. Will it go through anything?"

"It gets considerably reduced in power when it goes through anything that solid, but if you're being held in front of a rioter, it'll get her with about the same power it gets you. A properly used Stun Rifle can flatten anyone inside a house from outside, but obviously with an apartment there's a possibility of collateral damage, so wands would be used because they are of lower power. Any other questions?"

"Yes," said Marion. "I notice the presence of the doctor again. Are there risks?"

De Jong spoke. "Yes. If your target is too close, it's possible to stop someone's heart if there's a pre-existing problem. A small number of cases have also been reported of people having fits, again due to underlying health issues."

"If anything like that affects any one of you," added Parkes, "I'm afraid you'll be failed the course. It's for your own safety. Now, are we ready to draw?"

Marion was drawn as second target. She went uneasily and stood near the glass-brick windows, far enough away that she wouldn't strike them if she fell that way. She licked her lips and looked at Ruth holding the wand in her hand like it was a twig. She nodded to indicate that she was ready, and Ruth aimed and fired.

Marlon had been told, in the factory where he had worked, a story about an unfortunate individual who, many years before, had fallen off a catwalk at the plant into a crucible of molten steel. He had occasionally wondered just how much agony the man had experienced in the few brief instants before his life had ended. Now Marion thought she knew. Her whole body experienced fire, inside and out. Every muscle spontaneously contracted. The pain was beyond belief. The pulse had been mercifully brief, microseconds only, but Marion's body was still reacting to the shock as she thumped down onto the mat.

De Jong and Wanda rushed over to her, helped her to a sitting position and dragged her back to lean against the wall.

"Surviving?" the doctor asked.

Marion's jaw unlocked itself and she croaked out, "I think so."

Parkes came over. "You had a slightly stronger jolt than usual, Counsellor. I'm afraid Ruth was a little in front of the mark, and of course her arms are longer. I hope it wasn't too bad?"

Marion got her breath and then shook her head to clear it.

"Bad enough. That's the sort of thing you only want to experience once."

"That's the general idea," confirmed the Instructor. "We don't want people who think they can just zap detainees at any time if it takes their fancy."

After a few minutes Marion found she could stand and walked unsteadily to the water dispenser at the other end of the gym to moisten her mouth before returning to watch the others take their turn. Every time someone stiffened and then fell to the mat she remembered what had happened to her and her nerves twitched in sympathy. She was therefore surprised when her number was drawn as a shooter and she was handed the wand.

She was the last shooter, and the last target, one of the Site Shepherds, walked over to the window and stood waiting. Marion suddenly understood the whole point of the exercise. How could any sane being possibly do this to someone else when they knew exactly what the result would be? Yet they had to learn to do it, in order to protect themselves and everyone else in the building. They would have to force themselves, knowing what the consequences would be to the colleague who was their target. With her own nervous system still ringing from her own ordeal, and with tears running down her cheeks, she raised the wand and pressed the button.

While some ran to help the last target, others recognised that Marion's distress was like their own and five of them went into a mutual hug with her. Even though they were still sensitive from their own experiences, they still wanted to have some friendly female contact and reassurance. Finally Parkes came and spoke to them, and they separated.

"Citizens, I understand what you've all been through. Everyone who works in a facility has to do what you did this afternoon, and I'm proud of you all. No one has failed today. We shan't be doing anything else this afternoon because the physical and emotional stress you've just experienced would make it pointless. So, we have the use of the gym, just walk about and let your bodies and your minds recover, talk amongst yourselves, have a drink, and you can leave when you feel ready. I'll stay here if you want to ask me anything about what happened to you today."

Everyone in the room went over to the water dispenser and got themselves a drink. They remained in twos or threes around the room talking in low voices about what they had done and what had happened to them. It was obvious that this afternoon's events had affected them all in ways they had not anticipated. Eventually some began to trickle out of the room to get changed, and when about half had gone the rest decided to go together.

Outside in the corridor Wanda and the doctor peeled off from the group to find another lift, and Marion hurried to catch up to them.

"Are you going back to Sick Bay? Can I join you? I have a pile of work to look at before I leave tonight."

De Jong replied, "Of course, Counsellor. Your office is in Sick Bay, isn't it? I think I might have the one next to yours."

"Thank you, Doctor. It's possible, I don't know. I don't actually know my way completely round Sick Bay, I've been too busy to explore."

"Call me Karen, please do. We're colleagues, after all. So, how do you feel now?"

"My insides are still ringing, like a bell after it's been struck. I don't think it's enough to stop me functioning, though. Bad enough at the time."

"Nope, never get used to it," remarked Wanda as they entered a lift. "But you force yourself to do it, because you know you've survived it before."

"You've done it before?" said Marion in surprise, and then figured it out. "Oh, yes, you've been on peacekeeping duties, haven't you. Do they do that test there, then?"

Wanda nodded. "Anyone who is ever going to be issued a Stun Wand or Stun Rifle has to pass the test. To tell you the truth, I'd forgotten that I would have to do it again when I came here. I let fly a few choice words when I found out. Still, I appreciate the reasoning."

"So do I, now," Marion said as they walked out onto D Deck. "So do I."

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

At about quarter past six Belle appeared at the door of Marion's office. Marion had done some work, but not as much as she might have had the day been a normal one. She gave Belle a weary smile.

"Hello. You're a little early, aren't you? Not that I'm complaining, mind."

"A little. If we're to be ready by half seven we'll have to get a move on. All we need is a delay on the tram and we'll be late."

"True. I think today I'm glad I have an excuse to stop."

Marion closed down her terminal and the two made their way down to the locker room to change.

"How did it go? Have any problems?" Belle asked as they changed, meaning the tests.

"No, neither I nor anyone else failed or had medical complications," Marion replied. "Physically there's not a scratch on me, but I think we've all changed inside somehow."

Belle nodded. "It seems to affect most people that way. I will warn you, rioters can see it a little different when they're on the receiving end, though. Don't assume that everyone learns the same lesson from being zapped. It's not put you off, then?"

"Why should it? It was necessary for me to experience it to do my job, and I think the fact that I went through the test when I didn't have to made a difference to some of the others. It's sort of like an initiation, isn't it?"

Belle nodded. "I never thought of it that way, but you could be right. You'll notice the difference in your own attitude as you go round the Decks. Oh, I keep forgetting, it'll be different for you as you're not a Shepherd."

"Not so much. I'll be taking the same risks as any of you do. Are we ready to go?"

Marion closed her locker and retrieved her card, and the two made their way out of the facility and up to the tram stop. Outside the block where Marion had lived, the building had been fenced off and the builders had already begun stripping out the old equipment. On the grass in front of the building there were piles of cables and bagged electronics awaiting collection. They were a little ahead of the evening rush and managed to get a tram in good time, to be dropped off in Old Town just as a nearby clock struck seven.

"So, what are we going to wear, then?" Marion asked as they walked briskly towards the Enclave.

"Shouldn't be hard to work out," replied Belle. "Although, hmm, let me see. It's not a State function," she pulled a face, "or some other kind of formal do where you have to pull out all the stops, it's not like we're meeting someone at a restaurant either. Although we've met him previously, he's not a friend, so we'd have to adjust our outfits accordingly, be a bit more sober. We're meeting at his home, so that makes a difference, with just his partner rather than other colleagues, so... But their children will be there as well, so we have to take them into account as well, it changes the mood of the occasion." She turned to Marion. "You're right, it is a bit of a minefield."

They went through the turnstiles and continued into the Enclave towards Building Four.

"Tell you what," decided Belle, "You wear that dress and jacket suit we bought you when you first came here. Put some make-up on, but don't overdo it, because of his children. We don't want to appear too formal. Wear heels, but find some that aren't too high. We aren't going out, after all, just across the road. I'll find a suitable evening blouse and team it with a dark skirt, that should do. We want to be seen to be making an effort, he is a minister after all, but we don't need to overdo things."

They reached the apartment and immediately began stripping their clothes off. Marion had a very brief shower while Belle laid her things out, and then started dressing while Belle showered.

"See? We can do it if we try," Belle said twenty-five minutes later as they stood by the front door, jackets ready. "I don't think we could have got away with it if we had to go outside the Enclave, though. Ready, love?"

"I think so. Where exactly are we going?"

"Block Nine," came the reply as Belle led the way to the lifts. "It's one of the back row."

Blocks One to Six were along the edge of the escarpment, overlooking Victory Park. The second row of buildings, Blocks Seven to Twelve, were parallel but faced the lesser slope of the hill and part of Old Town. The two women left their building and walked across the wide avenue which divided the two rows of apartment blocks to reach Block Nine. They entered the building and knocked on the door of the concierge's office.

"Service, citizens, can I help you?"

"Service. Yes, we're invited to the home of Minister Matteson at seven-thirty."

"Ah, yes, two are expected. May I have your cards, please? Good, everything seems to be in order, I'll get someone to take you to their apartment."

A young man conducted them to the lift and up to C Deck. Having directed them to apartment C5 he then beat a hasty retreat, no doubt back to whatever he had been interrupted from by their appearance. Belle thumbed the door announcer, and the door was shortly opened by the Minister himself.

"Ah! My two guests have arrived," he said with a smile. "Service to you both. Be welcome in my home."

"Service, Minister," said Belle, stepping into the apartment.

"Service, Minister," Marion repeated as he shut the door behind them.

"Now, this is a social visit, so I suggest we drop the titles," he said, "Please call me Marcus. And you are?"

"Belle Marchand," she said, holding out her hand. Marcus gave it a firm shake and then turned to Marion.

"Marion Hillier," she said, and received a handshake of her own. Marcus looked sharply at Marion.

"Are you really the same person I met at that hearing? It's almost unbelievable." He shook his head in wonder. "Well, Belle and Marion, welcome. Ah, here is my partner Annelise, and my two daughters Josephine and Margarethe, or as they more commonly like to be called, Josie and Gretta."

A woman of about the same age as Belle and Marion had come into the hall from the living room, shepherding two young girls in front of her. The oldest was about nine, the younger may have been seven. All had long hair that was almost but not quite blonde, in contrast to Marcus's much darker hair. The two girls were dressed in party frocks, and their mother wore a haute couture blouse and skirt. The two visitors shook Annelise's hand, and then Marion stooped and shook the hands of both the girls.

"Service, citizens," she said to them gravely. The two looked at her suspiciously, and then the older one smiled.

"Shall we all go into the living room?" Marcus suggested. "We have some minutes before they will start serving dinner." When they had all found seats he continued, "This would normally be just a family gathering. My two daughters were born two years and four days apart, so we decided to give them a joint meal each year to celebrate their birthdays. Oh, they each have a proper party with their own friends, but this is a little different. However, nobody objected when your request came yesterday, and I thought it would be a good way for us to meet socially."

Belle had a disapproving look on her face. Marcus noticed and hurriedly waved his hands.

"No, no! Please, citizen, I intend nothing other than plain friendship between us. When we met at that court hearing I didn't know who you were, in fact I'm not even sure whether I knew what your name was. I remembered your face, though, and I recognised you when you called yesterday. Up to that point I hadn't realised that you lived in the Enclave, or who you were. I just wanted to meet you under more relaxed circumstances than the last time."

Belle softened slightly. "You do understand, Minister, that I have had a lot of difficulty over the years from people trying to use me to gain advantage? That's one reason why I work in a facility."

"If I hadn't realised it before, I do now, and I offer apology if you had considered my motives impure." He turned to Marion. "Your face and name, citizen, I don't think that I will ever forget. If I may say so, you look even better than you did that day. Now, can I offer you both a drink before we start? What would you like?" He stood and made his way over to a sideboard loaded with bottles.

"Will we be having wine with our meal, ah, Marcus?" Belle asked. "If so, I believe I'll wait, thank you."

Marion said, "May I have some fruit juice, please? I've had a taxing day today, and I want to keep my head clear."

When Marcus raised an eyebrow, Belle explained, "She had the Stun and Pacifier tests today."

Marcus winced. "I thought that you didn't look quite comfortable when you came in," he said to Marion. "I thought that it was just because of the circumstances tonight. I assume that you passed the tests?"

"Yes, thank you. It was uncomfortable as you say, but we all got through them," Marion replied.

Marcus said, "I want you to relax this evening, then. I feel sure that you haven't had this kind of social experience before, have you?"

"No, never." Marion was still unsure of the social niceties of the situation, which was entirely unlike anything she had done before.

"Marcus told me a little about your case," Annelise said. "After dinner, would you mind telling me a little about it? It sounds awful."

Marion turned to Marcus, who nodded. "Annelise works in the Secretariat, and has almost the same clearance as myself. We met in Housing, and I went on to Finance and then Justice, while she moved to Transport before ending up in Defence. She's only part-time now, because of the girls, but she still keeps her hand in. We do discuss each other's problems from time to time, and she was quite useful when your own case came to light. There are certain aspects of the situation which as a man I didn't understand too well. So I got my local expert on the subject to assist."

"Of course I was only guessing a lot of it," Annelise added. "I hope you'll be able to tell me whether I was right or not."

"Your drink, Marion," Marcus said, handing her a glass.

"Thank you," she replied. "Tell me about your two beautiful daughters, then."

Marion had found a subject that broke the ice, and they were all very much more relaxed when a white-jacketed man appeared in the doorway to announce that dinner was ready. The six made their way along to a separate dining room where a full spread had been laid out. Waiters seated them all and began serving out the first dish. Marcus sat at one end of the table, with Marion on his right and Josie on his left. Next to Marion sat Gretta, and next to Josie sat Belle, with Annelise at the other end of the table.

"Now, in this house we have a rule," Annelise said as they put their napkins on their laps. "Talking shop is forbidden during meals. I'm sure we can find sufficient other things to talk about."

"Yes," added Marcus. "We can go into my office to discuss your problem while Annelise is putting the girls to bed." She gave him a black look. "Okay! I was just laying out the evening for our visitors."

As they began eating, Belle said, "You normally have staff, Marcus?"

"Oh no! Annelise cooks most evenings, at least when I'm not dragging her away to official functions. She would probably have cooked this evening if it hadn't been for you two. I decided to shamelessly make use of the Enclave's Catering Service." He used his fork to indicate the buildings around them. "There are of course people living in here who have to entertain ambassadors, plenipotentiaries and occasionally heads of state, so there's always someone available to knock up a three, five or ten-course meal when it's needed. Do you use the service at all yourself, Belle?"

"No, I never have," she replied. "There's not a lot of point when you're living on your own. I can cook for myself, or if that's not convenient for some reason I'll eat at the facility." She frowned. "I think my father used them, but that was a long time ago."

Marcus nodded. "Yes, well, I'm only a small cog in a big machine, and I rarely get the opportunity, but it was there and I decided that the occasion warranted it. So, eat up, and enjoy your meal." He picked up his knife and fork to attack his starters, and then paused. "Hey! I just realised, I'm having dinner with five beautiful women. Aren't I lucky tonight." The adult women smiled at him, and Gretta giggled.

Marion found that she was intrigued by this atmosphere of homely domesticity. After all, not so long ago she would have been awaiting the start of her own family, had it not been for her partner's death. Now, it was impossible to say what the future might bring. Just soaking in the easy manner and lively chatter around the table made her aware of what might be possible if they could get the residency problem untangled. Marcus obviously doted on his daughters and she wondered if Marlon would have done the same.

"Daddy says you work in a place where they keep the baddest women," Gretta said as they waited for their plates to be cleared ready for the main course.

Marion turned to Marcus who just shrugged and nodded. Obviously the girls assumed that 'talking shop' didn't mean them, if they even understood what the phrase meant.

"That's true," she replied. "Both Belle and I work in the same place, but we do different jobs there."

Gretta's eyes were wide. "Are there any really bad people there? Have you seen them? What are they like?"

"I haven't been to all parts of the building," Marion replied carefully, "so I don't think I've seen all the really bad ones. Some of the bad women wear brown dresses, some wear green, but most wear pink dresses."

"Ooh. Like my pink dress?" Gretta's dress was pink, but there could be no comparison with the uniform a detainee wore.

"Oh, nothing like as pretty as yours, I can guarantee it. It's so we can tell who are the bad people and who aren't."

"Oh. You have to be very naughty to go to a place like that, don't you? Do you know what they did?"

"A few of them, yes. I don't think it's the sort of thing we want to be talking about while we're eating dinner, though."

"You mean, it'll be gross?" put in Josie, her curiosity thoroughly raised.

"Indeed," said their mother. "You're both a little young to be listening to that sort of thing just yet. I don't want you to have bad dreams listening to things that even grown-ups find unpleasant. Perhaps when you're older we'll ask Marion or Belle to tell you some stories of what happens inside, but we should leave it for now." She changed the subject. "Belle dear, do you go out from here into the park at all?"

"Yes, I do," she replied, "after all I can see it out of my windows, I've known it all my life. Why?"

"The only real experience we've all had of the park is the New Town side, which is noisy and crowded. Obviously, since Marcus's promotion, we can't just wander about as we used to. I wondered what this side was like, whether it was possible to go in from this side and have a peaceful walk, or something like that."

"Oh, yes, of course! How long have you been here?"

"Just over eleven months isn't it, Marcus?"

"About that."

Annelise continued, "Marcus has been busy, and we don't really know much about what happens up here on this side of the park. I did take the girls in once through the Old Town gate, but that's all."

"I see. You really should go when you can, the girls will love it. If you use the small gate between blocks Three and Four you can get directly into a quiet part of the park, that's the way I usually go," Belle explained. "It's much quieter up here, although if there's a festival or the weather's good you'll find people most places. I think the mob from New Town can't be bothered to climb the hill, and the Old Town citizens like to keep it that way. Don't worry about security, either. Because of the Enclave, State Security keeps a close watch on what goes on at this side of the park, and if you take the girls in they'll keep an eye on you all. Did you notice the Italian Cafe at the side of Old Town gate? When I was their age I used to get delicious ice-creams there all the time."

"Ice-creams?" The girls chorused.

"You've done it now," Marcus said with a grin. "They'll be wanting ice-creams every time you go near the park now."

The main course arrived. The two girls ate smaller portions of the same food as the grown-ups, with each parent keeping an eye open for bones and other potential pitfalls. Marion decided that she couldn't remember when she had eaten a better meal. Belle had eaten comparable meals but realised that standards weren't being sacrificed just because this was a family dinner. The wine served with the main course she recognised as a particularly choice vintage, and said so.

"You shouldn't have dug this out just for us, Marcus."

"I take my responsibilities as host seriously," he replied. "If it had been just us and the girls I might have chosen differently, but you both deserve to be entertained properly."

"Quite right, too," added Annelise.

The girls had jellies for dessert while the adults had various fruit concoctions. After the dishes had been cleared away, waiters brought in two tiny cakes covered in pink icing, with nine candles on one and seven on the other. The adults sang 'Happy Birthday' twice, the candles were blown out and the cakes cut and shared out around the table. When everyone had had enough to eat, they all returned to the living room, leaving the hired help to clear up the dining table. Marcus served out coffee to the grown-ups while the girls brought their soft drinks with them from the dining room.

"What shall we do now?" asked Josie.

"You shouldn't do too much that involves jumping around," cautioned their mother. "You've only just eaten, I don't want to have to have this carpet cleaned again."

"You've both had your birthdays already?" asked Marion. They both nodded. "Then why don't you show us what presents you've had."

Annelise shouted "Slowly!" after them as they jumped to their feet and scampered from the room. Both returned with armfuls of gifts and spread them for their visitors to see. Both Marion and Belle spent a while admiring the presents with the excited girls before their mother reluctantly decided that they'd been up long enough and it was time for bed. With several tearful "goodnights" the two were ushered off by their mother while Marcus followed behind with the two visitors as far as his office. As soon as they had all made themselves comfortable he began.

"Your brief call yesterday puzzled me," he said, "so I did some research earlier today to try and find out what the problem was. It is a curious situation, isn't it? Let me see if I understand what you think is going on. You, Marion, want to become a resident here in Belle's apartment, correct? And you can't, because of the residency requirement, which Belle doesn't fulfil by the normal rules."

"That's correct, Marcus," confirmed Marion. "I'm living there temporarily now as a guest because of a problem with the accommodation block near the facility that I was assigned to."

Marcus gave a grimace. "Yes, I know." He looked at Marion. "Everywhere you go you seem to cause more work for my department. Not that I'm saying that's a bad thing, necessarily, but you're beginning to get a reputation. Okay. So you can't move in. Now I assume that you and Belle wish to be together, so why doesn't she move out, and the pair of you find another place to live somewhere nearby?"

"Because I've been told not to," explained Belle. "Certain elements have suggested that if I were to move out, I'd be insulting the memory of my father. So I'm stuck in there like a bird in a cage. I can't move out, and Marion can't move in."

"This is a ridiculous state of affairs," Marcus said. "Why on earth would they not permit Marion to join you? I can't see what harm that would do. I can't see any obvious reasons for being so awkward, either. Not that I'm an expert on such matters, of course. It's not in my terms of reference."

"I can think of a few reasons off the top of my head," said Marion. "There are probably more if I bothered to spend time on it."

"You can?" asked a puzzled Belle.

Marcus nodded for Marion to proceed.

"First, it's possible that there are people in the military who are disgruntled that Belle didn't stay in the army and rise to become a figurehead like her father did. She's told me herself that she was good at what she did there, and that some didn't want her to leave. Perhaps they just want to thwart whatever she tries to do instead.

"Next, suppose there was someone who has the idea of making a Committed Partnership between himself and Belle? That way, he might think that he could use her to gain power and influence. Then along I come and stand in his way, so he blocks the residency to keep me out.

"Or, someone's got their eye on the apartment. Suppose that by making life difficult for Belle she gets fed up and at some point just moves out regardless of what anyone might think? Choice spot becomes available in the Enclave.

"Or, it could just be someone bureaucratic, who decides that he doesn't like loose ends and tries to get rid of Belle by whatever means. We've all met people like that, haven't we?"

"Gosh, you have been thinking about it," Belle said.

"On the bureaucracy thing, that shouldn't apply, as there are others in here under similar conditions," Marcus said. "Let me explain how this all works."

"There are?" asked Belle.

"Yes, I discovered that there are nine properties in the Enclave currently occupied by descendants of Founders. If I may? Right. You both understand that since the founding of the State there has been a conscious effort to try and keep any laws and regulations that are made as straightforward as possible."

Belle spluttered disbelief.

"I said straightforward, not simple. However, it was found that the number of sub-clauses on any new regulation just kept increasing to cover odd exceptions to the rule, so it was decided to handle matters in a different way, that is by using a Certificate of Exception. So, regulations cover the bulk of most cases, and if any odd circumstances turn up a Certificate is issued detailing the way in which that regulation is modified. The beauty of this is, that Certificates can be issued to citizens, organisations, buildings, vehicles and anything else that is necessary. So, for example, Marion here has at least two Certificates to her name. You probably have some as well, Belle."

"Me?" Marion said. "What do I need exemptions for?"

"One, you're a legal male in a female facility, which is normally forbidden. Two, you're currently doing a job which doesn't officially exist. You'll probably be responsible for at least two more if the application for that trusty of yours goes through." He gave Marion a stern look, and she blushed. "Belle's the daughter of a Founder, so probably has some protections on that account. But what I wanted to get across is that the whole Enclave has Certificates covering it's use.

"Normally, as you know, a citizen may be accommodated in any suitable property which is available and convenient for their purposes. The Certificate for the Enclave restricts that to current government ministers, the five High Justiciars - who were the people who exonerated you that day, Marion - the top appointments of the armed forces plus a few other officials for whom residence is deemed a necessity. There is a very short list of military and administrative grades who qualify, and it is the job that qualifies, not the job holder. This is for security reasons, of course. Since there are other descendants of Founders living here, and some of them have families, I'm assuming that they each have their own Certificate for the purpose, and Belle must have the same. I don't understand what the problem is for Belle. I'm beginning to wonder if Marion's conspiracy theories are right."

"So that's how it works," said Belle, "I didn't know the details."

"No reason you should. I think I'll take this up with the committee that deals with Certificates." Both women gave him a look. "No, it's all right in this case, no bureaucrats involved. The committee is a quorum of government ministers who meet for a half-day each week to discuss any exceptions to regulations which may have arisen. The rule is, any one who votes no to a proposal kills it. Anyone may vote for a Certificate, anyone may abstain. The votes are noted on the Certificate itself in case there are problems. I proposed the Certificates on Marion, if it's of interest. We should be able to get this straightened out, I think."

They stayed in the office and talked to Marcus about various subjects. He was keen to find out how Marion was getting on, and was encouraged by what she told him. They discussed the accommodation block business, Marion realising that here was one person she could tell what Khiskov had passed on. Eventually Annelise opened the door of the office.

"They've gone to bed. Would you like to look in and say goodnight?"

The two women poked their head round the door of the darkened room that the girls shared and wished them goodnight before returning to the living room with their hosts. They sat and talked for some time before it became obvious that the visitors were beginning to tire. It was time to leave.

"I've enjoyed having you over," Marcus said. "I just wish I'd thought of this a while ago. With your permission, we must arrange something again. The girls certainly like both of you."

"I would like that, Marcus," Belle replied. "As you're aware, we work long hours, but I'm sure something can be arranged. I think, if you don't mind, we should be getting home now. We both have to work tomorrow."

"Of course. Well, again, we've enjoyed having you here, and I'll be in contact about your problem as soon as I can. That'll be about a week or so."

The two women bade goodbye to their hosts and walked slowly back to their own block through the fresh evening air. This revived them somewhat after the wine and the top-class food, and they felt more awake as they let themselves into Belle's apartment.

"It's not quite as late as I thought. Do you want a nightcap?" Belle suggested.

"No, thanks, I've had quite enough to drink to be going on with. What did you think of Marcus?"

"He's a bit of a dish, isn't he? I think that if he hadn't had a partner and two children I might have been interested. If you hadn't been around of course. Why? What did you think?"

"I don't know. He affected me in a way I probably wouldn't even have recognised before. He was just so... obviously male. Without being a knuckle-dragging caveman, if you get what I mean. He was handsome and charming and attentive and smiling and good-natured and... Belle, what's happening to me?"

"Probably very little," she replied. "Come and sit down a minute." She sat beside Marion on the settee and they put their arms around one another. "I think you're just shifting your viewpoint," she said. "You're beginning to see them as we see them. It doesn't mean you're any different than you were before."

"If you say so. But if you think that Marcus would have been a good catch, why have you ended up with me? I'm now about the exact opposite to Marcus."

"Because I saw what you were like when you first came to the facility, silly. I liked what I saw and that was enough. What happened afterwards to you just made you more desirable. As I just said, you're basically the same inside. It's just that the outside looks a little... prettier. Doesn't make you a different person."

"And I was thinking about families," Marion continued. "That was one happy family. I never got to have mine before, and I wondered whether I'd be a good... father, I was going to say."

"Do you think we'll be able to manage one?" asked Belle. "A family, I mean. I'm assuming that you do want to continue with this crazy partnership."

"Oh, yes. Oh, heavens, yes."

They just sat, enjoying a hug before retiring for the night. Marion shifted her legs to make herself more comfortable and, startled, realised just why she had been uncomfortable. She became conscious that her body had been functioning that evening in a way that she had been completely familiar with for most of her adult life, so familiar that she had not noticed what was going on. Once she did, however, her pulse rate leapt and sensations from long ago flooded through her.

"Belle, dearest," she said in a wobbly voice. "I think I may have a surprise for you. Perhaps the Stun Wand's triggered something off."

"Hmm?" Belle, warm and half asleep, raised her head. "What?"

Marion grabbed Belle's free hand and guided it down to the base of her stomach where her legs began, and placed it where Belle could feel a warm, firm cylinder through the fabric of the dress. Belle immediately came fully alert and looked at her partner, her eyes bright.

"So, you've got a loaded gun," she said softly. "Do you think you can fire it?"

"I have no idea," Marion replied. "I guess we'll have to go and find out."

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

Marion opened her eyes to view the early morning light. She was lying in her usual position, flat on her back, with the decorated ceiling in view. The difference this morning was that instead of being beside her, Belle was resting on her chest with her head nestled between Marion's breasts, her arms wrapped around Marion's waist. Marion put her own arm back around Belle's shoulders from where it had fallen earlier that morning.

It was peculiar, really. Just simple bodily functions that every single man and woman were capable of - at least that they were supposed to be capable of - and last night things had worked exactly as they had been intended to. Unfortunately, it was not that simple. Last night they had lain together for the first time ever as man and woman, and last night everything had changed. Marion sighed.

It was only when they were closely coupled that either had realised that this was not going to be just like any other night, not just a bit of fooling around and a mutual giving of pleasure. To the surprise of both, they had discovered that their union had a much deeper psychological effect, one which had bound them much more closely together.

That was the good news. Marion had exulted in the bonding of their relationship, but hadn't been prepared for the difficulties that might arise. For example, although her body had responded almost exactly as it had on numerous occasions previously, the resultant orgasm had been, well, for want of a better word, unexceptional. Marion supposed that might be because of the large gap of time since the previous occasion, or of the cocktail of drugs and hormones she had been given over recent months. Perhaps time would improve matters.

On the other hand, the problem she faced this morning would not be so easy to resolve. I can go back. Up till now she had taken for granted that her male organs would no longer function, and that she would placidly progress to being a full woman, possibly with or without surgery. Now, that whole idea was thrown into question. If it is possible for me to become male again, should I? I would lose my job, that's for certain. I would probably have to have surgery to have these breasts removed. Do I want that? If I can become male again, what would I do? Belle would probably stand by me, but would I lose all my other friends? If I choose to remain female, what will happen to my male functionality? Will I lose it again?

From a settled, sure course with a loving partner, all the old questions now resurfaced. I need some advice. She gently moved so that Belle awakened.

"Hmm? Oh, good morning, love." Belle moved and raised her head so that she could kiss Marion. Even the kisses felt different! Belle smiled, her eyes glowing. "That was a very special thing you did last night, darling, and I will never forget it as long as I live." She kissed Marion again, longer. "Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I was so right about you."

Marion hugged her partner tight, tears beginning to trickle from the corners of her eyes.

"Yes, you were, and I'm so glad you were. Not even the State is going to keep us apart from now onwards."

Soon their mutual cuddle was broken by the insistent call of nature, probably as a result of the previous evening's meal, and both headed for different bathrooms. Once refreshed, they dressed and made breakfast before gathering their coats and bags and leaving for work.

"Do you think you can do it again?" Belle asked as they walked to the tram stop.

"I have no idea," Marion replied. "I think I need to take some advice first. And, once we get home tonight, I think we need to have a long talk together."

Belle took a look at the serious expression on Marion's face and her comment died unspoken. Marion had obviously thought of a possible problem, and until she had worked it through there was no point discussing it. Especially not in public.

*****

"Service, Sophia."

"Oh, service, Marion. Take a seat. Aren't you supposed to be downstairs in the training room?"

"Not quite yet. I have a few minutes, so I thought I'd come and ask you something. I assume we're going to be busy this afternoon, so we might not get the time then."

"This afternoon? Oh, yes, Talya's hearing." Sophia stopped whatever she was doing on her terminal and gave Marion her full attention. "Go on, then."

"Belle noticed a couple of days ago that I have some fuzz growing on the top of my lip. I wonder if you can schedule me another session with the hair removal thingy. You did warn me that it was likely to happen."

"Yes, of course. You'll be busy the rest of the week with the course, so I'll fix you up an appointment early next week, will that be okay?"

"Yes, any time, I've been leaving my future diary free till I knew what the course would do to me."

"A wise move." Sophia turned to her terminal and paged through the department's diary. "There's nothing big going on, so any time you think suitable. Anything else I can do for you while you're here?"

"Yes." Marion took a deep breath. "Last night, I had penetrative sex with Belle."

Sophia sat up straight in her chair, the diary forgotten. She stared at Marion so hard that Marion could see the whites of her eyes. Suddenly, realisation hit home and Sophia's whole body slumped as she understood what had happened, although her reaction was a complete mystery to Marion.

"Oh, no," Sophia muttered. She turned back to her terminal while saying to Marion, "Sit there while I bring up your record, will you?"

She paged through Marion's file and then sat back in her seat, concern and embarrassment plain on her face.

"While you were detained here, you were on a course of several drugs and hormones, as I'm sure you remember," she explained. "Unfortunately, when you were released the hormone regime wasn't continued. If you remember, that was about the time I got bounced into this job. Added to which, you were exonerated, so that any existing treatment should have been reviewed and probably updated on discharge. It's my mistake, I really must apologise."

"But surely Alison would have spotted the error?"

"Obviously not. Why should she? When you first came into contact with her, you'd been out a week and as far as she was concerned you were just a new employee, albeit one with an odd history. No, I should have made sure your file was updated, but as I said I got made temporary Director the same day you were released. I would guess, from your hair growth, that your male hormones are picking up in the absence of blockers. We need to sit down and design you a proper course of treatment which is going to keep you stable in future."

"It's not that simple," replied Marion. "I thought that I would never be able to do it the - man's way again. I never realised that it was possible. I don't know what I want any more. That's what we need to have a talk about."

"Oh." Sophia looked at Marion for a long while. "What you're saying is that you don't know whether you should return to being male again, now that the possibility is there. What does Belle think about that idea?"

"I haven't discussed it with her yet. I want to know what's possible first. It's..." Marion hesitated. What she wanted to say was fairly personal, but then, Sophia was her physician, wasn't she? "It's drawn us much closer together. Before it was fun, and me exploring things I didn't know my body could do." Sophia nodded. "But last night was different."

"You think she might prefer the male you to the female you?"

"I don't know. She did say, before we got to that part, that she thought I was much the same inside as I was when I first came here, that it was just the outside that was," Marion blushed, "prettier."

"So it is," came the reply, "I just wish hormones would clean up some women's bodies the way they cleaned up yours. I've heard nothing so far which would indicate that you couldn't go on the way you are now. You are registered as a Shemale in any case, that includes male reproductive parts, functional or not."

"These hormones," Marion asked, "There's something else."

"Oh?"

"We had dinner yesterday evening with Minister Matteson. He was the minister who came to my exoneration hearing, and he invited us to join him for a quiet meal with his partner and daughters."

"Matteson? Yes, I know of him, although we've never met. A good meal, then? Is that what started your body parts off again?"

"I don't know. A good meal, yes. I wondered whether the Stun Wand exercise yesterday afternoon might have had some effect. Anyway, Sophia, they're a family, and we really enjoyed visiting them. It made both of us wonder about having our own children."

"Ah, now I understand," Sophia nodded. "Very well, it looks as though I've some research to do today. You can tell Belle what you think is best, but I don't think I'll have answers for you today. As you said, this evening is going to be taken up with Talya."

"Yes, Sophia."

"Do you mind if I discuss your circumstances with Alison? She'll probably have more time than I will today."

"By all means. I've nothing to hide."

"Thank you. Wait here a minute." Sophia got up and wandered into her treatment room, returning shortly with a small plastic screw-top jar, which she placed on the desk. Marion recognised it as a specimen jar, there were some in her own treatment room. She knew that because they were made in the millions and were essentially disposable they were not chipped like other items in the facility, but the label had a barcode, and she watched as Sophia scanned it in before writing on the label with a stylus.

"There," Sophia said as she handed it over. "Bring that in tomorrow morning and give it to the Path lab. I'd keep it in your fridge overnight."

Marion took the container and looked at it. "What do you want me to put in here?"

Sophia gave her a long look.

"Oh," said Marion. "I'm being dense."

"You'd better come into my treatment room. I'll take a blood sample while I've got you here. I can't do a lot with that," she pointed to the sample container, "but I can do the usual blood tests to determine your current hormone levels. That's one advantage of working in a female facility, we have more need to check hormone levels."

Sophia drew what seemed to be rather a large blood sample before she decided that she'd delayed Marion enough.

"Now, perhaps you'd better be getting off to your course?"

*****

Much later that afternoon, Marion walked in to the Controller's outer office. Already seated there were Elena and Talya, the latter looking extremely nervous.

"Counsellor Hillier," the Controller's assistant Marcie greeted Marion. "You're the last to arrive. If you'd like to go into the meeting room?"

Marion entered the room and closed the door. Seated around the table were Controller Brand, Site Security Director Khiskov, Sophia and a woman and a man in civilian clothes who Marion didn't recognise.

"Come in, Counsellor, have a seat," invited Brand. "You know of course Donna Khiskov and Sophia is your own immediate superior. This is Arlene MacIlvoy, who's from the Facilities Directorate. When a detainee is proposed for trusty status, there's always someone from Head Office, so to speak, who is able to provide an unbiased viewpoint during the hearing. Next to her is Dirk Wilders. Because this is a somewhat unusual hearing, the Justice Ministry asked him to come along as an observer."

"Citizens," Marion said as she sat.

"Now before we get to the meat of the matter it's been suggested that you lay out your own situation for the benefit of our visitors," Brand continued. "Although I have no doubt myself of the value you provide to the facility, it might be better if you tell them yourself what it is you do, and why you think you need some support for that that a trusty might provide."

Marion took a deep breath and began to tell them how she operated, giving examples where she was able to talk to detainees in a way that a Shepherd never could, and how she'd found out significant things by doing so. Of course, this raised so many questions that she was forced to backtrack and detail a significant portion of her history. She ran through her story yet again, part of her mind thinking of Talya slowly disintegrating outside while she wasted time inside, but she knew that it was all important to convince the ministry watchdogs that what she wanted was reasonable.

"So," she concluded, "I think that although my need is certainly for some secretarial assistance, my need is not so much for a trusty as for a particular trusty. That is, a person already known to me who I am fairly sure will do the work required in a reliable way, and who has the useful knowledge besides to assist me in resolving some of the detainees' problems, and who wants to give something back to people who have helped her."

"We'll talk about your candidate in a minute," said MacIlvoy. "Now, just supposing that this person was not acceptable for some reason, would you be prepared to accept a different trusty to do the work?"

"The proposed person was previously a Court Clerk. She has intimate knowledge of judicial procedure, and a truly amazing ability to find information on the facility databases, even when limited to a detainee's terminal. That's why I proposed her. If you can find me someone else who has the same abilities, I would consider her, but I don't know that another person would be any different to the one proposed. There would be the same reasons to approve or deny.

"If on the other hand you're asking whether I would be satisfied with just a secretary, then the answer would probably be yes, but I would still need to have access to somebody else with legal training in that case. A third possibility is that I could have a normal secretary who wasn't a trusty. That too is possible. I don't think I'm going to get anyone with legal training on the salaries that a facility could offer, though."

MacIlvoy nodded. "You present a good case. Now, you know that eventually your trusty, if we choose her, is going to complete her sentence and leave the facility. At that point you'll have to find a new assistant, since the law forbids anyone who has a criminal conviction from being employed by a facility. What will you do then?"

Marion shrugged. "As far as I know, she has two years left, although for one of those she will be eligible for parole. I've spoken to a charity law centre out at Oakenwood who say they would be prepared to consider her when the time comes. As for my own circumstances, a year is a long time and the situation will almost certainly be different by then. I don't see any point in planning so far ahead. After all, seven months ago I was a man who worked in a factory."

The man, Wilders, spoke. "How can you be certain that this detainee won't take advantage of her position? You intend to give her free rein over the facility's systems, as I understand it. Up till now, the status of trusty has usually been given to people who do manual work, not those who do office work."

"Because she still sees herself as being part of the forces of Law and Order," Marion replied. "She did a thing which affects anyone's judgement, that is she fell in love. As far as I can tell, it was the real thing for both of them, even though he was a minor criminal. The problems for her really started when her boyfriend got leaned on by his superiors. Even then, she didn't appreciate what she was getting herself into until it was too late. She's certainly learned her lesson, and what's the point of learning from your mistakes if you can't put that experience into practice? Her character is such that she will be scrupulously fair in everything she does. She knows that she'd be given a position of privilege, and she'll be extremely careful not to abuse it."

"There is another matter," said Brand. "She is detained on E Deck, and customarily trusties are not taken from E Deck. After all, the reason that they are up there is because they are at risk."

"It seems a shame to me," Sophia put in. "Other Decks get the opportunity to better themselves, and to earn a little credit for their parole, but E Deck is denied the chance. I don't think it will be a problem in this case, though. She'll be working in an office in Sick Bay, so the only contact she'll have with other detainees will be via the terminals. This particular person won't mind that, as she's quite introverted. In fact, it was Marion who managed to get her to come out of her room after nearly four years, she'd turned almost into a hermit. It will, in fact, give us the opportunity to improve her social skills gradually before she is released."

"You're putting up good arguments for your candidate," Wilders said. "As an independent observer, I can't see any obvious problems with what's being proposed. If this can be made to work, then it may provide a precedent for others on E Deck to be offered trusty status under certain conditions."

"Donna?" Brand asked. "Any questions in your mind, before we bring her in?"

"I don't think so," replied Khiskov. "Except, perhaps, her access to staff records. I'm not sure about that."

"She'll have to have a terminal of her own, won't she?" asked Marion. "We can't use the same one when I'm in the office as well." Khiskov nodded. "Then, would it be possible to program her terminal to only give access to detainees' records?"

"That still seems like she has access to rather a lot of information," objected MacIlvoy. "In theory, at least, she could use the information for blackmail purposes."

"She has that information anyway," said Khiskov before Marion could speak. "It's readily available from any detainee's terminal when another detainee approaches. The discs permit that, although not many detainees realise it."

"Yes," Marion added. "That's how she was able to crack my case. There is another matter you might like to consider, Director."

"Oh?"

"She'll have the run of Sick Bay, unless you can figure out something clever to do with the doors. That potentially means she'd have access to all of the equipment."

"I don't think that's a great risk, Marion," replied Khiskov. "I've been aware of the whole saga from the beginning, and I don't think that she is any great risk on that account, either of stealing equipment for others or or using equipment to harm herself. But you're right, it is something that will have to be borne in mind, especially once the precedent has been set."

Sophia added, "Of course, we do give some trusties access to Sick Bay, we have the cleaning shift that comes in every evening."

"Very well," MacIlvoy said. "Bring her in, then."

Marion got up and opened the door, beckoning Elena and Talya into the room. They both took chairs at the end of the table, Elena removing the cuffs at a signal from Brand.

"You are?" MacIlvoy asked Elena.

"Senior Deck Shepherd Elena Borthun," she replied, "Senior Shepherd for E Deck."

"And you are?" Talya was asked in turn. She licked her lips. She had used up a lot of nervous energy waiting outside, and the neckline of her dress was stained with sweat.

"Natalya Makrova, citizen," she replied.

"Can you give us, please, a brief history of yourself, and what you did to result in your being sent to this facility?"

Talya told them an outline of her past, how she'd grown up and wanted to work in law enforcement, but failed the physical requirements for active work and ended up as a court official instead because of her intellect and attention to detail. She then told them about meeting a man who seemed as if he was the one, and how they fell foul of his associates, and how she discovered what he was, all too late, and how she was pressured to 'adjust' vital documents and so got caught.

"Do you still think he was 'the one'?" Sophia asked.

"I'm not sure," replied Talya. "I've had lots of time to think about the whole affair, and he might have been. I can't communicate with him at all because he's in a male facility and that's forbidden. If we were both to be released and seek one another out, I suspect it would never be the same as it was before," she added sadly. "I've decided that he must remain just a part of my past life's experiences."

"So, you want to become a trusty," MacIlvoy said. "Why do you think we should let you?"

Talya nervously said, "With respect, citizen, I didn't ask to become a trusty. The Counsellor here said that she thought that I might be able to help her do her job."

"And do you think you could do that?"

"Yes, citizen. It's more or less what I've been doing up till now anyway. I know that it will take time for the work to build up, but I don't mind that. I just want to do something to help."

"And why should we trust you? She wants to put you in an office and give you access to everybody's most detailed records. How do we know you won't abuse the privilege?"

Talya gulped. "Citizen, I made a mistake. That's why I'm in here. That doesn't mean that I've spent my whole life making mistakes, or that I plan to make any more in the future. I just want a chance to prove that I can be trustworthy again. I have no interest in anyone's records except when they can help the Counsellor do her job."

"Shepherd? Do you have any comments to add?"

"For what the Counsellor requires, citizen, I think that Detainee Makrova will make an excellent trusty. I have nothing bad to report about her at all. The whole Deck is hoping that she will be made trusty."

"The whole Deck?"

"Yes, citizen, Shepherds and Detainees alike. Marion, the Counsellor that is, spent six months on E Deck, and we are all her friends. We have all been involved in her new position."

Wilders raised an eyebrow. "Shepherd, are you implying that there is some kind of unauthorised collusion or corruption happening on your Deck? What exactly did you mean?"

Elena looked serious. "I know to what you refer, citizen, and I can assure you that the operation of the Deck has at all times been carried out strictly in accordance with the regulations. However, we have the full trust of every detainee, and vice versa. This is partly Marion's - the Counsellor's - doing. We have little or no discord on E Deck since she came to us."

Wilders' other eyebrow joined it's mate. "Interesting." He turned to Brand. "Controller, I think I need a proper briefing on what's going on here. I don't think you have any cause for concern, but it sounds like there are lessons which could be learned from this episode."

Brand nodded. "Many, many lessons have already been learned, citizen, but you are welcome to stay behind afterwards and discuss it further. Are we satisfied with this detainee's answers? Does anyone else wish to question her? No? Detainee Makrova, you may return to E Deck. Shepherd, you may remove her."

After Elena and Talya had left the remaining group discussed the proposition.

"It's an unusual situation," said MacIlvoy. "I can't see anything that would obviously prevent the appointment."

"No," said Wilders, who was inspecting his datapad on the table, "There's nothing in the regulations either way. The combination of circumstances might cause a problem, though."

Marion put in, "Minister Matteson said that he suspected that a Certificate of Exception or two might be required to cover the circumstances."

"Matteson? You've spoken to the minister? When?"

"Last night, actually." Last night? Seems like a year ago. "We had dinner with him, a private affair, and it came up in conversation."

Wilders suddenly looked extra cautious. People who could have dinner with ministers had to be treated with care. Instead he just nodded and shut down his datapad.

"I don't foresee any great problem from my perspective," he said. "Assuming all the relevant processes are followed, I think it will be permitted."

"Yes," agreed MacIlvoy, "it's not the usual kind of trusty who will be working in the kitchens, or laundry, or cleaning or something like that. But if it gives us a way to award trusty status to Special Status detainees, I'm all for it. I'll have to go back to my office and review all that I've learned today, but I'll be sure and send you my decision before the end of tomorrow, Controller."

*****

When Marion returned to her office she found an anxious Belle waiting for her. Pausing only to pick up the sample container, they made their way down to the locker room to change.

"What's that for?" Belle asked, indicating the container.

"I saw Sophia this morning before the course," Marion replied. "She wanted a sample."

"I know, I can see the plaster on your elbow. What was that for? About what happened last night? You said you wanted to have a talk, is that what this is all about?"

"Oh, um, yes. I'm sorry, my head's full of Talya just at the moment," Marion apologised. "Can we leave this till we get home, dearest? I want your full attention when we talk."

"Sure. It's just that you seemed so serious this morning."

"Yes, we've got a lot to discuss."

"Okay, love." They entered the locker room, and started changing. The meeting had gone on so long that the room was nearly deserted. Marion realised that it must be well after seven. On the walk up to the tram stop, Belle spoke.

"What did you do to poor Talya in that meeting, anyhow? The poor woman was in such a state when Elena brought her back we practically had to put her in her room with a shovel. To cap it all, she was too late for dinner, and we had to call down to the kitchen for a special to be brought up. Are you sure she's going to be suitable for what you want? I'm not sure she's strong enough yet. Sure, she's now mixing with the others, but I think she's still fragile where strangers and open spaces are concerned."

"She wasn't in there that long," Marion responded. "The problem was, they wanted to know about me and my job so she had to wait a fair while before they brought her in. I don't think that did her any favours. I'm hoping she'll have settled down by the time they make a decision, then we can all help her transition into her new role."

"I hope she does get it. It's a waste of a brain to see her cooped up like that. Look! A tram."

They ran for the tram and made it. Although they were only half an hour later than usual, the tram was nearly empty. Even so, Belle didn't want to bring up what she thought was the important matter of the day, so instead she enquired about food.

"We're later than usual. What do you want to do for dinner, eat in, go out, or what?"

"How are we doing for food in the apartment? Enough for a dinner? I don't really want to go out tonight, you'll only have to wait before we can get down to talking."

"There's enough to scrape something together. We have to do some stocking up very soon, I keep forgetting that two eat twice as much as one does, and sometimes more. Eat in, then."

The meal was freezer surprise, and none were more surprised than they were when it turned out to be quite palatable. They took their coffees and adjourned to the settee, sitting so that they could face one another.

"Now, spill. We do something truly amazing last night, and this morning you go all funny about it. Tests from Sophia! Mysterious discussions threatened! A woman needs to know, so talk!"

Marion considered her words. The day had been quite busy, and she had not had much of a chance to collect her thoughts, but the basics would do to start with.

"Belle, you know that since I started this mad transformation, I've always assumed that I had a one-way ticket, and that where I am today is merely a stop on that journey. It had never occurred to me that there was any chance of going back. I was just some kind of strange beast with some body parts that didn't work, and I was quite content with that. I'm wondering whether that was a side effect of the drug treatment. Anyway, last night was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you. Both the fact that I could do it and what it's done to our relationship."

Belle smiled warmly. "Yes, my love, it was a surprise to me, too. I thought that I understood our relationship, it appears I knew nothing." She leaned towards Marion and the two exchanged a lingering kiss. When they broke, Belle said, "But that's not what this is about, is it?"

"Yes and no. You see, if the male parts of my body can function as intended, then I began to wonder if it were possible for me to return to being male, and in that case would I want to."

Belle contemplated her partner in silence. Marion suddenly had had unexpected options presented to her. Belle immediately understood that she would never part from Marion, no matter what she decided, whatever path she chose. But there were other considerations.

"What did you go and see Sophia for?" she asked.

"For that all to start working again, there has to be a reason." Belle nodded. "So I went to Sophia, and she immediately realised that of course I haven't been on the drug treatment since I've been released."

"Oh, no! Of course you haven't!" Belle gasped as she realised what had happened. "How did that happen?"

"I got released, Sophia got promoted, and the records didn't get updated properly. She blames herself, but I should have noticed as well. That's why I've been getting facial hair. Marlon's making a come-back."

"Marion, my love," Belle said earnestly, "You know that I will always want you whatever you look like, whatever path you choose."

This of course broke Marion up, and the two hugged and kissed each other, tears streaming.

"Thank you, my dear," she said softly. "But it doesn't change my basic problem. What do I want to be?"

"Why do you have to change?" asked Belle. "After all, you're quite settled as you are now. What's wrong with just carrying on?"

"Now that you know we can have man-to-woman sex, would you be satisfied if it were to stop again in the near future? I don't know if it's possible for me to remain active, as it were, once Sophia restarts the drug and hormone regime."

"Of course I wouldn't mind. After all, that's what we've been doing together up till now." Her eyes took on a faraway look. "I will of course, cherish every opportunity we have together as man and woman," she added, "but I don't think it's the end of the world, is it?"

"Possibly not. I must admit, I was disappointed with the results last night. Oh, not because of anything either of us did, but simply that the resulting sensations seemed so... pale in comparison with the feelings that you and Citizen Silver can conjure out of my body. I'm beginning to think that male orgasms are tremendously overrated, but of course most of the poor dears never experience anything different." Marion paused. "That's not the nub of the matter, still. The real question I have to ask you is, do you want to have children?"

"Well, of course, any woman wants children... you mean your children? Is that even possible?"

Belle found herself shocked by the intensity of the emotions which suddenly burst upon her. The question had simply never occurred to her, but once it had been mentioned she discovered that the basic urges of motherhood were there, and they were very strong.

"Marion," she said in an entirely different tone of voice, "You would do that for me?"

"If it were possible, and if it were necessary, then yes, I would. If you wanted my children, then I would do anything at all to make that possible. Anything."

Belle's tears came again, and she clasped Marion strongly.

"I don't deserve you, I really don't," she wailed, the emotions so strong she had no chance to control them. Marion just held her until she managed to stem the tide, and then they kissed again. "Oh, I am so lucky," Belle said, tightly wrapped around Marion. "So very, very lucky."

Once they had regained their composure, Belle asked, "So what did Sophia do, then? Blood tests?"

"Yes, she wanted to find out what my current hormone balance is. She's not simply going to continue with what was there before, she plans to work out a new course that will keep me stabilised. Now, if we want to have children, that may alter her proposed solution."

"Ah, a light dawns. So, in the mean time, make hay while the erections last, is that it?"

Marion shook her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think any of us has enough information, given my current condition, to say what might happen in the future. However, I think you'll have to be patient for tonight, since she wants me to provide a sample for her."

"A sample? Oh. That's what that little pot is for."

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Will you need any assistance, at all?"

"I don't think so. Every male has been practising that particular sampling procedure since time began," Marion said with an embarrassed grin.

"However," Belle said brightly, "once you've got your sample, there's no reason why we can't try for another, is there?"

*****

In the morning Marion took her sample, carefully wrapped in toilet tissue to keep it cool after a night in the fridge, to the Pathology lab in Sick Bay and handed it over. She then returned to the training rooms on B Deck for her last day of Shepherd Training. Like the previous day, the emphasis had been on psychological methods of guiding and controlling their charges together with scenarios played out by the group to illustrate particular situations they each might meet.

After lunch, it was a final session in the gym to show that they had understood all the additional techniques that Instructor Parkes had taught them, and for her to make a final check on the fitness levels in the group. At the end she pronounced them all satisfactory and wished them good fortune in their future careers.

Marion had returned to her office late that afternoon and was catching up on work much delayed by her presence on the course. Belle entered the room and sat down.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ready? What for?"

"You haven't got that far down on your message list, then? We've been asked to go along to Sophia's office."

"Oh? Let me see. Yes, here it is." Marion looked at the clock on the terminal. "We won't be late. Let me finish this one, then we'll go."

They knocked on Sophia's door and walked in, each taking a seat.

"I've asked Belle here since, although this is technically a doctor-patient meeting between myself and Marion, it intimately concerns her as well. I assume you've no objections, either of you?"

"No, doctor," they both replied.

"Your blood tests, Marion, show elevated levels of male hormones, which is much as we suspected. Now I can prescribe you drug therapies which will control those levels, and also bring your female hormones up to a more acceptable level as well."

"I understand, doctor."

"Marion also mentioned that since she'd realised that her male parts still functioned, that the possibility of returning to being a man had occurred to her. If she wanted to do that, that situation would be the same as we discussed when we first discovered what was going on. Gosh, that seems a long time ago, doesn't it! Do you think you'd still be interested in considering that option, Marion?"

"I don't think so any more, Sophia. I've been thinking about it all today, and I've realised just how much I'd lose if I went back. Apart from having to have surgery to get rid of these," she patted her breasts, "I'd lose my job and contact with most of my friends. I've essentially been adapting for seven months, and all of that would be thrown away. I'd have to learn how to be a man again, and I find that the idea doesn't interest me at all. Although being a woman has been hard work, I'm beginning to appreciate the results, and I'm happy where I am. So, I'm not going back. I am not going back!"

"There is another aspect to this, however," Sophia continued. "Yesterday when Marion came and saw me she wondered, considering the increased masculine activity, whether she might be still fertile."

"Yes. We discussed this very point last night. We weren't sure if any drugs you might prescribe me might make me impotent again, and we decided that it wouldn't matter to us except in one respect. We talked about children. The possibility of having our own children."

Sophia nodded. "I wondered if you might, which was why I asked for a sample. Now, I'm not sure that you're any longer in a condition where I should be prescribing for you, to be honest. I think that it's possible to balance your treatment such that you can have a basically feminine body - much as you are now - but still be able to provide the appropriate genetic material for your partner, however, the drugs might affect said material. I don't know.

"I've looked at your sample under a microscope and as far as I can tell, you have active sperm swimming about. I don't have the training to tell whether it's defective, or if there's sufficient, or what, so what I'm going to ask you both to do is to go to a clinic that a friend of mine runs, where there are people who do have the necessary training. It's Fertility Clinic Two, and it's just down the back of the hill from you at the bottom end of Old Town. Would you go?"

Belle and Marion looked at each other. It was a bit sudden, but if things worked, then why not?

"You're asking both of us to go?" Marion asked.

Sophia nodded. "Yes, they'll give you both a full diagnostic working over just as they would any other couple." She leant her elbows on her desk as she leaned forward. "There is an advantage. They run a sperm bank. If it turns out that you can't have treatment and remain potent, then you could store some up before you start the treatment, just in case. Call it an insurance policy."

"What about the gender business?" Marion asked. "Won't that complicate matters?"

"Actually, it's why I thought of them, they handle some transgender matters as well, they just don't advertise the fact. You'll be in good hands there."

Marion looked at Belle, who nodded.

"Yes, we'll do it," she said.

"In that case, would you be amenable to going there the day after tomorrow? They have a cancellation. Otherwise, it would mean either sometime next week, which would mean during work hours, or the following week-end or even later."

"We're not in any hurry, are we?" Belle asked.

"Yes and no," replied Sophia. "I daren't start Marion on any drugs before she's been assessed, as it might affect any tests they do adversely. So, a few days won't matter, but I wouldn't want to leave it much longer. The longer she's off drugs, of course, the more masculine she gets. And, there must come a point where she'd not be welcome in the facility any longer."

"Ouch," Belle said. "I'd forgotten the job requirement."

"I hadn't," Marion responded. "We'll go day after tomorrow. Unless you'd other plans, Belle?"

"No, other than perhaps going to the park. No, we'd better get this situation understood properly. Thank you doctor. Is there anything else we need be aware of?"

"Not that I can think of," Sophia replied. "You'll get a message detailing your appointment sometime tomorrow. Thank you both for coming."

Marion's head was spinning as they walked back to her office, but Belle derailed her thoughts with a simple question.

"How did your course finish? Everyone pass?"

"Oh, yes. We all got through okay," she replied. "Parkes did say that some of us were a bit light in the fitness area, and it occurred to me that along with the drugs, I haven't done any proper exercise since I was released. No treadmill at the apartment, of course. Is there a gym in the Enclave, Belle?"

"Of course there is. You'll find it mostly full of State Security gorillas trying to keep their fitness up while they wait for the hordes of terrorists to break down the walls of the Enclave." Belle showed her disdain for the paranoia of State Security. The last known surviving terrorist was along the corridor in Sick Bay wing with throat cancer. "Most of the residents steer clear of the place, or have memberships of more select establishments. But, if I remember rightly, the original reason you went on the E Deck treadmills was that you were a runner before. Is that right?"

"Yes, but I didn't compete or anything like that. It was just a good way to keep fit. Anna ran as well, we kept each other company."

"So, you can join me, then. On the two days each cycle I'm not in here, I usually go for a run around the park. I try to make sure I do it one day at least, both days if the weather is good and my diary isn't taken up by shopping and all the other things we have to do."

"The park? You mean Victory Park? What kind of a run can you do in there? How far?"

"I run around the perimeter road. The total distance is about sixteen kilometres, although because we're at the highest point there's an evil kick on the way back up the hill. I have been known in the past to stop off at Luigi's on the way back if I'm not as fit as I thought I was, but I haven't done that for a year at least. Mind you, it's been a few weeks since I last went out for a run, come to think of it." She smiled fondly. "I've been distracted recently."

"Oh." Marion digested this, then realised that it would probably be perfect for what she needed. "Oh," she said again, and rolled her eyes. "I suppose this means I'll have to go shopping for running kit, then? I can't see me going round in facility gear, somehow. It's going to have to be bright pink or lime green, isn't it?"

Belle grinned wickedly. "I hadn't thought of that, but yes. Shall we go shopping tomorrow morning, and get it over with? I promise you won't stand out, there'll be too many others out there wearing similar gear."

"If you must."

They reached Marion's office and she looked at Belle.

"Do you have to go back to the Deck? I don't mind either way, but for some reason I like having you within sight at the moment."

"What time is it? Quarter to six. Yes, I think I'd better. Dinner will be served soon, and it's best if we're all on hand for that. Shall I come and find you as usual afterwards?"

"Yes, please."

Belle left and Marion returned to her clogged-up terminal. She soon discovered a priority message from Controller Brand, and she opened it to find that Talya had been accepted as a trusty, with certain reservations. Marion read through the details carefully before breathing a sigh of relief. She immediately shut down the terminal and climbed the stairs to E Deck.

"Service, all," she said to the group at the watch station. The Deck was currently quiet, all detainees being locked in their rooms prior to the evening meal being delivered. As yet, Alex and Sandy had not arrived for their evening shift, so there were only the four day shift Shepherds on duty.

"Service, Marion," replied Elena. "You came up quick, I can almost see scorch marks in the corridor. Talya?"

"Yes, she's been accepted, with some restrictions. I thought I'd run them past you before I talked with her."

Elena nodded. "I had a brief message from the Controller."

"Does she know, yet?"

"Probably. I can't see why they wouldn't tell her."

"Anyway, her conditions are going to be different to that of other trusties, for fairly obvious reasons. Instead of moving to G Deck or Q Deck to live with all the other trusties, she'll have to remain here. I think I prefer that, it's somewhere familiar for her. She'll be getting a brown dress in order to permit her to pass freely between this Deck and Sick Bay, which will be the only two places she'll be permitted. I understand that she'll also keep her green Special Risk uniform to wear on the days when she's not in the office. I don't expect she'll be working every day, I won't be. This means that both Shepherds and detainees will have to get used to seeing her in either uniform, and to see her coming and going as her job demands. I hope that's not going to cause any trouble."

"Not at all!" said Elena. "I think that everyone else will be happy to see her in and out of here. I don't think there'll be any resentment at all. They know what she'll be doing, after all. She'll be assisting other detainees."

"I'm also not sure what hours she'll be keeping," Marion added. "Do you think that will be a problem? I'm thinking mealtimes, now. Oh, and of course she'll probably be having her lunch at her desk. I'm not sure how the record keeping works in such cases."

"You leave that to us," Elena said. "It's a new situation, and we'll keep an eye open for any problems. You want to go and talk to her? You can just get in before the food arrives."

"Thanks. I'll just pop my head in the door."

Marion walked down to Talya's room, by which time her door had been released by the watch station. She knocked and entered.

"Service, Talya."

"Service, Counsellor."

"Oh, no. You call me Marion, okay? I won't have it any other way. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes, of course. But it's going to be strange working for you."

"I don't doubt it, it'll be strange for me as well. But we'll take it slowly, we have to come up with an arrangement that functions for both of us."

Marion and Talya then discussed the details of her new job, and how they would manage the restrictions that had been imposed. Talya seemed to have come to terms with the idea that her life was about to change again, and Marion thought that was a good sign. They decided that, since Marion was going to be away for two days, that Talya wouldn't start till Marion's next cycle began so that they would both be able to spend a day together organising the office. That would also give Talya time to get her new uniform and for the various changes to be made which would allow her to move between E Deck and Sick Bay.

Their discussions were interrupted by Kristina, who opened the door to say that the food trolleys had arrived, and Marion withdrew to the watch station. By this time Alex and Sandy had appeared, so the six Shepherds spent the whole of the changeover period discussing what Marion and Belle had been up to for the past week, gory details and all. Finally, the meal trays had been collected and the day shift bade the evening shift goodnight and headed for the lifts. Marion joined them and they all merged with the crowd getting changed in the locker rooms.

"I could do with a quiet week round about now," Marion remarked to Belle as they squeezed onto a rush-hour tram.

"I know what you mean," Belle replied over the noise. "Our week hasn't quite finished yet, though. And I think the shopping is going to be the easy part."

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

"What shall I wear? Am I going to be trying things on?"

Belle poked her head around the bathroom door. "Probably. Just put on a top and slacks today, then. We aren't going to be trying to impress anybody."

Marion dutifully pulled out the pair of light trousers she'd bought on her first shopping expedition and looked at them. Tights underneath? Perhaps not. If she was going to be trying running gear, then she wanted to be able to strip off easily. The weather was warm enough at the moment, anyway.

She pulled up the trousers and the feeling on her legs was weird, really weird. It was the first time, apart from trying-on in the shop, that she had worn a pair of trousers since the day she had been picked up at the beginning of this whole saga. They felt odd. Just as odd was trying to do them up, she hadn't realised that women's trousers fastened differently to men's. Eventually she succeeded and stood in front of the mirror to judge the fit and effect.

Shows how much I've changed , she thought. When I was Marlon, I would never have bothered with this. If they fit, they went on and that was that. Now I check myself every time to make sure everything's just so. She chose a casual top from a shelf and held it against the trousers to check the colour match before pulling it over her head. She picked up a brush from the dressing table and fixed her hair before standing in front of the full-length mirror again. Looks good, even though I say it myself. I never realised before just how much time and care went into a woman's appearance before, but I do appreciate what a difference it can make.

She found a pair of low lace-ups and started to pull them on her feet, but stopped immediately. She'd never worn shoes without tights before, and the material of the shoe felt uncomfortable to her bare skin. What to do?

"Belle, I don't want to wear tights today, if I'm wearing trousers. Is there anything I can put on my feet instead?"

Belle emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped round her body under the arms.

"Yes, I've got a pack of 'ankle-highs' somewhere. Try in the second drawer over there. No? Try the next drawer down."

They were like socks, only made of the same material as tights. Marion had never seen anything like them before. She pulled on a pair and slid her feet into the shoes. Perfect.

"So, where are we going, then?" she asked as they ate breakfast. "One of your little boutiques in Old Town?"

"I don't think so. There are a couple of shops which deal in sports gear, true, but they charge the earth for something that's little better than what we can find in an ordinary store. Don't forget two things." Belle pointed her fork for emphasis. "One, you may find that what we buy today doesn't work for various reasons, size, cut, material, you know the drill. Two, most sports clothing is only going to last two or three months anyway, so why spend money unnecessarily for something you're just going to wear to destruction? Mind you, we aren't going for cheap and cheerful, we do actually want it to last the two or three months. Let's see. We could go back to the retail park I took you to that first time, or we could find a different shopping area if you fancy a ride around. Were you thinking of trying it all out this afternoon, if we bought kit this morning?"

"Hm. We'll be busy tomorrow, we don't know how long that will take, so probably yes. Otherwise it'll be a whole week before I get another chance."

"We could always run into work," Belle said with a grin. "I've done that before, if the weather's good. It's about half the distance of a trot round the park."

"Really? I'm impressed. What do you do, then? Get changed and have breakfast when you get there?"

"Yes, that's right. I have to leave a bit earlier, of course, and of course I have to run home again, but it's doable. Not when I have to go grocery shopping as well, of course."

"Of course. We have to do some food shopping this morning as well, don't we?"

"We can do that on the way back after we've bought you some kit. I may buy a few extra pieces myself if I see anything that looks useful."

"Let's just go back to the retail park we visited before, then," Marion decided. "Tomorrow we'll be going somewhere I've never been before, after all. Do we know exactly where and when our appointment is yet?"

"I haven't had a chance to look at my messages yet," Belle replied. "I know Sophia will have forwarded the details to my home address. More tea?"

The two women left the apartment and walked out of the Enclave towards the tram stop.

"Make sure you remind me," Belle said as they boarded. "We need to get off at the right stop. Trouble is, I've done this journey so often it's on autopilot, I may forget. I don't want to end up back at the facility on my day off."

"Yes, I remembered rightly," she said as they walked towards the shops. "I thought there was a separate sportswear shop here as well as what's in the big store. Which do you fancy first?"

"Don't ask me, I'm only the victim here," replied Marion. The thought of advertising herself in brightly coloured skimpy clothing still seemed an alien concept, and one not done by sensible people like herself. Nevertheless, she pointed towards the sports store. "Let's try that one first. I'm sure you'll want to browse round all the goodies in the other store, so let's get all the things you claim I'll need first, so we don't forget."

Since they only wanted running gear, their problems were not so great as Marion imagined. The sports store was crammed with every type of garment and accessory for every sport imaginable, from several manufacturers, in a bewildering array of cuts and sizes. Belle settled on an overall look, which happened to complement her own gear, and led Marion off to the runners corner.

There they purchased running vests, shorts, tees, sweat tops, bottoms, headbands, wristbands and socks in a co-ordinating set. Each item had a basic colour of light grey, paler than the uniforms they wore for work, with bold abstract designs picked out in coral pink, lime green and primrose. Marion shuddered internally but didn't say anything. She used a cubicle to check sizes, but most things they just scooped from rails.

Next, off to the accessories, where they bought sunglasses, a peaked cap and a sweat-proof timepiece. Both women bought a running belt which had small waterproof pouches for essentials and holders for water-bottles, and the bottles to go with them. Then, off to another area to find suitable running shoes - that matched Marion's outfits, of course. Fortunately her feet just fit comfortably in the largest size available. She bought two pairs.

"What about, you know, sports bras? I don't think the facility ones will be any good. Do we buy them here? I think I saw some on the way in."

"Um, we could, but I think we'll do better to go back to Michelle. She's got your sizes already, and you know that the garments she'll have will be top notch."

"True enough. It's almost on the way back anyway, isn't it?"

"Yes. Also, you'll need a little something that a real woman wouldn't, you realise. Otherwise you might get rubbed raw down below."

"Oh? I didn't when I ran before."

"But your garments were cut differently, and they had a mesh liner which kept everything in place. Women's shorts don't need such things."

"Ah. Yes, that would make a difference. So, have we done here?"

"I think so. Let's go and have some coffee in the big store and consider how we'll manage the rest of our day."

They walked across the retail park and went into the big store, ending up in the coffee bar where Belle had brought Marion the first day she had shopped after being discharged. With drinks in front of them, they began to talk about what they might look at in the store afterwards.

"You've got that look on your face, I can recognise it. What do you want me to get now?"

"Am I that obvious? I was thinking, if we're going to be doing some social visits, you're going to need some suitable clothes. Perhaps we can look at some in here, get an idea."

"Social visits? I thought you hated the idea. What social visits, anyhow? Is this because we had dinner with Matteson?"

"Yes. It would be rude to ignore the poor man after all the trouble he's going to on our behalf, and I don't have a problem with his partner and their daughters. Besides, what I did when I was by myself is in the past now. I'm going to have to learn to adapt, to be part of a team, just as you are. There's no reason for me to subject you to my own prejudices. We'll almost certainly get invited back, and we might end up inviting them over to our own apartment. What do you think?"

Marion realised that Belle had finally appreciated that her bachelor days were over, at least for the present. She was trying to make sure that she didn't turn Marion into the same work-focused recluse she had been. The fact that they both worked in the facility would limit opportunities for others to overload them with social invitations, so Marion nodded.

"In principle I think you're right, and thank you for thinking about me. I'm really not happy about being flung into any kind of society just yet, but I think that we can manage the Mattesons okay. I'm quite taken with his daughters," she replied. "However, I don't think I want to go shopping for fancy outfits today, if you don't mind. Buying all this running gear has been bad enough. Besides, we've a lot to do yet today. We've got to visit Michelle, get food, have lunch and then go running. Have we time to try on outfits as well?"

Belle's face fell. "You're right, of course. I hadn't intended any trying on, actually, just getting you to see what's available and seeing if there's anything you like. We might be able to stop by on the way home one evening to try and buy, I think they have late shopping at least one night each week."

"Oh, that's all right, then. Yes, I don't object to just a wander round."

Although Marion was now more comfortable with the kind of clothes she was wearing, Belle still kept up a commentary as they went round the different departments looking at what was on offer. She explained the kind of outfit they might choose for visiting in the Enclave, if people came over, if they went out with citizens of that sort of rank, and so on. Marion was aware that Belle had not covered even half of what might be necessary for the future. She still had 'long evening gowns' in her mind from a previous conversation, not to mention 'State events'.

Eventually they came to the end and made their way back to the tram stop. After a short wait a tram came and they rode back into Old Town, where they alighted and walked through the streets to the shop which had 'Bouvier - Lingerie' over the door. Marion stopped Belle outside and peered through the window. On their first visit, Marion's eyes had just slid over the dummies and mannequins which displayed some of the various undergarments available inside. This time, Marion was more aware of what their function was, and wanted to inspect the garments with more understanding of what they represented for her new gender. Finally she nodded to Belle and they pushed open the door.

"Your apologies, citizen!"

"Why, Annelise! Service! Come on out."

Annelise Matteson and a second woman emerged onto the pavement. Her companion was dressed in ordinary day clothes, but her demeanour shouted bodyguard.

"Ah, Citizen Marchand and Citizen..."

"Hillier."

"Of course, Citizen Hillier, well met. Are you going into this wonderful shop? I've not long discovered it, and I can't imagine how I've managed so long without it. Oh, this is my companion Jane, she looks after the children on the days when I go to work, and she looks after me when I go out. You understand." They did.

"Service, Jane," Belle said to the woman, who nodded, but didn't offer her hand. "Yes, we've been buying running gear for Marion," Belle continued to Annelise. She lifted one of the bags she was carrying, "And we're going to get her some sports bras to go underneath. Michelle will know exactly what she needs. I've been coming here since forever, heck, she used to fit my mother when she was alive."

"I'm so glad our paths crossed," Annelise said. "I was going to ask if you'd care to accompany myself and the two girls into the park tomorrow. Since we talked about it the other night that's all they want to do. It would be helpful if we had someone who knew the area with us, and the girls would be happy to see both of you again, I'm sure."

"Hmm, that's tricky," Belle replied. "We both have to go to a medical interview tomorrow, and I foolishly didn't check my diary before we came out, so I don't know when it is, or for how long. I'll certainly check once we get home, which will be after we've been in here." She indicated the shop they were standing in front of. "You're in the Enclave directory?" Annelise nodded. "I'll send you a message once I'm home, then. You can call me to set up a mutual time once we know when we'll be back. Alternatively, how about this afternoon? We were going to go running, but we can change that round, it's no problem."

"My apologies, the girls have school today," Annelise said. "They're off tomorrow and the following day."

"Oh. It's a shame our cycles don't quite overlap. Still, that gives us one day in eight we can join them in the park. All other considerations apart, of course."

"Of course. So, I'll look forward to your message, then. Service, both."

Annelise and her shadow took their leave and Belle and Marion entered the shop, where Michelle was waiting for them, having watched the whole thing through the window.

"Miss Belle, Miss Marion, so good to see you again." Her brow furrowed. "Is there some problem with the items I found for you?" she asked Marion. "I didn't expect to see you quite so soon."

"No, nothing like that," assured Belle. "We've been kitting her out with running gear and come here for some sports bras. Oh, and something to control what's below, if you understand me."

"I do indeed," Michelle replied. She considered. "We're going to have to do this at the skin level," she told Marion. "You'll have to take everything off for me. Will that be a problem for you?"

"I'm in your hands," said Marion. "You've already measured me up once, you've seen all there is to see. Carry on, by all means."

Michelle turned the sign on the door from 'Open' to 'Closed'. While attending to Marion she wouldn't be able to handle another customer. Most of her regulars knew this, and would merely go away and come back later having had a coffee or done some more shopping. Occasionally she would employ an assistant, but as far as Belle was aware she hadn't had one for a while now.

The three made their way to the back of the shop and Marion stripped off in one of the changing cubicles. While she did that Michelle had gone into her stockroom with her datapad and found three possible garments that Marion could try on.

"So, you run, like Belle here? Try this one on first."

Marion struggled to pull the tight garment over her head and shoulders. It was not like the ones she had worn in the facility, which had been designed to fail under stress so that detainees couldn't injure themselves with them, and in consequence had to be made more roomy. The fact that her shoulders were a little wider than average made a difference as well.

"It's not going to work, is it?" Michelle said. "Try putting it over your head first, and then easing your arms in one by one. That's the way a woman would do it."

Marion remembered that Belle sometimes put things on that way. It was like crossing your arms when you took a top off, just something that men and women did differently. The garment went on, with some difficulty, and she pulled it down and arranged her breasts in it.

"Hmm. The banding is right, but the cup, such as it is, is wrong. You're bulging in the middle, here, and under your arms, here. You've about got your breasts in the right place. How did you know to do that? You can't have worn such things before you became female, surely?"

"No, of course not," Marion said. "But when I first went to the facility they made me wear sports bras because I had no bust, and after a while I started running on a treadmill, so I have worn such things before."

"Of course, I see. That one's not right, I can see that. Take it off and try this next one instead."

The next one proved a much better fit, or at least it appeared so until Michelle made Marion jog on the spot. The severe violence the moving body parts caused to her chest made her realise that although the bra functioned as a bra, it provided no stabilisation of the kind needed while running. The third bra was of a different design and proved quite firm under test.

"You'll always get some movement, so don't expect things to be completely rigid, now, will you? If your body's moving, the flesh will want to move with it so it's inevitable. But this one should prove comfortable enough for you. I would suggest that you take this one out and try it. If there is a problem, bring it back and I'll find something else. If it works for you, come back and I'll give you another one."

"Thank you, Michelle."

"Now, for your other problem, I think I'll need you to try on the clothes you bought, so that I can see how they fit. A sports bra is going to change the shape of your upper chest from the way you normally look, but there's usually enough stretch in your tops to make them fit well enough. The main reason though is that I want to see how far down your legs your shorts will come. It's no good me finding you some kind of support if it's going to be visible, is there?"

"We've done this all wrong, haven't we?" Marion asked. "We should have come here first and got the basics sorted before we went off to the sports shop."

Belle responded, "You're right, it just never occurred to me. We'll have to be more alert in future."

Marion had pulled her new purchases from their bags and now put some of them on. It seemed that the tops would work as intended. The shorts, however, were much shorter than she had expected. Michelle pursed her lips, then nodded.

"I can think of a couple of ideas to look at. You haven't given me much to work with, though."

She wandered off into her stockroom and returned with two garments.

"This one is really a pair of tight shorts, similar to cycling shorts," she explained while holding one of them up, "It's jersey with a fair proportion of Elastane. The legs will poke out of your running shorts, it's true, but that just contributes to the layering effect. You'd wear something like this under your running shorts when the weather is a little cooler, but not so cool that you'd need full length bottoms."

The material was nearly the same colour as the grey in Marion's shorts. She removed them and tried on the new garment, pulling the running shorts back over the top. She tried running on the spot to get a feel for the tightness and flexibility of the support garment, nodding when she stopped.

"Yes, these will work quite well when the weather gets cooler. What about the other thing you have there?"

"This is a pair of control briefs," explained Michelle. "They will hold you in place and shouldn't be visible. I need you to try them on, so that I can see if you'll spill out of the sides."

As Marion pulled off the two pairs of shorts she was currently wearing she asked, "Are these designed for men, then? I know that you have special items for them in your shop."

Michelle noted that Marion had referred to 'men' as 'them' and not 'us', but made no comment. Instead she said, "No, these are for women, but it so happens that the front is cut much wider than is often the case. I do carry items for men, but not the sort of thing you'd want to run in. They're designed to hide testicles and penis so that a man can wear close-fitting women's wear without anything showing."

"Oh," Marion said as she pulled up the control briefs. "I don't think I need to go that far, do I. I'm aiming for demure and respectable, not night-club entertainer." She pulled up the running shorts.

"How does that feel?" asked Michelle. "I can't see anything, and it looks like you are well supported. Jog on the spot for a bit so that we can see if anything escapes."

Marion did, and Michelle pronounced herself satisfied with the result. She gathered together all the things she had brought out and walked off with them while Marion dressed for the street again. The two customers waited by the till until Michelle brought out a bag with their purchases, accepted Marion's card in payment, and finally accompanied them to the door.

"I have no doubt you'll be back if you get any problems, ladies?"

"Michelle," said Belle, turning in the doorway, "you know we will. We trust you completely and we know you'd want to make sure that everything was just right. Thank you for all you've done today for my very special friend. Service, Michelle."

They stood on the pavement and Marion said, "She called us ladies! I thought that kind of thing was frowned upon."

Belle shrugged. "Don't worry, it's not really important. Michelle dates from way back before The Uprising, and she's been using that kind of language for so long I doubt anyone's going to change her. In all the years I've been going there, I've never heard of anyone reporting her, and she sees all the great and the good. Besides, don't you like the idea of being a lady sometimes?"

"I don't know. Wasn't that sort of thing why The Uprising happened in the first place?"

"As always," Belle replied, "the answer's yes and no. Perhaps you and I ought to spend an evening going over recent history. Because of who my father was, I'm a little more sensitive to what actually happened than most people are." She looked at the timepiece on her wrist. "Look, we took a little longer in there than we originally thought, and we've accumulated a few bags, so why don't we go home and have lunch now, and leave the food shopping till afterwards?"

Marion nodded. "That's a good idea, actually. It will give time for our lunch to settle before we go out on our run."

They walked back to the apartment, collecting a loaf of bread along the way for lunch. There was sufficient in the kitchen to feed them before they left once more to raid the local supermarket for more substantial provisions, Belle buying freezer items against unexpected guests.

"We're not planning a siege, are we? Why so much stuff?" Marion queried.

"There's two of us now, and our time might be limited in the future," came the reply. "You've seen how this week-end has disappeared, so I want to make sure we have a stock available in case we get caught again in the future."

Once the fridge, freezer and larder had been filled, they went to the bedroom and began to change. Belle's kit was tried and tested and familiar to put on, while Marion still had only worn some of her garments at Michelle's. Eventually, with Belle's help she stood kitted out and looking at herself in the full-length mirror.

"I'm surprised that shorts this short are actually legal," she remarked. "Not to mention the fact that this colour scheme is bright enough I should be visible from space. I'm glad we bought sunglasses."

Although her tone was light, in truth her running outfit was causing her anxiety. She had never had so much skin on display except at the swimming pool, and that was many years ago. She was afraid that people would see that her arms and legs were those of a male, not those of a female, and wonder about the rest of the body. There was even a slight bulge at the front of the shorts, despite the control panty.

"Do you think people will notice?" she asked. "I don't think I have a particularly feminine figure when it's not being helped by clothes. I'm afraid people might think I'm just a man with boobs."

Belle came behind her and gave her a playful slap on the rump.

"This looks distinctly feminine to me, my love," she said. "It's one of your better attributes, in my opinion. Don't worry, we'll just be a pair of women jogging, and there will be a few of us in the park, so no-one is going to be able to single you out." She looked judicially at Marion's figure. "I think I can see what you mean, but then I know the truth. As always, people are going to see what they expect to see. Come on, let's fill our water bottles and get going."

"No!" Marion said, as she'd just remembered their encounter with Annelise. "You'd better go and check your messages first. Don't forget about Annelise and the girls."

"You're right, come on."

Belle found a forwarded message from the Fertility Clinic, asking them to present themselves at District Medical Facility Three at ten in the morning. There was no clue how long it would all take, but they guessed that they would be finished by lunchtime, so Belle wrote a message to that effect and sent it to Annelise's address. Then they went to the kitchen and filled their water bottles.

"Ready?"

"Of course not, you should know that by now. Let's go before I wrap myself round something non-removable that will require surgery to separate me from."

As they came out of the entrance to Block Four Marion got her sunglasses out from a pouch and put them on.

"You don't need those yet, surely? I don't think it's that bright."

"They're to hide the fear in my eyes," Marion said. "I'm going off this idea by the minute. I'm feeling breezes places I never have before, even when wearing that summer dress."

"Come on," Belle encouraged. "Once we get going, you can focus on that, and then who cares what people see or think."

This time they stopped at the small security post by the gate to discuss what Belle and Marion were going to do. Since they would be going to parts of the park not covered by the detailed surveillance which operated around the Enclave and as far as Old Town gate, Belle thought it worthwhile to give the security post some notice of their movements.

"I don't think it would be a good idea to do a whole circuit of the park the first time, do you?" Belle advised. "Sixteen kilometres is a fair distance if you haven't done anything for a while."

"No, I agree. I think I might be able to manage half that, though. Is there a route which would allow that sort of distance?" Marion asked.

"I suppose so, but we'd be cutting across the park using some of the lesser-used paths," Belle considered. "I used to know the park well, of course, but it's not the same as when I was young. What do you think, citizen?" she asked the security officer in the post.

"You're right, citizen," the man replied. "Some parts of the park have been allowed to go back to natural, and it's allowed one or two undesirables to lurk about. If I might suggest, why not just go down the Avenue to the bottom, and then choose either direction to come back round the perimeter road? That's only going to be two more kilometres or so further than half the distance. Would that be too far?"

"I don't know, as I'm not familiar with the park at all," Marion replied. "I can always walk back the last stretch, which is going to be uphill in any case. Let's try that, then."

"If you're sure," Belle said. "Thank you for your suggestion, citizen," she said to the security officer, and the two women made their way through the turnstile.

In front of them the wide tarmac of the Avenue stretched down from the top of the scarp, splitting the park into two. It ran all the way down to Victory Plaza, where the larger versions of the small statues at the top were situated. Marion and Belle had walked part way down this road in their summer dresses on her previous visit to the park.

They began to jog down the slope, and Marion immediately got into difficulties. Despite all her hours running on the treadmill, running on a road was completely different. Things moved in an alarming way, and her balance was all over the place. She tried adjusting her gait, moving her hips, tucking her elbows firmly against her sides, nothing seemed to work. She watched in vain as Belle moved smoothly down the road ahead of her.

"Wait!"

Belle stopped and turned round. Marion came down to her at little more than a fast walk.

"I can't get it to work," she said. "My balance is shot, and everything feels so uncomfortable. I didn't have this problem on the treadmill, what's going on?"

"Hmm. Well, I'm no running coach, but I bet that any coach would have problems sorting someone like you out anyway. Let's see." Belle considered. "You don't have a typically female pelvis, so your hips don't work the same way mine do. You do have breasts, so your upper body weight distribution has changed. Your arms are longer proportionally than mine, so when you swing your centre of gravity will move differently. Of course, you're also running down a quite steep hill at this point, and that certainly doesn't help."

"It all seemed to work on the treadmill, though. What do you suggest I do, then?"

"On the treadmill, even though your legs are moving, your upper body isn't, you're essentially staying in the same place. When you run on a normal surface, you're trying to move from A to B, that means that you have to be leaning forward, so that your weight shifts as your legs move. That's the difference, it's the way you hold your upper body. Let me see you run for a bit, so I can get some idea of what you're doing."

Marion jogged a few metres and Belle kept up with her.

"That's enough, I think I see what's happening. You must stick your bottom out a little more. You've got more padding there, but it's needed to offset the weight of your breasts. Also, you need to keep your head and your torso a bit more upright even though you're leaning forward. The main thing, though, is that you need to rotate your chest as you stride. Like this," and she demonstrated. "Do that, and keep your elbows tucked in, and I think that will make the difference. Try it."

Marion found the co-ordination difficult at first, having to concentrate on every part of every step. It did seem to be less uncomfortable, and her movement became smoother. Once she understood what was happening, she slightly adjusted her movements and suddenly it all clicked, her rhythm came and she was able to devote less attention to it. Belle moved beside her.

"That looks good to me," she said. "Now, which way do you want to go?"

They had reached the back of Victory Plaza while she had been concentrating on her movements. In front of them, in the middle of the Avenue which broadened and swept to either side, was a huge stone monument, familiar from many video broadcasts, the Memorial for the Fallen. In the square proper, an immense statue stood at each corner, the final versions of the life-sized bronze studies at the top of the hill. The figure on each pedestal was ten metres tall, and the sculptor had stylised the features of all four of the Founders. It was still possible to recognise each, but only from the clothing each wore.

The Plaza was not as full as it would be for ceremonies, but nevertheless there were a great many people there, enjoying the sun and the fresh air. Since the eight-day work cycle had been decreed, a significant number of people were not at work each day so some had come to the Plaza to walk, to sit, to eat, just to laze in the sun, to play games and, like Belle and Marion, to run. Of course, there were also the occasional tourists, but as a rule they tended to stick to the shops in New Town and along the river. At various points around the edge of the open area there were stalls selling mostly drinks, ice-creams and fast food, with the occasional souvenir stand, and there were clusters of people round each in the warm sun.

"Go right," Marion puffed. "I definitely think we're going to need to stop at Luigi's on the way back."

They carefully jogged their way through the people wandering about across the Plaza and headed for the perimeter track at it's outside edge, clearly outlined by the double row of trees. Once away from the throng they were able to pick up speed, and for a while just quietly ran side by side. It was cooler under the part shade of the trees but Marion realised that she was glad of the skimpy clothing now, as her whole body had become slick with sweat. She recognised the state of mind which Marlon had previously achieved while running, and she was glad to find that part of her past was still relevant to her present circumstances, still something she could achieve and enjoy.

They passed another gate, similar in size to the Old Town Gate, with refreshment and trinket booths built against the wall either side of a wide opening in the encircling wall. Very soon a gap appeared in the trees ahead, a further gate, this time much smaller and with only a Proctor post one side and public conveniences the other. However, the way was blocked by a large number of school-children who were entering the small gate and crowding across the path. They were only nine or ten years old, both genders, accompanied by several teachers and helpers, obviously out on some kind of field trip.

The two runners had to slow to a walk, as did three runners coming in the other direction. There must have been fifty to sixty children, all making a considerable amount of noise, and not too interested in listening to their teachers' instructions at the moment. Marion took advantage of the change in pace to grab her water bottle and take a long pull.

"How are you feeling, love?" asked Belle over the hubbub. "I guess we're almost halfway round the route, although the toughest part is yet to come."

"Parts of my legs are beginning to feel the burn," Marion replied, "But so far, it's been better than I expected. I was afraid I was more out of condition than this."

"You worked out in the gym all last week," Belle pointed out as the last few stragglers came through the gate. "That must have made some difference."

"I wouldn't call getting unceremoniously flung about 'working out'," Marion said. "It must have made some difference, though."

The teachers finally managed to get some order through to their charges and herded them off to the side of the path, and the runners were able to get past on the gate side of the path. Slowly it curved round to the right, and soon they were running up a gradual incline. Very soon their speed had dropped and both were breathing hard. Fortunately by this time both had their second wind and solidly put in the effort to climb the steepening hill. It rose less sharply than the Avenue had, but nevertheless posed a challenge to any runner. The path continued curving, and then flattened out as they reached the top of the slope. All too soon they were staggering to a stop outside the cafe, both breathing hard. They found seats at an empty table and a young man came over to them, cloth over his arm.

"Service, citizens. May I get you some refreshments?"

"Service. Yes, can you get for us a jug of iced orange juice and water, two glasses?"

"Uh, that's not -"

"I know, citizen. But I've been coming here for a long time, and that's what Luigi always made for me when I've been running. Where is Luigi, by the way?"

"He's not well, citizen. Can I know who is asking?"

"Signorina Isabella e Signorina Marion, tell him. Can you manage the drink? Are you related to Luigi's family?"

"Yes, I am Roberto, son of Luigi's daughter Mariella. I'll see if we can manage your drink, citizen."

The boy disappeared into the darkness of the cafe. Marion relaxed, her muscles still humming from the effort of the incline.

"Does your bathtub still function?" she asked. "I think I could do with a long soak when we get back."

"Of course," Belle replied, "although these days it doesn't get a lot of use." A speculative gleam came in her eye. "You do realise that it's big enough for two people?"

"I might have guessed." Marion rolled her eyes. "I just hope that bathroom has been waterproofed enough."

"And afterwards," Belle continued, "I can give you that massage I promised you all those weeks ago."

"You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"What? No, I mean a proper massage, after the running we've just done. You'll need to have your muscles attended to, or they'll all cramp up."

"I thought that was the idea of the bath. Anyway, you'll have to hold up on the massaging if we're going to this clinic tomorrow. They might want me to give another sample."

Belle pouted. "You're no fun at all."

"That's not what you said the other night."

The young man returned with a huge jug full of orange, water and crushed ice, together with two glasses. Immediately he put them down on the table the two women grabbed the glasses, filled them and drained them practically in one go before filling the glasses again for a more leisurely drink.

"Mama says, Luigi is just feeling old, thank you for your concern. She told me who you are, I understand now. Enjoy your drink."

"Service, Roberto," Belle said to the young man, who returned to the cafe.

"I meant what I said," she continued. "I just want to get the kinks out of your muscles. It's been a hard day for you. If you want to go easy on the fun stuff, I'll just have to bravely bear it."

"I'm just being cautious, Belle. We don't know what we'll be asked to do tomorrow."

"Cautious? You? Talking about cautious, how do you feel now about the way you're dressed?"

"I must admit that I was concentrating so much on actually running that I didn't give it much thought, even when we went through Victory Plaza. I suppose I've got used to it now, and it certainly seems practical to run in. Although, this is one activity I would happily not have breasts for, the damn things are just so mobile."

Belle nodded, sipping her drink. "I know what you mean, but it's just the price we pay for being women. If it means we can fill out dresses and we can use them to drive men crazy, then we can put up with the downsides."

Having drained the jug Belle went into the cafe and paid for the drink before the two set off jogging along the perimeter path again. As they went through the turnstile past the security post the State Security man called to them.

"How was your run, citizens? Any problems?"

"Thank you no, citizen," Belle replied, "we were fine. Quite a few people down in the Plaza at the moment."

"Yes," the man replied. "In this sort of weather, more and more people seem to be coming into the park. It'll get real crowded in two weeks time, though, when Citizen's Day comes."

"Yes, thank you for the warning. Service, citizen." She turned to Marion as they jogged towards the entrance to Building Four. "I think we're working that day, so it won't be an issue. Fortunately."

"Is that one of those things you get roped into, then?" Marion asked as they pushed their way into the building.

"I used to. I think they've got the message now."

In the apartment both immediately went into the bathroom and stripped completely off, throwing their running clothes into the washbasin for the time being. Belle ran the bath while Marion collected shoes, hats, belts and other accessories and put them tidily in the other bathroom, then both waited for the water to fill the large container. Belle found some bath salts and some perfumed bubbly softener, and they both climbed in.

"I haven't done this for ages and ages," Belle said. "I'm so glad you thought of it."

"It's what we need," Marion said. "After a hard day shopping, then running. And, don't forget, I've had a tough week. I'm glad that course has finished, but I'm also glad I did it. Things are so much clearer now. Of course, I'm one of the very few who has seen the whole process from both sides."

"That's true. I think it's one of the things that makes you uniquely suited for the job you're now doing. Mmm, this is nice. I think we'll do this once a week, if we can."

"After we run?"

"Of course. If we manage that once a week, then the bath will fit in just right."

In the event they were too weary from the run to bother much with horseplay. They had a good soak, cleaned themselves up and emerged wrapped in their matching robes. Not bothering to dress, they headed for the kitchen and decided on a pile of spaghetti to fuel their enlarged appetites. Again, not being sure what tomorrow would bring, they left the wine in the cooler and settled for fruit juices instead. Afterwards, they sat on the settee and dozed, only waking when the room darkened, just the last gleam of sunset showing through the window. They tidied away their running gear, putting the clothes to soak and the other items to air, then made ready for bed.

"Are you sure I can't interest you in a little something?"

"I never said you couldn't. I just thought we'd better leave the male bits alone till we knew where we stood. What's wrong with Citizen Silver?"

"Nothing at all, love. Nothing at all."

* 16 Kilometres is about 10 miles.

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

The pain woke Marion abruptly in the morning. She tried to raise her body, but it was too much. That's what I get for running so far after such a break.

"Belle! Wake up, please!"

"Huh? What? Uh, Marion, what time is it?"

Belle opened bleary eyes and saw Marion's agonised expression in the dawn light. This provided enough impetus to rouse her fully from sleep.

"What's the matter, love? You look awful."

"My legs, I think they've cramped up," Marion replied through gritted teeth. "I think I ran too far yesterday."

Belle raised herself onto one elbow and pushed back the quilt. "Let me have a look."

She leaned down and ran her hands over Marion's calves, feeling the tight muscles.

"Yep, they're tight. I should be able to bring some life back to them, though. Any pain anywhere else?"

"The small of my back feels different, I'm not surprised after yesterday. I had to run in a posture I've never used before. My upper leg muscles, front and rear, are sore. And my Achilles tendons are tight, but that's probably from the calves, isn't it?"

Belle swung her legs out of the bed and stood up, heading for the bathroom.

"Roll onto your front, love, I'm just going to get some body lotion to use on you. If this goes on I'm going to have to get some proper oils."

With careful pressure and thorough kneading, Belle managed to relax the knotted muscles causing Marion's pains, and by the time Marion was satisfied that she could function in an almost-normal fashion it was time to get dressed.

"Dress much like yesterday?" Marion asked.

"I suppose so," came the reply. "We don't know what to expect, so we'd better dress in easy-to-remove clothing."

"That's what I thought," Marion said, "But I think I'll wear a skirt today. Trousers are all right occasionally, but I'm so used to skirts now that trousers felt odd. Funny, isn't it, after so many years wearing nothing else."

"Maybe. If you had to wear them all the time, I expect you'd adapt back quickly enough. It's just what you get used to."

They left the apartment in plenty of time, since neither had previously visited the place where they were going. It transpired that a tram route went right past the campus which contained the District Medical Facility, so they joined the queue of morning workers and followed them onto the next vehicle.

The campus contained three large linked blocks plus a number of smaller one and two-storey buildings scattered around the grounds. It was necessary to pass a security post to enter the fenced facility, and Marion wondered how emergency cases were handled. They got through without problem and then headed for one of the large site maps scattered about the area.

"Looks like we need to go to this building here," Belle tapped a rectangle on the map, located as far away as possible from their current position as it could be and still be on the campus. "We'll know, if there's a next time, to stay on the tram and get off closer."

They walked through the grounds and eventually came to a building which was signed, amongst other things, 'Fertility Clinic Two'. Inside, there were a number of people at the reception desk, and when their turn came they were directed upstairs to another reception area. Here they presented their cards and were asked to be seated and wait. The other people in the waiting area were a complete mixture, single men and women, young and older couples. They were the only pair of women present, but nobody appeared to be too interested in the fact. Finally they were called and directed along a carpeted corridor to a consulting room. When they entered, an older woman rose from her chair to welcome them.

"Service, citizens, please come in, seat yourselves." But she looked surprised. "I am Senior Consultant Katrina Malenski. I have here a message from my old friend Doctor Caparelli, asking me to have a look at your problem." She offered her hand, and Belle and Marion both shook it before making themselves comfortable. "One moment," she added, "I only recently received the message and I want to make sure I understand your circumstances." She turned from them to her terminal and they watched while she skimmed through the message Sophia had sent before turning back to them.

"Ah, if I understand this correctly, you wish to verify your fertility before applying for artificial insemination by donor, is that correct?"

"Donor!" exclaimed Belle. "Most certainly not. We wish to verify the fertility of my partner before she inseminates me."

Malenski was taken aback. "Ah, I'm sorry, citizens, perhaps I am talking to the wrong couple. Are you," she checked her terminal, "Belle Marchand and Marion Hillier?"

"That's correct, citizen," Marion spoke for the first time. "Sophia, Doctor Caparelli that is, is my immediate superior."

"There seems to be some mistake, I was expecting a man and a woman from the way that this message reads."

"Well, I was a man previously," Marion explained, "and parts of me still are. I was turned into a woman by means of regression therapy, and I think Sophia wants you to find out if I'm still viable."

"If you've had regression therapy," Malenski said, "then you're sterile. There can be no doubt about it, no doubt at all."

"Sophia - my superior - said that the semen sample I gave her contained active sperm," Marion said. I don't think she would have sent us to you if there hadn't been a chance."

"Active sperm? I'm thoroughly confused now," Malenski said. "You say you were previously a man. Perhaps it would help if you told me how you came to be in your present state."

Marion sighed. How many more times would she have to tell her story?

"Part of what I am about to tell you cannot be repeated to anyone else, as it's under court seal for reasons which will become apparent," Marion warned. "S-, Doctor Caparelli knows the whole story, so you can ask her for more details if you require them." Malenski nodded.

"Due to a series of mix-ups I was convicted in error of an offence I didn't commit. Since the Justiciar presiding thought that I was a woman masquerading as a man, I was sent to Female Offender Containment Facility Five, which is where Doctor Caparelli works. Part of the sentence was for me to be subject to regression therapy. I was there six months before anybody discovered the error and I was then released."

"Convicted in error?" Malenski echoed. "The State does not make mistakes. Especially like that."

"With respect, doctor, you have no idea," Marion said. "That's why the whole sorry tale is under seal. To continue, over the six months my body has been changed from male to what you see before you. It's now been eight weeks since I was released, and for most of those I have been impotent - in the male sense, that is. It was only last week that I was again able to use my male parts as nature intended."

"You still have male genitals? Even after six months? The therapy was not allowed to complete, then? Even so, I would have thought that you would have regained your original vagina after six months, even if the internals weren't fully restructured."

"Original vagina? I didn't have a vagina, that's the whole point. I was a male before."

"Yes, I understand that," said Malenski patiently. "But to be sentenced to regression therapy must mean that you had been through gender reassignment therapy beforehand, to make you male. Which means that you must have been female to start with."

Belle decided to take a hand, as the consultant was looking more and more confused.

"Citizen, there appears to be some misunderstanding here. Marion was born a male. He lived the first thirty years of his life as a male. He - or she - has never had reassignment therapy of any description. The regression therapy was a mistake, given in the belief that she was a woman who had transitioned, whereas in fact that had never happened."

Malenski stared at the pair in shock, as the full consequences of what had happened finally sunk in.

"Oh, my."

"Indeed, doctor," said Marion. "That's another reason that the details have to be kept quiet. The case was reported at the time of my exoneration, though, I wonder if you saw the reports?"

"When would that have been, can you remember?"

"About eight, nine weeks ago, I guess."

"There was a story... I think I dismissed it as typical garbled reporting." She leaned forward. "Are you telling me that was you, and the reporting was true?"

"I can't answer for that, or the accuracy of the reporting," Marion said, "but probably yes."

Malenski became lost in thought as she worked her way through the medical implications.

"Citizens, my sincerest apologies for the confusion," she said eventually. "Ah, let's see if I've finally got this right, then. You are Marion Hillier, and you were originally born male?"

"Correct, doctor. I was named Marlon previously."

"Now without considering the exact circumstances, you have undergone a course of regression therapy, without having previously undergone gender reassignment therapy?"

"That's correct, doctor. For six months. Drugs, and of course hormones."

"I was coming to that. I assume from your appearance that the hormone treatment is what makes you look as you do now. Do you know?"

"Yes, doctor, it is. That's why I've still got a penis and testicles, even though the activity of them was suppressed until recently."

Malenski nodded. "Of course. I assume that the regression drugs failed because they couldn't turn you back into something you already were, genetically speaking, of course, which is why you don't have a fully female body."

"That's the way Sophia explained it to us," Marion said.

"I can't think of a single previous case where this has happened," Malenski remarked. "Although I'm sure I can turn up one if I spend enough time going through the literature." She nodded again. "I begin to see the whole picture, now. Did you mention semen before?"

"Yes, doctor. When I was released, all my drug treatments stopped, although neither Sophia nor I realised this. So, over the last few weeks, certain masculine attributes have begun reappearing." Marion ran a finger over her top lip. "We noticed this first. Then I discovered that I could get an erection, and we wondered whether it was possible I could still be fertile. I did a sample for Sophia, and here we are."

Malenski leaned back in her seat, considering.

"So, from the point of view of you two as partners - I assume that you are partners?" They both nodded. "I should view your processing here as just a heterosexual couple, here to receive a fertility evaluation, is that correct?"

"Yes, doctor," Marion confirmed. "But there's another aspect, which is that I will need to receive hormones to keep me in my present state. Sophia was unwilling to prescribe for me until you examined me and determined what my condition is, and possibly suggested treatments as well."

"Oh. Yes, I see. What are you, exactly? Male, female?"

"Genetically male, physically shemale, socially female, legally male. And that's the way I'd like to keep it, if possible. If it isn't possible, then some kind of transition towards female would be preferred."

Malenski looked at Marion sharply. "You do realise that, since you've had the regression therapy, any transition you undergo will likely require surgery?"

"Yes, we're fully aware of that, doctor."

"And you, citizen," Malenski turned her attention to Belle. "I would assume that you are a regular female? If so, we can do the standard tests on yourself with no great difficulties."

"I am," Belle confirmed. "But... there is a consideration which you need to know about, before you do much more." She opened her bag, pulled out her card and offered it to Malenski.

Malenski raised an eyebrow, accepted the card and slotted it into her terminal, calling up Belle's ID details. Her other eyebrow joined it's fellow.

"Ah. I understand, citizen. I'll adjust the security level on your records as appropriate." She turned to Marion. "And you, citizen." She removed Belle's card and held it out to her to take back. "I'll need your card as well. It looks like most of this examination will be secured for both of you, given the circumstances."

With the facility's records set up and linked to Marion and Belle's profiles, they were asked to return to the waiting area at reception. After a short wait Belle was called and led off to an examination room by a nurse. A little while later, another nurse fetched Marion and led her to another room which contained a familiar chair.

"I just need to do a simple physical examination, citizen," the nurse said. "Can you pull down your tights and lift your skirt, please?"

Marion hung up her jacket and bag, pulled down her tights and panty to her ankles and raised her skirt before sitting in the chair. It was strange, the chair had no straps, but then the patients who would be sitting here would be willing enough, unlike those at the facility. The nurse, who had obviously seen such sights before, made a close physical examination looking for visible defects. Once she had finished she took a good sample of Marion's blood.

Marion dressed again and the nurse conducted her to an area where a body scanner was housed. Marion had to strip off and put on a simple hospital one-piece in a changing room before being led into the scanner room. This machine also looked familiar. Once again she was strapped in face down before the table slid into the machine. Only the central part of her body was scanned this time before she was removed and allowed to dress again.

"You've done this before," the nurse remarked.

"Yes, not so long ago. It's a complicated story."

"That's all right. We get some people who come here and panic the first time. They don't like being strapped down and sucked into the machine."

"Do you blame them? So, where to next?"

"I'm finished with you for the time being, citizen, but you're not finished, quite." She looked at her datapad. "Ah. You need to go downstairs, to Reception Point Three. Can you come back to the main reception up here when you're finished? You'll be about half an hour, maybe less."

"I think so. Thank you, nurse. Which way do I go?"

"Down there, through the double doors at the end and you'll find the staircase. You'll see signs when you get downstairs."

Marion followed the signs and eventually found the reception point. Behind the desk was a young woman who, although she was wearing a nurse's uniform, was quite attractive and heavily made up. Looking around Marion noticed a row of chairs with eight or nine men of different ages all trying not to look at one another.

"Citizen, I've been asked to report here."

"Ah, I think you've come to the wrong place, citizen." The nurse lowered her voice. "This isn't an area where women come, if you take my meaning."

"Then this is the right place," Marion said, having now recognised where she was, and what this department did. She pulled out her card and handed it over. The nurse accepted it hesitantly, and then slotted it into the reader, whereupon she turned a flaming red with embarrassment.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, citizen, I didn't realise!" she said very quietly. "Ah, I didn't know. Would you mind taking a seat, I'll try and get you processed as soon as I can."

Marion took a seat as far away from the men as she could. All of them gave her furtive glances before turning away. She could hazard a guess as to what was going through their minds as they sat in the waiting area for the Sperm Bank.

Another nurse appeared from the corridor, also heavily made-up and looking like a model, and she did a double-take when she saw Marion sitting in the waiting area. She referred to a datapad and called a name, and one of the men got up and joined her, and they disappeared along the corridor. Shortly she reappeared and went to the reception desk where she had a long, quiet talk with the receptionist.

Why the war-paint? Oh, of course, to help the men get 'in the mood', so to speak.

The nurse turned and called to Marion. "Citizen Hillier? I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. If you would come with me."

Marion stood and walked over to the nurse, all the men now looking at the pair with undisguised curiosity although each was trying hard not to show the fact.

"This way," the nurse said as she led Marion along the corridor. "We'll do you now to avoid any further embarrassment. This won't take too long. Do you think that you'll require any aids? We have rooms with equipment, costumes, videos, if you think that will be necessary."

"Thank you, citizen, no, I'll manage," Marion replied.

The nurse opened a door and ushered Marion in to a small room about the size of her office. At one side was a single bed occupying almost the full length of the room. On the other, an armchair, a washbasin, a paper towel dispenser and a waste bin. Marion couldn't remember the last time she'd seen paper towels. At the far end, a shelf or table screwed to the wall with a hatch above it, and an upright chair in front of the table.

"I'm sorry, citizen, the room's not exactly inviting," the nurse said. "The men don't seem to mind, though, and they're only in here for a few minutes, usually. I hope it won't put you off."

Interesting, Marion thought. Even though she knows what I am, and she knows why I'm here, she's treating me as a woman.

The nurse closed the door and moved to the far end, opening the hatch. "This is what you put your sample in," she explained, holding up a specimen bottle similar to the one Marion had used before, but in a sterile pack. "You should wash your hands thoroughly first, and the area round your genitals. Keep the sample container in the pack until you need it, that way we ensure that no foreign substances get into the sample. When you've finished, put the sample in the hatch," Marion could now see that there was a door on either side, "shut the door and press the button here to let someone know your sample is ready for collection. Then you can clean yourself up again if you need to. If you need inspiration, there's a terminal on the wall behind the door, there's the remote for it. The door won't open unless you open it, take as long as you need. Oh, I need you to put your card in the reader on the table, that will link your ID to the sample container."

"Thank you, nurse, I understand."

The nurse gave Marion a smile and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Marion looked at the pack, and then considered how to proceed. She removed her jacket, skirt and top to ensure they stayed clean and unwrinkled, and then washed her hands. Second thoughts saw her removing her tights and panty and placing them tidily at the foot of the bed with her other clothes before she carefully washed around her penis and scrotum, drying them with paper towels.

What do I do now? And why am I finding this so difficult? It's not as if I don't know how to proceed, I've done it enough times before. She tried stimulating herself while standing, but the posture caused her legs to react with pain, and she had to stop abruptly. My muscles still remember the running. Lie down on the bed, then.

Marion knew that much of the process of masturbation occurred in the mind, but whatever she tried to think of made very little impact towards the intended result. Yes, an erection came, but she couldn't get much further at all, all she achieved was a sore penis and aching hands while getting hot and sticky from the effort. Finally she was forced to stop, her frustration resulting in tears that ran down either side of her face as she lay on the bed.

I can't do this any more. More like, I don't want to do this any more. I'm just not as interested in having this kind of bodily response as I was, as I now know better. She started weeping quietly, her emotions thoroughly in charge. Marlon was making a comeback, but I'm not Marlon any longer. I don't know what I am, but I'm not that.

Finally she stood and wiped her face with a paper towel. There was a mirror over the washbasin, and her face looked terrible. Before she left she would have to do some emergency repair work, she couldn't appear in front of all those men looking like that.

Do I want to be a complete woman? Even if it involves surgery? I don't know. I work with a thousand women, does it matter that I'm not entirely like them? It certainly doesn't matter to Belle, nor to most of my friends. Why am I here, then? Why am I trying to force myself to do something I don't really want to do any more?

She stared at her reflection, trying to understand how she'd ended up in this room, this cold, unfeeling place.

Because it's for Belle. If we want children, of our own, Belle will have to bear them, and my body will have to provide sperm for them. That's why I'm here, so that Belle and I can have children together. I'm doing this for her.

Understanding came, and she lay back on the bed with renewed purpose. Closing her eyes she thought of her partner, how Belle had helped her through the first days after her release, how their relationship had got rapidly closer till there was no doubt that they were intended for each other. She thought how they had so much enjoyed one another's company, how Belle had shown her the magic that was hidden inside her mongrel body, how that first time she had been able to penetrate Belle everything had changed -

She grabbed for the sample container.

Marion walked slowly back to the reception desk. She'd taken her time, cleaning herself again and attempting to fix her face using the cosmetics she had learned to carry in her bag. The reception nurse looked up and her expression changed.

"Citizen!" she said, her voice quiet but concerned. "You had some trouble?"

Marion nodded weakly, drained after her near-failure.

"Wait here a minute," the nurse instructed. Shortly the other nurse reappeared from the corridor, after presumably conducting another man to another room.

"Julie," the receptionist said quietly as she approached the desk. "Take this citizen down to the staff room and look after her, will you?"

The nurse took one look at Marion's face and grabbed an arm. "Come on, what you need is a cup of tea."

Marion was taken gently but firmly along another corridor to a corner room where several comfy chairs were grouped round a low table, with tea making apparatus on a sideboard.

"What happened?" Julie asked as she filled the kettle and switched it on. "I'm sorry, citizen, you look as though you had a hard time. Are you not fully functional, then?"

Marion gulped through the fresh tears. "No, I managed a sample, eventually," she said, "but I don't know whether I want to go through that again."

"Do you feel like talking about it? I mean, I'm not sure I'd ask any man if they wanted to talk about it, but then, you're obviously not a man, are you? If you tell me anything, it stays in this room, okay? I'm Julie, by the way."

"Service, Julie, I'm Marion. I was a man, once, but I was forced to undergo regression therapy against my will." Julie's eyes were round. Marion waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about that side of it, it's over and done with and what's important is that I'm here now as you see me. I haven't been able to function as a male for months, up until recently. I have a female partner, and when the activity came back we came here to see if there was any chance I might be fertile - as a male, that is."

"Oh, I see. You want to put something by in case you can't do it in the future," Julie said as she found two cups. "Looking at you, you consider yourself to be female now, then?"

"I don't know what I am," said Marion miserably. "I thought I was going to be a woman, but all this business with male genitals has confused me. But, I don't think I'm really male any more. I don't know what I am."

"You're a Citizen of the State," June said positively. "A unique individual. Most of us are pretty mundane, but occasionally some of us can be pretty special, and you're one of those. To my eyes, you're making a good stab at being a woman, and you behave like one, too. The fact you have extra bits I don't have and I have bits you don't doesn't make any difference, in my opinion. You're a woman in my book." She poured water over the teabags. "You said that you'd recently been able to, you know."

"Yes," Marion said. "When they let me out the therapy was stopped, so I stopped getting the female hormones. I've only been able to perform for a few days. I'm hoping the consultants here can put me back on hormones, I don't really want to go back to being male."

"Milk, sugar, lemon? There you go. I can't imagine why you'd want to go back, but you've been there, I haven't, you'd know better than I. So, have you got a job? I know it can be difficult if you've got some kind of abnormality." She waved her free hand. "No, I mean what normal folk think of as an abnormality. You wouldn't believe the variations we see come through this clinic."

"I think I would. I now work in the containment facility where I was held, as it happens, and my boss is the Medical Director. She and I have become amateur experts at the gender business."

"Yes, I would think that you would have, especially if it's something neither of you have come across before. Now look, I want you to sit here for a few minutes and just relax and drink your tea, while I go off and process a few more of today's selection of studs." Julie shrugged. "Oh, they're not all like that, of course, some are like yourself, wanting to find out if everything functions as it's supposed to." She smiled. "I'll be back soon, I don't want my tea to go cold."

She stood and left, closing the door behind her. Marion sipped her tea, thinking back over what she had just endured. It worked before, didn't it, because Belle was there and you were trying something out together. Perhaps that's the way it's going to be in the future, I'm truly part of a team with her now. But, my whole mental state of mind was different, round the corner in that soulless room. I don't need that kind of thing any more. Of course not! Now I have Belle, and she stimulates me physically, mentally and emotionally in ways I could never do myself. A stray thought came. I may have to come again, if they need more. Well, we'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it.

Julie reappeared as Marion drained her cup, carrying a bulging make-up bag with her.

"I borrowed Alice's make-up, because I think you're nearer her colours than you are mine," she explained. "Come and sit by the window and I'll fix up your face for you before you go."

"I can't thank you enough, Julie," Marion said gratefully, "You've been most kind to a complete stranger." She moved to another chair where the daylight caught her face better, and Julie opened the bag and began. She cleaned away some of Marion's inexpertly-applied repairs and carefully blended in new foundation, powder, mascara and eye-liner. Marion's own lipstick finished the process.

"There," Julie said. "Now you look like a member of society rather than an extra in Zombie Apocalypse." She grinned. "We're not strangers, are we? Just women who hadn't met before. Now let's go and give those men another floor show."

They walked back down the corridor to the reception, and Marion thanked the two nurses again before heading for the stairs. When she reached the upstairs waiting area she found a twitchy Belle who had been wondering what was keeping Marion.

"Did you have some difficulty, love? And what on earth has happened to your face?" she asked in a low voice.

"Please don't ask me too much, or you'll start me off and I'll ruin it all again," Marion replied just as quietly. "Let's just say I got a little emotional, and I had some help."

Belle gave Marion a concerned look as the latter sat down, and she found and held Marion's hand tightly as they waited for the next step to happen. It took a further twenty minutes before they were again called to Malenski's office.

"I've been doing some checking of the records," she said, "And there is just a single other occurrence of circumstances like yours that I could find in the time available to me. I don't think I'm likely to find another, to be frank. I think what I'm trying to tell you is, this is uncharted territory, and I don't know anyone who knows what might happen to you in the future.

"I've had a look at the preliminary results from your samples, and I can tell you that it appears you've been lucky, you both appear to be sufficiently fertile that having children should not be a problem. Of course, we'll still have to go through your DNA thoroughly to ensure that there's nothing adverse there which might cause you or your children problems in the future, but that's all standard anyway as you know. We'll need to do some extra tests on the sperm to ensure that the regression therapy hasn't had any unforeseen side effects. We'll also have to determine whether you will be able to self-inseminate or whether you'll need to return here for assisted insemination.

"As for hormone supplements for Citizen Hillier, I have some suggestions on that score which I shall pass on to Doctor Caparelli, as she is your General Practitioner for all intents and purposes. So, all in all, a much better picture than I thought when you went off for your tests. Are there any questions you'd like to ask me, citizens?"

"No, thank you, doctor," Belle said.

"Thank you, doctor, not at the moment. If I think of anything in the future, may I message you?" Marion asked.

"Of course. I'll make sure a link is sent to your address for you to use. You may not receive an immediate answer, but I promise you will get an answer."

As they walked back through the grounds Marion explained some of what had happened to her, but she didn't want to make too big an issue of it in public. If Belle needed to be told more, it could wait till the evening. Belle was impressed that she had been rescued by the nurses, though.

A tram came and conveyed them back to Old Town. Because the tram dropped them at a different stop to their usual alighting point, they had to walk through different streets and took the opportunity to buy themselves lunch from a bakery that sold hot food. This they carried back to the apartment to eat.

"What are we going to wear this afternoon, then?" Marion asked as they cleared away the lunch debris.

"Ah, that's the eternal question, isn't it?" Belle said, loading plates into the dishwasher. "I really have no idea. I'm not sure what we'll be expected to do with the girls."

Belle's communicator chimed at that moment, ending the speculation.

"Service? Why yes, we are, as it happens. What? Yes, of course, come over, please do, we'll be waiting for you. End call." She turned to Marion. "That was Annelise. She and Jane will be bringing the girls over here directly. Once we see what they are wearing, we can change to suit. I know it's a cheat, but we're only going in the park, it's not as if we'd have to spend a hour or so getting dolled up, is it?"

They continued clearing away and making the apartment tidy until the door announcer chimed. Belle went to it and spoke to the concierge, and shortly afterwards a young man brought up their guests. The two girls headed straight for the living room windows.

"Gosh, mummy, come and look!"

Gretta was having difficulty seeing properly because of her height, so Belle smiled at Annelise, grabbed a dining chair and walked over to the window with it. She placed it against the window and gestured.

"There, kneel on that, you'll be able to see better."

"Ooh! You can see for ever from up here!" Gretta said when she had climbed on the chair. "Is that where we're going, mummy?"

Annelise and Jane had walked over to join the girls by the window.

"That is some view you have here, Belle," Annelise said. "I bet you never get tired of it."

"No, I can fully agree with that," Belle replied. "It's a view I've known all my life, of course. One gets to appreciate all the changes of seasons, the different weather, and the sunsets. Especially the sunsets. One definitely never tires of those." To the girls she added, "Yes, that's where we're going. I'm surprised you've lived here all this time and not gone in more often."

Annelise said, "We've been quite busy since we came, it's only recently that we've had a little more free time. I must admit I've been a bit uneasy about going in through the Old Town gate, after the problems we had over the other side of the park."

"You shouldn't be. Up here, as I mentioned before, things are much quieter, especially if you use the gate down there."

"I wasn't aware that you could use that gate," Annelise said. "I just thought the security post was there because of the gap in the wall, I didn't think residents could go in and out."

"Didn't Jane tell you?" Belle turned towards the other woman.

"Apologies, citizen," Jane replied. "I'm relatively new at this post and I know very little about the way the Enclave works as yet. I didn't realise the gate was active."

"Oh! Yes, the gate's always been there. I used to be in and out of it all the time when I was their age."

"You used to go in the park on your own?" exclaimed Josie hopefully.

"Hmm. Sometimes, yes, when I was a little older than you are now," Belle replied. "The park was a safer place then, so it wasn't so much of a problem as it might be now. But I would think that it would be safe for you to go in, if either Jane or your mother went with you."

Josie's face fell, as did that of Annelise and Jane.

"You're not exactly making our lives easier now, are you?" asked Annelise, although she did have a rueful smile on her face.

"These two seem fairly active to me," Belle replied. "Why not give them a chance to work off some of their energy if you have the opportunity?"

"You're right, of course. So," Annelise changed the subject, "what do you want to do this afternoon?"

"We've just finished lunch," said Belle. "If you'll excuse us for five minutes to get changed, we'll go out and have a walk to show you what's down there. I'm afraid we've been quite active ourselves yesterday and today, so we won't be doing anything strenuous this afternoon. I'm sure we'll manage to find somewhere to sit down and enjoy a drink at a suitable point."

"A drink?" Gretta was outraged. "You said we could get -" She caught her mother's eye and subsided.

"I haven't forgotten you two," Belle said with a laugh, "there will be ice-cream, count on it."

"Hooray! Yay!" The two girls cheered.

"If you'll look after them while we get changed," Belle said, and she and Marion withdrew to the bedroom.

"So, what do you think we should wear, then?" Belle asked after she had closed the bedroom door.

"Gretta's got a summer dress, Josie has a tee-shirt and a skirt of thin... cotton?" Belle nodded as they stripped off what they had worn that morning. "Jane also has a tee shirt and a cotton skirt, but of course she'd be ready for anything, so she's wearing clothing that's not going to restrict her movements. Annelise has a summer dress like those we wore the other time we went in the park. Should we be wearing those dresses again? If not, I think I have a thin summer top, but I'm not sure what skirt I'd put with it."

Belle nodded. "You're beginning to get the idea of this, aren't you? I know which top you mean, I don't think you have a suitable skirt to go with it, though. Remember that for our next shopping expedition." Marion rolled her eyes. "What? Anyway, I think you'll have to wear that dress again, and I'll put on a light top and a full skirt like Jane's. That way, I'll be available if we do get any trouble."

"I keep forgetting I'm surrounded by all these hardened warrior types," Marion remarked as she pulled the dress out of the wardrobe. "Especially when you act all meek and girly a lot of the time."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Marion walked over to Belle and kissed her on the cheek. "Not at all. It's comforting to a frail flower like myself."

"Who are you and what have you done with Marion?" Belle asked with mock suspicion. "Turn round, I'll pull up your zip."

They re-entered the living room, bags in hand. The girls came over to them, eager to get into the park again. Gretta frowned.

"Where's your daddy?" she asked. "Is he working?"

Belle replied gently, "My daddy doesn't live here any more. He's dead, I'm afraid."

Annelise said, "I think she's asking about your male partner, not your father."

"Oh! No, I don't have a man living here, Gretta. Auntie Marion here lives with me instead."

"Oh."

Gretta digested this as they went down and out of the building. The four adults and two children crossed the closed-off avenue and passed through the turnstile onto the perimeter path.

"Ooh! Statues," said Gretta.

"Yes," Annelise said. "Do you remember what they told you in school about the Founders? These are statues of the Founders."

Gretta walked up to each one and stared up at it.

"They look real! They're not real, are they? They've not been turned to statues by an evil witch, have they?"

"Fortunately, no," Belle said. "These statues were made when they were all alive. This one is my father."

"Ooh! Your daddy? That man was your daddy?"

"Yes, Gretta." Belle turned to Annelise. "I'm sorry, you're probably going to have to answer a lot of questions tonight, I hope you don't mind."

Josie said, "That's all right, Auntie Belle. I think I can help her sort it all out. She's asking an awful lot of questions at the moment."

They turned to the left, along the perimeter road in the direction which Marion hadn't yet been taken. Belle was carrying her big bag with cardigans and umbrellas, Annelise had a similar sized bag, presumably with wraps for herself and the girls. Marion didn't like to speculate what was in the bag that Jane carried.

"Why is there all this sand by the path?" asked Gretta.

"It's used for exercising horses," Belle replied. "It's kinder to their hooves than walking on the path is. I sometimes run on it as well when my feet get tired."

"You run in the park?" asked an interested Jane.

"Yes, have done for many years," Belle replied. "And yesterday Marion started coming round with me as well, that's probably why we're not going to be going too far today. It's been a while since she's run regularly, and she was cramped up this morning."

"I'd like to do some running," Jane said. "I don't know if we'd be able to run together, though. Our work cycles are too different."

Belle looked at her closely. "I feel I should know you, you look slightly familiar. Jumper?"

"Yes. I was in the 12th. You?"

"11th. Did you serve under old Weissman?"

"No, he moved on before I joined the Parachute Brigade. No, I was under Mendoza." Jane paused. "You're probably thinking about my older sister Carol, she was in the 11th."

Belle screwed up her face with the effort of trying to remember. "Carol... sorry, I can't think of the last name."

"Sievert. Carol Sievert. And I'm Jane Sievert, of course."

"Oh, yes, I know her. She was good. For a jumper, she was good."

"She's still there," Jane said. "Doing a staff job now. A pity I couldn't stay with her." She explained to Belle, "I got moved to Special Forces. One night I did a low level insertion exercise and a gust of wind caught me, slammed me into the trunk of a tree. Caught me on the neck, damaged my middle ear."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yes, it didn't affect my hearing too much, fortunately, but I can't fly any more, can't take the pressure changes. So I was transferred to this job, which I have to say I quite like, even though I wasn't convinced at the start."

"Jane's been brilliant," Annelise added. "I don't know what I'd have done without her. The girls get on with her really well."

Gretta, who had taken no notice of this conversation at all, asked, "Will we see any horses today, Auntie Belle?"

"Ah, I don't think so, dear. They tend to exercise the horses quite early in the morning usually. You may see one, but don't set your heart on one appearing, will you."

The trees lining the path on the downhill side ended after they had walked so far, and the group were presented with a sudden view over the lower part of that side of the park. Next to the path, a series of shallow flower beds descended the hillside like terraces. Each was around seventy metres long, and between one and two metres wide. Between each 'step' a path ran, itself only a metre wide. The beds were raised, so that on the uphill side the retaining wall was ankle-high, and on the downhill side knee-high. To get from one level to the next there were steps, but each set of steps was offset meaning that one had to walk between the beds in a zigzag fashion to progress.

"We used to call this the Giant Steps," Belle said to the girls. "Go, enjoy yourselves."

The girls looked at their mother, who nodded. They walked down the first set of steps, puzzled, but as the architecture of the feature revealed itself as a sort of simple maze they started running, and were soon scampering down the hill, chasing one another. The adults discovered park benches between the first two levels and sat down to watch their charges.

"This is an odd feature to find here," Annelise said.

"The way I was told it," Belle explained, "There was an old mansion on the top of the scarp in the days before this became a public park. This end was part of the grounds of the house, and in front of the house they had a water feature. Each one of these flower beds was a pool, with water cascading from one to the next. If you look carefully down there, you can see the the markings of the big ornamental pond which used to exist at the bottom.

"The house burned down, oh, more than a hundred years ago, I believe, and the gardens fell into ruin. When the city took over the land and made the park, they discovered the old water feature, but because running it would have been expensive they turned it into these flower beds instead. I used to spend hours along here running up and down the levels with other children from the Enclave. You wait, in a while it'll occur to them that they can run along the retaining walls, and jump from one level to another."

"Is it safe?" asked Jane.

Belle shrugged. "I dare say we might get the odd scraped knee, but that's about all. The slope isn't steep enough to be that dangerous. If you're concerned about security, the area's totally open, so we can easily spot anyone approaching, and of course there are pickups along the perimeter path anyway."

The women watched for a while, and then began to chat as women usually do. They unconsciously split into pairs, Belle and Jane talking about their army experiences while Marion ended up telling Annelise about her past.

"I'm sorry, I find your situation fascinating," Annelise said after a while. "It's hard to realise that inside that very female body there is a man trapped. I can't imagine what it must feel like for you."

"Not so much of the man any more," Marion replied. "And I'm not sure I'd describe myself as trapped, not exactly. But although it's mostly a woman's body, I can't claim that I think totally like a woman yet. I just don't have the background to do most things automatically the way you do. My confidence in my own abilities is near zero. Oh, I can get to and from work by myself now, and what I do in the facility seems okay, but most other things, it seems like I have to work very hard just to seem normal."

"Do you resent what they did to you?"

"Yes and no. There have been times when I've resented the system, or the way the system failed me, or Medical Director Pannal, but I've become accustomed to the way I appear now. I don't want to go back any more, although certain recent events did make me wonder if I should."

"Oh? Recent events?"

"Yes. My male genitals still function, it seems. After visiting you the other night, Belle and I wondered whether we could produce a family. This morning, we visited a Fertility Clinic so that they could find out whether I could still, you know, provide genetic material."

"Ah! That will be interesting, if you can." She stopped, then groaned. "Oh, my! How on earth am I going to explain all that to the girls? It's going to be bad enough in any event. I don't want them to get the idea that anyone can just switch genders when they feel like it."

"Well, in principle, they can, as I understand the mechanism. Thing is, you can only do it once, then change your mind once. That's all, and you have to be psychologically profiled beforehand, which obviously never happened to me."

The girls came puffing back up to where the adults sat, Josie in front.

"Mummy, there are cows."

A small herd of cattle had appeared in the distance, on the flatter part of the rough scrub land beyond the flower bed feature.

"Oh, yes," responded Belle as Gretta joined her sister. "They let cows in sometimes to help keep the ground cover down. They're all fenced off, they won't come anywhere near you, don't worry."

"See! Told you so," Josie told her sister. She turned back to Belle. "Are there any other animals in here, Auntie Belle?"

"Well, you'll see cows, and very occasionally sheep, deer, rabbits, squirrels and foxes. But only if you look closely, and not often at this time of day, it's too hot and too bright for them."

Annelise rummaged in her bag. "Here you are girls, have a drink." Both girls looked flushed from running up and down the hill and eagerly took the water bottles their mother handed to them. "Have you had a good time running up and down?"

"Yes, mummy, it's good fun. Can we come another time?"

"Of course you can. I don't know whether Auntie Belle will be able to come, but Jane and I will bring you both."

She brought out a small towel, and the girls used it to wipe the sweat from their faces.

"Had enough?" Belle asked. "You can probably play some more, but we've a bit of a walk back to get to the ice-creams, if you take my meaning."

"Ooh, yes, please," Gretta said, handing her water bottle back.

The party organised their things and started walking back along the perimeter path. When they reached the statues they kept going across the avenue and continued under the trees, eventually coming out in front of Old Town gate. At a gesture from Belle they headed for the cafe and commandeered a table. Marion noticed that Belle and Jane automatically positioned themselves at each end of the seated group, ready for any eventuality. A young girl came out and took their order, all four women deciding that just this once they would indulge in ice-cream treats. After all, the weather was warm, wasn't it?

"Not bad here, is it?" Annelise said, as she wiped her mouth clean.

"It depends," Belle said. "At holiday time, it can be both busy here and noisy. If you go just past those trees there's a playground the girls can use, but I thought that showing them the Giant Steps was going to be a better idea this time. If you go even further past the Steps, you'll find a grotto in the cliffs the girls can wander in. My nanny used to take us that far when I was their age, then come back and we'd have a picnic by the Steps."

"Us?"

"Yes, there were a small crowd of us, all children of ministers of the time." She turned to the girls. "Ice-creams good?"

"Yes, Auntie Belle. Thank you for bringing us here," replied Josie.

The ice-creams were followed by drinks, coffees for the adults and fruit juice for the girls. They all just sat in the sun and relaxed. Eventually they had to think about leaving.

"We'll have to go, Marcus will be home soon and I'll have to bathe these two before the evening meal," said Annelise.

"We should really be going as well, we've had a busy couple of days and I see Marion is looking a little tired," Belle said.

"Can we come out again? What about next week-end?"

"Possibly. We'll give you a call beforehand depending on how things work out next week," Belle replied.

*****

"I'm totally bushed," Marion complained as they got ready for bed.

"I'm not surprised," Belle replied. "I shouldn't have let you run that far yesterday."

"I don't think it was just that. This morning was draining, too. I'll be glad to get back to work so I can have a rest."

"You think so? You've got Talya to sort out tomorrow, don't forget."

"Oh, yes. Well, I don't expect that's going to be too much trouble, do you?"

"Where you're concerned, I've given up working out whether or not anything will be easy or hard. I'm constantly surprised by the turn of events."

"You and me both." Marion gave a sharp intake of breath as her hands found sore body parts. "That still hurts."

"What? Oh. I didn't realise that you'd had so much trouble this morning, you should have said. Anything I can do to help?"

"You help me just by being here, dearest. Come here, be gentle with me."

"The events of the last couple of days have really concentrated my mind," Belle said as they relaxed a few minutes later. "Before, I thought about children, but not in a personal way, if you know what I mean. I was just a single woman with a day job, and other people had families. Now, I begin to understand what all the fuss is about. Having taken those two delightful girls out, I'm beginning to think I want some of my own."

"You and me both," Marion murmured, half asleep. "And I couldn't have asked for a better person to have my children, could I?"

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

"Oh! Service, Trish! I should have realised that you would be involved."

Marion had entered her office on arriving at the facility to discover Special Technician Trish Flanagan moving furniture. Another desk had been brought in and Trish had moved Marion's desk out of the way to make room to assemble it.

"Service, Counsellor," Trish replied. "It needn't have been me, I just happened to have this shift this morning. I wonder, would you mind giving me a hand? I think the only way this is going to work is if your desk goes there and your trusty's desk goes there. Does that look reasonable?"

"I have no idea, ask me when we get everything set up and working. What do you want me to do?"

Between them they managed to arrange the desks more or less side by side and still leave room for chairs both sides. Marion discovered that she wasn't as strong as she once had been, attributing this to the hormone regime she had been on. They lifted Marion's terminal back onto her desk and Trish reconnected it to the wall sockets.

"There, Counsellor. At least you'll be able to get on with some of your work while I sort out the other desk. I'll tidy up your cables later."

"What more is there to do?"

"I've got to get a chair from Stores, and a new terminal. I've already unpacked that, it's been in my cubbyhole running some tests," the slim pony-tailed woman answered. "Then, once I've set that up in here, I'll need to run some checks to make sure that your assistant can only access those things we want her to."

"Oh. Will that involve me or her?"

Trish shrugged. "I can probably fake it on my own, but I don't see that we're going to cause any big trouble if you're both present to help. What time are you bringing her down?"

"I hadn't intended to bring her down until she has a terminal, but it looks like you have that well in hand. I'd originally thought to go up about the time they open doors on E Deck. Do you need a hand bringing the terminal up?"

"No, that's covered, thank you Counsellor. My shift-mate Jenny is bringing it up on a trolley. I'd better go and see if Stores can give me a chair, or whether I'll have to liberate one from another office." Trish gave a wink and bounced out of the office.

Marion decided to keep to her original plan and so she climbed the stairs to E Deck just before half past nine, walking along to the watch station.

"Service, all. I hope you all had a quieter weekend than we did," she said, nodding at Belle.

"She's been telling us," said Elena. "We trust you'll find time later today to tell us more." She grinned at Marion. "I must say, I really can't see you in running gear, especially the modern styles."

"Oh, you'd see me, all right," Marion replied, "probably from orbit. I'll drop by later, you'll want to hear how I did last week, won't you?"

"Indeed," said Elena. "I suppose you want to collect your new staff member?"

"Yes. How has she been over the last two days?"

"Better than we expected in some respects. She went down day before yesterday to get her new brown outfit and it nearly broke her up again. But we talked her out of it, and I think you'll find she's eager for the new challenge this morning. The others, well, we've had a couple who said 'why her and not me' but we've explained and I think they get it. The next few days are going to be interesting, a change in the usual E Deck routine."

After a few more words Elena activated the door release on those detainees who were eligible, and Marion walked along to Talya's door.

"Service, Talya."

"Service, ah, Marion."

She was seated on her bed waiting, dressed in trusty brown with white cuffs to the short sleeves. The expression on her face kept changing, from anxiety to curiosity to eagerness to fear, showing that she was uncertain of what was to follow. Marion tried to put her at ease, sitting on the bed beside her.

"Look, this is a necessary step for you," she said. "At some point, whether you become a trusty or not, you're going to have to adjust to life outside your room. This is just a tiny step in that direction. We're not planning to move you anywhere else, you're just going to D Deck to work every day, which is the same as I do. The job I want you to do is important to me, and it's important to the facility. It's not going to be hard work to start with, and it's possible it'll never be hard work. But it will give you some exposure to other people and other places, and that's what you need if you're to survive when you leave here."

"I know," Talya replied, "it's just that it's a big step for me. It's a big step to have someone trust me again after what I did before. I want to come and help, that's why I'm dressed like this. It's just that..." She stopped, unable to articulate her current state of mind.

"Time to take that step, then," Marion said. "Come on."

Marion stood, and when Talya did the same Marion folded her in a hug. Talya initially stiffened, and then put her arms round Marion.

"This is crazy," she said, relaxing. "But thank you, this is just what I need at the moment."

After a moment to compose themselves, Marion led Talya out into the corridor. Although not everyone who could come out had done so, a significant number had and were waiting for Talya's appearance. With her hand down by her side, Marion signalled to keep things low-key as she led the way to the watch station.

"Talya."

"Yes, Elena?"

"Remember, you'll have to book your lunch to be eaten in the Counsellor's office from now on."

Elena had told her previously, but she wasn't certain how much of anything Talya had remembered since she had made trusty status.

"Yes, Elena, thank you."

They passed through into the other half of the Deck. Martha was waiting, with a number of Marion's friends.

"Go girl," Martha said to Talya. "We're all so proud of you."

"Thank you, friends," Talya replied, tears in her eyes. "You've all been so good to me."

"And you," Martha turned to Marion. "You've been up to quite a lot since you last came, and we want to hear all about it. Okay?"

Marion nodded. "You will, but it may take time. Don't forget, I've been on this course for a week, I have a stack of things need seeing to. I'll try and get up here later today, but no promises, I'm afraid. Talya takes priority today."

"As she should. Good luck, Talya."

They walked towards the gate at the end of the Deck, and then Marion stopped. Talya stopped as well, but Marion gestured at the gate with her hand.

"Go on, we have to find out if the gate will accept you, and we can't do that if I'm standing there, can it?"

Talya walked to the gate and turned, a question on her face.

"Just turn the handle and pull," Marion said.

Talya turned the handle and pulled, and the gate opened. Her gasp was drowned in the cheers from behind, and Talya reflexively let go so that the gate swung shut again. Marion turned and scowled at the watchers, who merely grinned back.

Turning to Talya again, Marion said, "Go on! I want to see you on the other side of that gate with it shut behind you before I move."

Talya set herself, took a deep breath, pulled the gate open and walked through. The gate swung shut behind her, and Marion waited an instant before following Talya. When she joined the trusty on the other side, in front of the lifts, Talya held out her hands.

"No, I'm afraid you don't do that any more, either," Marion said. "The fact that you're a trusty means they - we - trust you, so no more cuffs. The only time you'll be cuffed again is if you need to go through the fence, but I can't see any reason for you to need to do that unless you're going to be meeting your legal representative."

Still slightly confused by the change in her status and the related change in privileges, Talya muttered, "What would I need with a legal representative?"

Marion smiled. "Truth. Now, do you think you can manage the stairs, or shall I call a lift?"

Talya moved towards the stairs and they began to descend.

"This doesn't feel right," she muttered. "It's very strange, not being cuffed."

"I know, I know, it took me a while to adapt myself," Marion told her. Talya looked at her in surprise before she remembered that Marion had once been in a similar position. "You do get over it, but unfortunately the reflex will probably be there for months if not years. That's one thing I discovered on my Shepherd training course last week."

"Oh? Yes, I suppose so. Did your course turn out the way you expected?"

"Yes and no. There were parts that I more or less knew, and there were parts that took me completely by surprise. Suffice it to say that I'm much older and wiser now. Here we are."

Marion waved Talya into her office just as Trish stood up from where she had been plugging in the new terminal.

"Uh, I'm not sure how to introduce you," said Marion doubtfully, "or even if I should."

Trish solved that problem by stepping forward with her hand out.

"Service! I'm Special Technician Trish Flanagan, everyone just calls me Trish. I'm just fixing up your terminal. You must be Natalya Makrova, the Counsellor's new trusty, pleased to meet you."

The two shook hands.

"Service," replied Talya, looking at Trish with astonishment, "Yes, I am, though most people call me Talya. Your pardon, er, Trish, your appearance seems at variance with the regulations."

Trish smiled. "Yes, well, I work behind the scenes usually. I'm not technically allowed to come into contact with detainees, although trusties like yourself are considered safe. That's why I'm permitted to have longer hair. I haven't even passed the Shepherd's course like the Counsellor here. Shall we attempt to get you connected, citizen?"

Trish waved at the seat in front of the terminal, and then pulled Marion's seat next to it and sat down. Marion took the hint and borrowed one of the visitor's chairs. Talya sat down and looked at the terminal for a few seconds before turning it on.

"Hm. I'm going to have to get reacquainted with keyboards with keys that move," she commented. "This display's bigger as well." She tapped a few keys. "I'm in. What next?"

Marion sat and watched as Trish led Talya through some tests to determine what limits Talya had within the system. Once Trish was satisfied that Talya could not access detailed parts of staff records, even if Marion or Trish was within range of the terminal, she checked that the same restrictions applied on Marion's terminal as well when Talya attempted to use it.

"Do you think that will be a workable solution, Counsellor?" Trish asked.

"You'll have to let us work at it for a few days," Marion replied. "I suspect that we're going to have to ask you to keep fine-tuning the access restrictions as we encounter problems we haven't come across before. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Trish said. "You know I'll have to run any changes past Director Khiskov, but I know you're not going to ask me to adjust anything unless it was really necessary."

"What about the Counsellor's diary?" Talya asked. "We'll both need access to that. I'll need to check what she's written about any case she has ongoing, as well."

"Counsellor? How are you organising your notes, if I may ask?"

Marion opened her terminal and pulled up her diary. Her case notes were simple attached text files. Both women looked at the files with horror.

"With respect, Counsellor, this method of organising your cases is... not efficient," Talya struggled to be polite. "We're going to have to work out another process, particularly as you visit more and more of the facility."

"I know," Marion said. "Remember, I don't come from an administrative background, which is why I needed help in the first place. What do you suggest, then?"

"If I may, Counsellor," Trish put in, "I think we can use the existing system that the medical staff use, which makes sense given that you're part of the department anyway. With your permission?" Marion nodded. "I'll use Talya's terminal to set it up, but the same functions should be available to both once we get you organised."

Trish pulled her chair in front of Talya's terminal and started work, pulling up files and explaining the functions and working processes - to Talya. Marion managed to follow for a while, but then just sat back and watched the two of them working.

"- so then, when she's on the Decks, if she needs to make notes, she can -"

"- so how does her datapad sync to the files then? Oh, I see. But what happens if -"

"- and then, that links to the main record, but -"

"What happens if we need to find a detainee?"

"You use the search functions like so -"

"- and if I need to insert a legal reference, or some other kind?"

"Easy. You just use this menu here, and -"

"- that's clever. Of course I had no access to most of this upstairs, so -"

"- links to outside agencies? Why would you want to -"

"- problems are welfare problems. How are we going to -"

Marion watched them, amused. How could anybody possibly have predicted what would happen when these two met? And with the pair of them on her team, how could she fail?

"What?" They suddenly realised that Marion was looking at them with a smile on her face. "Counsellor?"

"I see you two are getting on like a house on fire," she said. "I followed some of what you were saying, I hope one of you will explain it to me when you've decided how it's going to work."

Trish reddened. "Ah, maybe I shouldn't -"

"Nonsense. The pair of you are perfectly matched for this. You know how the systems work, Talya knows more or less what I need, set it up and then I can do what I do best, and leave Talya to what she does best."

"Thank you, Counsellor," Trish replied. "Um -" She paused.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I have no objection to you re-appearing here to assist Talya or myself. And if you want to call Talya during the day, I've no objection to that either. Obviously you'll have to check back with your boss."

"Whatever are you implying?" asked Talya.

"Nothing at all, citizens. I've just been watching a pair of very active brains in action. You are obviously comfortable in each other's presence, there's no reason I can see that you shouldn't cross one another's paths again."

Talya looked at her suspiciously. Trish just looked guilty. Marion decided that she had probably said enough and to just let events take their course.

"So, is there much more to figure out?"

"We've got most of it sorted out, Counsellor," Trish replied. "As you said, I'll probably have to come and fine tune it for a week or so."

"Good. Did I hear you mention a search function?"

"Yes, Counsellor."

"Then can you find me a detainee called Jeanette Sutton, please? I'll have to pay her a visit today. She arrived last week so she should be on... J Deck."

"Certainly, Marion," Talya replied. "Is there some particular reason..?"

"Yes, she literally bumped into me one day last week while we were doing the grand tour. I suspect she might be innocent."

Trish sat up straight. "How did you figure that out, Counsellor?"

Marion explained the circumstances, and they both agreed that she was probably correct. Talya brought up the relevant file and was immediately concerned.

"This looks suspiciously familiar, Marion," she said. "Does that video still look like anyone we know?"

Marion bent over their shoulders and looked at the woman on the screen.

"Indeed it does," she said. "And, more to the point, it doesn't look anything like the Jeanette Sutton I met downstairs."

"Even I recognise that face," Trish said. "Does this mean that this case is connected to your own, Counsellor?"

"Yes." Marion nearly let out a few choice factory-floor words. "I thought all that had been cleared up and the software fault fixed," she finally said. "Trish, who do we go to to get any action on this one? Your Director? The Controller?"

"A moment," Talya said. "Look at the date on this video clip. They've been chasing her for five weeks, which would place the incident about the time you were cleared. This might just be fallout from before the problem was solved."

"Oh. Panic over, then. But we still need to get this citizen released, and I think we ought to make sure that the particular fault responsible has been fixed so it doesn't happen again. Talya, can you see what you can do this end while I go and talk to her?"

"Yes, Marion, of course. But first?"

"Yes? Something I should have done?"

"Yes, we have to order lunch. Remember?"

In the event it was a further half an hour before Marion could leave the pair of them in her office, still talking a tech-speak which she could hardly make head nor tail of. She decided that, even though they had used the better part of the morning, there was time to check over some of the inhabitants of J Deck rather than just concentrating on Citizen Sutton. Part of the half-hour had been taken up with a detailed examination of her case notes, explaining to Trish exactly what had happened in Marion's case and how this new one compared.

Marion climbed the stairs to J Deck and walked along to the watch station.

"Service. I've come to have a quick word with your charges, if I may. I have a special interest in a Citizen Jeanette Sutton, but I'll do as many others as I can squeeze in before lunch, and then come back and do the rest afterwards. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Service, Counsellor. Of course, carry on," the Senior Shepherd replied. She check one of her displays. "Citizen Sutton is in fourteen."

"Has she said anything since she's been up here?"

The Shepherd shrugged. "She says she's innocent, but then, quite a lot of them do. I did have a look at her case file, but although it looks a little odd there's no obvious error been made, I don't think." She shrugged again. "The State doesn't make mistakes, does it? If she's in here, then due process has been followed, so she must be guilty."

"Actually," Marion said, nettled by the woman's unthinking assumption, "I'm living proof that that's not necessarily the case. You should ask around, how I got this job. Fourteen, eh? If you would release the door for me, please."

Marion could feel the woman's eyes burning into her back as she walked away. Was it possible that there were still people working here who didn't know about her? She knocked on the door of J14 and entered.

"Service, citizen. No, if you would stay over there, please, I think you're still supposed to be in quarantine."

"Service," the woman replied. Marion could see that she was still unhappy at being taken from her social circle and shut up in a room on her own, but that she had taken Marion's previous advice and just settled down to wait. She just made herself comfortable on her bed and regarded Marion with interest.

"You're the Counsellor, aren't you? We met that day I came to this place."

"Yes, I am. Please call me Marion. I must offer apology for the delay in coming to see you, it was unavoidable. When we met last week I was on a course, and it would have been difficult for me to find time to come here. This is the first opportunity I have been able to manage, and you are my first priority."

"You still believe me, then? I wondered. Some of the Shepherds say that everyone who comes in maintains their innocence. What makes you think I'm any different?"

"Because I saw you when you first arrived, remember," Marion replied. "You didn't have much clue what was going on, just the same as myself. I was convicted and sent here, and it was six months before they discovered the mistake. I remember just how bewildered I was when I arrived, and you looked just the same. I don't think you were faking that, were you?"

The woman gave a wry smile. "No, I definitely wasn't. But you said, it took six months to get you out. Does that mean it will take that long in my case?"

"No, there were... special circumstances in my case which meant that certain things were assumed to have happened which hadn't. I don't think they will apply in your case, especially with us actively helping things along. Besides, we have looked at your case file and it seems that yours may actually be related to my own, which means that we should be able to clear you quite easily."

"What do you mean? I was put in here, it seems, for stealing money, but I can't work out how they think I did it."

"Tell me, did you have anyone closely related to you die recently? Not long before this offence occurred?" Marion asked.

The woman thought about the apparently tangential question. "Yes, I did, my mother. I had to register the death, as my father died years ago and my brothers are in the army. Why? How is that possibly connected to stealing money?"

Marion sighed. Another innocent caught in the trap. "It's a long story, and I'm not sure if I'm permitted to tell you any of it. Let's just say that registering a death allowed someone to do something creative with ID cards. In my case it was me registering my partner, with you it was your mother. Please keep this to yourself. You've just confirmed to us what happened, so we can now contact the appropriate people and organise your release."

"Oh, really?" Already she looked brighter. "How soon do you think..?"

Marion shook her head. "You know the drill. It might be tomorrow, it might be a month. First of all, of course, we have to verify that what we think is the case actually is. That may take some time, as contacting anyone outside the facility from within can be difficult, even for people like myself. In the mean time, how are you coping in here?"

"Actually, apart from not being able to talk to anyone, it makes a change not having to rush around all day. I'm treating it as a sort of enforced holiday. It's given me some time to do some thinking."

"You've no family, then? No-one outside concerned about you?"

"No, no-one. I lived with my mother. My brothers are in army depots elsewhere in the country, not nearby."

"Have the Shepherds explained what happens to you in here?"

"Yes, I know I could be in here alone for a month. This place seems a lot less scary than I'd imagined."

"Uh, the scary part comes after you've been here a month. It depends exactly which Deck you get moved to. Some of them can definitely be described as scary."

"Oh. Thanks for the warning. I don't suppose I get a choice, do I?"

"Hardly. In any event, assuming that you are actually innocent, you should be out of here by then. If you need to speak to me, there's a menu option on your terminal, under the Sick Bay heading. I'll probably be out and about, but if you leave a message, I'll call you back when I can, or even come up and visit you in person, okay?"

"What do you do, then? Are you some kind of legal advocate? Can you talk about anything else?"

"No, I'm not legal, although I now have some legal support working with me. I'll discuss anything with anybody, if they feel they need it. Personal, financial, legal, social, you name it. If I can't help you directly, then I can probably find someone who can. Why?"

"Oh, just curious. Are you talking to everyone up here?"

"Yes, although I came to you first. Is there something else you want to talk to me about?"

"Thank you, Counsellor, no. I'd better not monopolise your time."

Marion let herself out of the room and walked back to the watch station.

"All okay, Counsellor?"

"Yes, she confirmed our suspicions, which means she's probably innocent as she states. Before I have a closer look at her situation, I'd better visit some of the others you have here. If you start me off at room one, I can work my way along."

Marion managed to clear half of the Deck before lunch, and she returned to her office with details of other cases to investigate. Talya was at her desk typing furiously.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"I'm transcribing your notes," Talya replied. "I can cut and paste the bulk of it, but for each entry I have to set up a supplemental record first, and that's what's taking the time. How did you get on with Citizen Sutton?"

"She confirmed what we suspected," Marion replied. "She had to register her mother's death just before the thefts started."

Talya nodded. "We guessed as much. It would be information that wouldn't be on the case notes, of course, so nobody would get the connection. Trish is going to ask Director Khiskov to contact the Proctor in charge of her case, and also Proctor Julian, to ask them to call you this afternoon if they can. If we can't make external calls, it seems that we can accept incoming with some prior notice."

Marion put her datapad onto her desk and fired up her terminal.

"Are you about to update your notes?" Talya asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Because now we've got this new system organised, you should be able to update the records directly."

"Oh. I tried to find a way to do that before, but couldn't."

"Trish has made the relevant linkages. If you go to the utility menu, and then -"

"Ah! I don't remember that option being there before."

"Exactly. Now, all your notes are keyed to the detainees, aren't they? So, when you now go to the transfer screen, they'll be automatically added to the correct files. They'll also be left in edit state so that you can correct or update them before you commit the new entries."

"Talya, this is exactly the reason I needed you down here. I would never have managed this on my own, I just don't have the right skills."

"Well, I didn't do it on my own, either. Trish played a big part."

"I'm impressed how quickly you two got me sorted out this morning."

"Fortunately, you didn't have too much done already that needed undoing," Talya said. "It's still going to take me a couple of days to transfer all your old notes, but using the new system we set up should make life much easier for you in the future."

"Well, don't flog yourself, will you? Otherwise you might find there's nothing to do by the end of the week."

"Not likely to happen, not at the moment, anyway. I've been looking over some of the case notes as I've transferred them. Some of them we've already talked about, but there's a few I could do more investigation on, and with the access to databases I now have, I can do so much more."

At that moment the trolley arrived with the lunch trays. The trusty pushing the trolley furrowed her brow when she saw Talya, as she couldn't work out what the white sleeves of her uniform meant. After checking with Marion she found the right trays, placed them in front of them on their desks, and departed. They both popped the film over the cutlery slot and lifted out knife and fork. Talya took one look at her implements, bowed her head and wept.

"Whatever's the matter?" Marion asked, concerned. She thought about getting up and physically comforting Talya, but decided against it for the time being.

Talya waved her knife and fork. "It's real, isn't it?" she said, tears running down her face. "I wondered whether I was having some kind of fantasy where people let me do things just to keep me occupied. These are real, aren't they? They're not going to go floppy in half an hour, are they?"

Marion understood. To be permitted to use rigid cutlery meant that the powers-that-be really did trust her. It was an important milestone along the path of her rehabilitation. Up until now she had just absorbed the changes to her life without murmur, but the change of cutlery was a symbol she couldn't ignore.

"No, my dear, they aren't," she replied. "You're a trusty now. With the fresh responsibilities you now have, you get benefits. It's the next step on your road to release."

Marion had found some disposable medical wipes in her treatment room and she pulled one out from the pack in her drawer and passed it across to Talya, who used it to wipe her face.

"I'm sorry," Talya said. "You must think me silly for reacting in this way."

"On the contrary," Marion replied. "I'd have been surprised if you hadn't had some reaction. I remember what you were like before, remember, I know this has been a big step for you. Now, come on, eat your lunch before it gets cold."

"Yes, citizen," Talya said meekly.

They had finished lunch and were discussing the finer points of the revised system when Sophia and Alison came back from the canteen. Waving Alison on, Sophia poked her head round the doorway.

"Service, both! A belated welcome to Sick Bay, Talya. I'm so pleased to see you here." Talya reddened. Sophia turned to Marion. "Everything going okay?"

"Yes! Much better than I expected, actually," Marion replied. "Talya with the assistance of Trish has shown me the error of my administrative ways, and I'm sure their new system is going to make my job so much easier. We're going through the backlog of my past efforts at the moment."

"Oh, I wish someone could do the same for me," Sophia responded. "This job is like holding back the tide sometimes. Still, I'd better leave you two to it. I'll look in later."

She turned to go, but Marion called out, "Sophia? Can I come and talk to you this afternoon some time?"

Talya immediately looked wary, but Marion dismissed her concerns with a hand wave.

"No, it's nothing to do with you, Talya. This is something different."

Sophia turned from the doorway. "Why don't you come along now, then? Before I get stuck into my paperwork purgatory."

"Will you be okay on your own?" Marion asked Talya, and at a grunt and a nod got up to follow Sophia.

"Before you get started," Sophia said as they settled into her office, "I've had a note from my friend at the fertility clinic. I must apologise to you and Belle, of course I understand your situation intimately, but I had forgotten that others might not, otherwise I would have worded my original message more clearly.

"Professor Malenski has told me that your situation is unique, and it will take her a day or two further to work out the possible consequences, but overall your chances appear to look good. She's going to send me another note tomorrow with some ideas about ongoing hormone therapy for you, and then either tomorrow or the next day she will send you and Belle, via myself, a detailed breakdown of your fertility prospects. Will that be acceptable?"

"Yes, Sophia, definitely yes!" Marion replied.

"She did say that she'd been told you had some trouble at the sperm bank," Sophia continued in a softer voice. "She says that if they need more, it's possible that alternative arrangements can be made to spare you the stress of going there again. She'll discuss it with me over the next few days."

"Thank you, Sophia. It was definitely not a pleasant experience."

Sophia looked at Marion expectantly.

"Ah, what I came here to discuss is yourself, Sophia," Marion began cautiously. "I hope you won't think me amiss, I'm not even sure that I should be giving you this kind of advice, especially unsolicited. I know that you're not obliged to take any advice I give you, but as friend to friend I hope you'll listen to what I have to say."

Sophia raised an eyebrow, and then got up and shut her office door. "I would always listen to your advice, Marion. So far, you haven't managed to put a foot wrong."

Marion gave a wry grin as Sophia sat down again. "There's always the first time. So, what I have to suggest to you is this. I've watched you do your job for five weeks, about the same length of time as I've been doing mine. I've watched you struggle with the system, and it's been very similar to my own struggle. I would like to suggest to you that you and I are very similar in lots of ways, that is, we prefer to be doing things, not sat in offices ticking boxes on forms. I think that this job is wrong for you. You're a doctor, not an administrator. Please consider not accepting the Director's job on a permanent basis. I think the job you're currently doing should be done by someone with a managerial background, not a technical one. You are a doctor, a very good one, and that's what you should really be doing in here."

Sophia gazed at Marion in silence for a very long time before nodding. "It's certainly not what I was expecting you to come in here to say, Marion. However, as I said before, you always have good advice. I can't deny that I've not been happy since I've been in this office, but I've always thought that I just had to get on with it. It would never have occurred to me not to become Director permanently, but now you've put the idea in my head it's beginning to look more attractive by the minute." She nodded again. "You don't know this, but there's a Facility Board meeting at the end of this week when I would probably have been ratified into the job. I'm beginning to seriously think about turning it down. I really don't like being stuck in this office."

"I don't want to upset anything, Sophia. There are people who consider it unnatural that someone would refuse a promotion, I don't know how this would affect your record, or your future prospects. I can only give you an opinion based on what I see, as well, I can't answer for your record before we met."

"Don't worry about that," was the reply. "I'll survive anything like that, if it happens. You're right, I'm a doctor first and foremost, and that's what I should be doing." She looked directly at Marion. "I will take a couple of days to consider what you've suggested in detail, Marion. And, as Acting Director, I'll also have to consider what will happen if I don't take the job." She smiled. "I'm glad I have someone on my team who can see such things with clarity."

"Except where it concerns herself," Marion commented. "It's funny how we can each see some things clearly, and yet other things we're clueless about."

Sophia sighed. "It's what they call 'being human', I think. Thank you very much for your thoughts. You may just have prevented me from making a big mistake in my career."

When Marion returned to her own office she heard Talya's voice, and stopped just before the door so that she could hear what was being said without Talya realising that she was being overheard. None of this was confidential, in fact Trish was probably listening to it all on her monitors downstairs, but Marion wanted to find out out how Talya would cope on her own.

"Counsellor's office, service. I'm afraid she's in a meeting with her manager at the moment, can I take a message? Or, can I help you myself at all? Oh, I see. Well, I don't know if she's visited that Deck as yet. If you give me your room number, I'll make sure that she contacts you. Yes, she will. Thank you, citizen, glad to be of service. End call."

Marion walked back into her office. Talya looked up and smiled.

"You are in demand, aren't you? I've fielded three calls since you went out the door. Have you visited S Deck yet?"

Marion thought. "No, I don't think so. It's on my list, but since I've not been here for a week I'm just concentrating on the Decks I have been previously, where people already know me. What's the problem, did she tell you?"

Talya shook her head. "No, she said it was personal, I didn't press her. Was that the right thing to do?"

"Um," Marion thought for a moment. "You're probably right. After all, you've barely been doing the job for half a day yet, and presumably you've not had much experience in talking to people you don't know face to face. In fact, I'm impressed that you did it at all. I wasn't sure that Trish had set things up so that you could receive my calls when I wasn't around."

"To tell you the truth, I just forgot," Talya admitted. "I was so engrossed in what I was doing I just answered the call automatically. And with the system set up properly now, I could just pull up the caller's record and have all her details ready in front of me. That's the way you'd want to do it, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, it is. You'll have to show me how to do it next time someone calls. As to answering calls when I'm not here, carry on. I think you'll have to just be cool and impersonal to start with, just collect data, if you think they will answer your questions then ask them. Remember, they will call expecting to find me, not a strange trusty. Once we've got going properly, and people know that you're here and are a safe pair of hands, then you can start doing a little more."

"Oh! Well, I don't know that I'd be qualified to do that. I mean, I'm not a Counsellor, am I?"

"Perhaps not, but remember, I'm not exactly qualified either. There's no reason that you can't help callers with legal problems, though."

Marion understood that Talya probably wasn't going to make any kind of counsellor. Her personality didn't run to high levels of empathy with those she spoke to, if they weren't close friends. However she would provide a useful filter for Marion's needs, and she had the all-important legal and administrative knowledge to be an essential part of Marion's fledgling department.

The two women spent most of the afternoon going over the improved systems, with Talya guiding Marion through the necessary processes till the latter felt comfortable using them. Marion received calls from the Proctor who had arrested Sutton and from Proctor Julian, the latter concerned that another person had been caught in the ID scam, but had been overlooked by his investigation. Marion gave Julian all the details she had, and passed on a link to the other Proctor so that Sutton's case could be resolved. She also sent a summary memo on the case to the Controller, effectively warning her that Citizen Sutton might need to be treated differently in the near future, and preventing her being moved to one of the open Decks where she might be vulnerable. At half past four Marion called a halt to their activities.

"I think it's time we stopped for the day," she said. "You're beginning to droop a little. You've probably used a fair amount of energy today that you're not used to doing."

"But we've still got all these cases," Talya protested. "It's only half past four!"

"They'll wait," Marion replied. "Don't worry, we'll get through the workload. I just don't want to wear you out on your first day when there's no need."

"Oh, very well," Talya said reluctantly.

The two women shut down their terminals and stood, tidying their chairs. Talya hesitated visibly before stepping towards Marion and putting her hands around her waist, hugging her close. A surprised Marion wrapped her arms around Talya.

"This still seems like a crazy thing to do," Talya murmured. "It... seems to help in some strange fashion, though. Thank you, Marion, for allowing me to assist you today. You've been such a help to me that I'm glad to be able to do something in return."

Abruptly she released her arms and took a step back, putting her hands behind her back and lowering her eyes in embarrassment. She had isolated herself for so long that she was only now beginning to rediscover the healing power of direct contact. Marion smiled and put one hand on her upper arm.

"The choice was so obvious that it made itself," she replied. "You're here because you're the right person to help me. You're also here because I value your opinion and experience, and, yes, you're also here because you helped me when I needed it." Talya's eyes flickered up to Marion's. "I don't consider it as a debt that has to be repaid, rather as one friend helping another." Talya's eyes began to glisten. "Shall we go?"

They closed the office before heading for the stairs. By the time they had reached the top Talya's mood had recovered, and she was now looking confident again. Marion again waited until Talya let herself in through the gate before following her onto E Deck.

"What hours do you want me to keep?" Talya asked as they walked towards the watch station.

"I thought to start with, half nine till half five," Marion replied. "That is, from doors open until the evening lockdown. That's about the same as office hours, after all, just shifted by thirty minutes, and allows you to get back and have a few minutes to yourself before the evening meal."

Talya was surprised. "There's no set hours prescribed then?"

"No, but we'll keep it simple to start with. If the workload turns out to be light, I've no objection to you coming back here if you wanted to. There's no reason for you to be stuck in an office downstairs on your own if there's nothing to do."

"But, if you're out on the Decks, won't you want me there to take calls and so on?"

Marion shrugged. "It has possibilities. I hadn't thought that far ahead."

"And another thing," Talya persisted, "what about the days that you don't work? Should I be available for calls then?"

Marion stopped. "I definitely don't want you working all eight days without a break," she said. "It wouldn't be fair to you."

"Thank you," Talya responded, "but I am a detainee. What else am I going to do with my time?"

"What did you do the last four and a half years?" Marion asked. She continued, "Look, we'll have to discuss this tomorrow morning, all right? We'll rough out some kind of working timetable, then we can adjust it as circumstances require."

"As you wish, Counsellor."

They passed through the next gate into the space in front of the watch station. Marion stopped by the station while Talya gave the watching Shepherds a cheery wave before passing through the next gate into her half of the Deck. She turned and entered the resident's lounge, and there was an instant's silence followed by the hubbub of voices.

"What on earth have you done to that woman?" Elena asked in amazement. "Did you find a stash of illegal drugs, or have you raided the pharmacy? I don't think I've ever seen her look that animated."

Marion chuckled. "Two things happened to her. She found herself a task that she relishes doing, and she met Trish Flanagan." The look on the Shepherds' faces was priceless.

"Wow," breathed Kristina. "I never thought what might happen if those two ever met."

"No," said Marion, smiling with the memory. "It never occurred to me either. Trish was still in my office connecting Talya's terminal when we went down. It was like watching a chemical reaction, the moment they made contact, they fizzed and bubbled away like anything. I just stood clear and let them get on with it."

"Do you think that might cause a problem?" Elena asked.

"No, I don't think so. I'll keep my eyes open in any case, but I think they will both benefit from each other, they have a lot in common."

"You sure?" Elena asked. "Talya is old enough to be Trish's mother."

Marion shrugged. "Whatever it takes. If she starts to mother Trish, it will help her connect with the real world again. Trish was quite happy to find someone at her intellectual level to talk to. I'm not going to push them together, but I'm not going out of my way to keep them apart either."

Belle asked, "Were you just escorting Talya home, or are you visiting the Deck?"

"Social call, really. As Talya is a proper trusty, she doesn't need escorting anywhere, does she? Of course I'll keep an eye on her for a day or two till she's confident of moving around on her own. If you don't mind, I'll drop in the lounge first, and then come and have a natter with you after lockdown is called."

The Shepherds nodded, and Marion followed Talya's path into the lounge. All the chairs were taken, but Marion didn't mind standing.

"Your new assistant has been telling us how she's been making your life easier," Martha greeted her. "I'm glad you managed to find her something to exercise her mind on."

"Yes, well," Marion said, turning to Talya, "Be careful what you tell these people, won't you? After all, they're all hardened criminals."

There was a general snort of amusement at that statement.

"Yes, of course we are," Martha responded with a chuckle. "That hasn't stopped you from bringing us some juicy tales of the strange world beyond E Deck, has it?"

"Truth," Marion replied. "But Talya is now privy to certain things, and you wouldn't want her to lose her new status by being indiscreet, would you?" Talya gave her an anxious glance. "You're not stupid. I trust you, that's why I wanted you downstairs. Just be careful in what you say about what you do and who you see. It's only what I have to do, after all. People tell me things because they know I respect confidences." She smiled. "However, there's much else that is fair game. Have I told you all yet what really happened in that housing block I went to live in?"

Eventually the evening dinner chime went and the occupants of the lounge dispersed to their rooms. Marion returned to the watch station and they talked about a number of subjects of common interest, leaving the juicy stuff till the evening shift arrived. This left her only having to recount once her shopping trip, the run in the park, their visit to the clinic - Marion and Belle by mutual agreement left out the most stressful details, although it was obvious that there had been some - and their trip to the park with the minister's partner and her two daughters. This last interested the others greatly, and sent them all off into talk about children.

The kitchen trusty appeared to collect the residents' trays and the day shift prepared to leave the Deck. Marion walked off with them and they descended in a group to the locker room.

"So, Sophia says that Malenski thinks our prospects are good," Belle said as they walked up to the tram stop.

"This whole idea has got a grip on you, hasn't it?" Marion asked. "Ever since I got zapped and had an erection."

Belle blushed, which just made her look more desirable. The whole shift was walking up together, and Elena looked knowingly at Kristina.

"It does sort of shift your priorities," Elena commented. "I know that I would have been the same if that had happened to my partner. Even so, it's made me think about having children of my own, and I think the others are much the same." There were muttered assents from Kristina and Louise. "Talk of fertility clinics focuses the mind of a woman quite powerfully."

"What's the situation with regard to work?" Marion asked. "Is there any provision for children? Creches, that sort of thing? What about time off?"

"The State understands that children, especially young ones, need their mothers," Elena replied. "At the same time, it recognises that the post of Shepherd, amongst others, is quite demanding in the family sense and therefore doesn't require compromises the way it might for other job positions. There is a creche, but it's in a separate building further along the road behind us. A Shepherd with a family might be moved to other work with shorter or more flexible hours. She certainly wouldn't be allowed to stay on Deck. Funnily enough some of the Site Security Shepherds are part-timers with family, but few Deck Shepherds would go that route because of the departmental rivalry. Some just drop out until their child goes to school, some find other work that fits their family arrangements better."

Would Marion consider working on her own at the facility while Belle brought up their children? The answer was an emphatic yes! It was more or less what Marlon had been planning anyway and this new partnership would probably work out in a similar way. Neither of them had any worries over money, all they had to do was get Marion's residency sorted out. She scowled.

"What?" Elena said as they joined the queue at the stop. "You don't like the facilities' ideas on parenthood?"

"No, it's not that," Marion said, "I was just thinking about our residency problem, which might be the key to all this. It's just irritating, one thing after another."

"There's always a way," Kristina said. "There's always a way."

*****

"So, you want my children, then?" Marion asked as they lay in bed, flushed after some gentle and fulfilling lovemaking.

"No, I want my children," Belle replied mischievously. "I could consider borrowing you for five minutes or so to get started, if you happen to be around."

"How do you know I'll be around?" Marion responded. "I might run away with Ruth."

This caused Belle to crack up in a fit of giggles.

"You and that behemoth? I'd pay good money to see that! Actually she looks like a kind and gentle girl, I hope she's got what it takes to work on the Decks. No, my love, I'm not going to let you wander off just yet. I want you - I need you - all to myself." She pulled Marion across for another kiss.

After coming up for air, Marion said, "I'm not budging out of here, beloved, I like the luxury too much. Seriously, though, I have all I need right here. We're a strange couple in many respects, but it all kind of works, doesn't it? We've not actually been together that long, even though we've known each other for longer, but it seems that we've always known one another somehow. I would like to think that we belong together, and that's the approach I'm going to take. We both want children? Yes, and they're going to be our children, and we're going to bring them up together, and watch them go out into the world, and then I want us to grow old together."

"You old softy. You might look like a girl who makes men go weak at the knees but this is one girl who goes weak at the knees when you say things like that. Come here, dearest."

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

"Ah, I think you'd better put another skirt on, love," Belle remarked as Marion came in to the living room for breakfast.

"Why?" Marion asked, hastily looking down. "Have I got a mark on it? I hope not."

"Er, no, dear. You're showing a slight bulge in a place no woman has a bulge. You'd better find a skirt that isn't quite so tight."

"What? When did that happen? I can't see anything."

"No, you probably won't when you bend forwards. Go and look in the mirror."

Marion stumped off and returned a little later in another skirt. She sat down at the table and started on the toast and coffee.

"I suppose that's happened because of the hormones," she remarked. "It's made things a little more prominent, let us say. And I hadn't realised that all my skirts are so straight and close-fitting." She looked accusingly at Belle. "This is just an excuse for another raid on the shops, isn't it?"

Belle looked offended. "You turn up here in a storm like a waif, clutching your little bundle of clothes, I take you in and this is the thanks I get? I don't need an excuse to take you shopping, you need more of everything just to get your wardrobe started properly." She upended her coffee cup to drain it and reached for the pot. "Yes, we must get you some more clothes, of course. All we did before was the bare basics, just as I told you then." She emphasised her point by waving the pot alarmingly over the table. "You need more of everything, it just takes time. If we're going to become part of the social scene round here, you're going to need a good selection of things to wear. Don't get me started on what we'll need to buy you in a few months when the weather changes and we have to prepare you for winter."

"I know, I know," Marion conceded. "It just seems like it's incessant."

"It is," Belle replied. "We're not called 'high-maintenance' for nothing, you know. And part of the point of going on heavy shopping trips is so that we don't have to spend every week-end buying things. I noticed you changed your top as well."

"Well, yes, I had to. This skirt doesn't go with the top I was wearing before. At least to my eyes."

"No, it doesn't, I agree with you. It looks like you're finally beginning to get your eye in where colour combinations are concerned."

"Maybe. It's not as if I have a huge range to select from at the moment." Marion sighed. "I guess I'm going to have to be more careful when my wardrobe is filled better, aren't I? I think I can do the obvious colour clashes, but then there's fabrics, patterns and cuts to take into account as well, isn't there? I'm not so certain I can cope with all that just yet."

Belle smiled fondly. "That's why you have me, dearest. Of course, like most girls I learned such things from my mother, and you have to do it the hard way, so my job is to help you along. Some coffee?"

*****

"Service, Marion, Talya."

Alison came through the office door followed by Wanda, the new Medical Orderly, who was pushing a trolley. Marion recognised the equipment on the trolley as the laser hair removal device.

"Service, Alison, Wanda. That for me?"

"Yes," Alison said. "I have to go and do some of the women on J Deck, but it occurred to me I could do you in your own treatment room first, if that's okay with you." She frowned. "Sophia did tell me you needed some tidying up?"

"Yes, I do. Come on through."

Marion stood and led the way through the connecting door into her Treatment Room, which up till now had been left unused.

"Do you use this room at all?" Alison asked.

"Not at the moment," Marion said. "I did wonder if I could use it for face-to-face interviews, but it's probably easier if I just use a spare room on the relevant Deck, if the detainee isn't already in a single room. I also thought that Talya might have had to go in here, but I think the arrangement we have currently is probably better. I certainly need my hand held at the moment, till I understand how this system they set up works."

Alison's eyes flicked to the connecting door.

"Everything working so far?" she asked.

"So far, yes," Marion replied. "We've only been going a day, and that was a bit of a strange day, but so far I've got no complaints."

Wanda meanwhile had wheeled the trolley next to the chair and taken the power cord off to plug it into the wall.

"What about you, Wanda? Is Sick Bay living up to your expectations?" Marion asked as she settled herself into the chair.

"It's been quiet so far, thank you Counsellor," the blonde woman replied. "I like it that way, it'll give me time to find my way around before it's necessary for me to do something in a hurry." She pulled down the big light over the chair and touched the switch. Alison nodded thanks.

"Let me have a look at you," Alison said to Marion, leaning in towards her face. "There's quite a lot here, isn't there? Is that because of..?"

"I was on a female hormone regime until I got released eight weeks ago," Marion explained. "That kept most of this down, but since they were stopped my normal male hormones have resurfaced. Sophia's supposed to be sorting me out a new course of meds sometime today."

"Ah, that explains it. Can you put these eyeshades on, please?"

Alison carefully and methodically lasered all the hairs she could find on Marion's face. Once she had finished, Wanda dabbed some lotion on to sooth the inflamed skin. Marion winced as the lotion was spread on her top lip.

"I'm sorry," Alison said, "those bristles on your top lip were quite tough, I had to turn the power up somewhat. Does it hurt very much?"

"I'm trying not to squeal like a stuck pig, but it probably doesn't hurt as much as when Sophia originally did it," Marion replied. "Mind you," she added, "it took five sessions over nearly two weeks the first time. It was probably just as well I was in isolation at the time, I must have looked a right mess."

Alison moved the light so that it lit Marion indirectly, and examined her face.

"I think you're going to have to sit today out in your office," she pronounced. "If you go on the Decks looking like that, everyone will run away screaming." She smiled at the appalled expression on Marion's face. "I wouldn't worry, it should all have gone away by the end of the day. You won't have to creep out of here with a bag over your head."

"If you're wrong," Marion said with feeling, "I shall come looking for you with the first blunt instrument I can lay hands on. I still have reservations about passing as a woman in the first place, without looking like a plague victim as well."

Alison grinned. "That's what I like to see in my patients, a little fire. Good. Now Wanda and I can go and disfigure some poor unfortunates on J Deck."

The two women made their way out of the treatment room into the corridor and Marion returned to her desk. Talya looked concerned.

"That looks bad, does it hurt much? I'm sorry, that must be a stupid question."

"It stings somewhat," Marion replied. "It probably looks worse than it feels." She gently tested the skin with a fingertip. "Alison is right, though, I'm going to have to stay in here today to allow it to recover. Oh, well, there's plenty we can do between us without me going anywhere, isn't there? We can get right into some of those cases you flagged. First of all though, there's no mirrors in either of these rooms, so I'm going down to the bathroom to have a look at my face."

She stood up and began to walk towards to door.

"Marion, wait!" Talya called. "You don't have to leave your desk, you can do it all from your terminal."

"Pardon? What do you mean?"

"Come here, I'll show you." Marion returned, seated herself and pulled her chair towards Talya's desk. "No, you'll need to do this from your own terminal. You see this pick-up here?" She pointed to a barely visible hole in the top edge of the frame. "That's what sends your picture to the other end when you make a video call. There's a standard function which allows you to use it to show your own face to yourself, didn't you know that?"

"No," Marion replied. "I know you can get your own picture up when you do a call, but that's all. Is this something that only the facility terminals can do, then?"

"No, Marion, all terminals can all do it," said Talya patiently. "Look, go to the main menu, then tools, then utilities, then pick 'Self Reflection'".

Marion complied, and found she was looking at herself.

"Well, I never realised that! All this time, and that function was sitting there and I never knew it."

"It has advantages over a mirror," Talya said, "This slider at the bottom controls brightness, that one does contrast, and the slider on the left side controls magnification. Much better than having to get the light just so when you do your hair or make-up."

"You're right," said Marion, experimenting. "I do look bad, don't I?" She shrugged. "As I said, we have enough to keep me busy today without me exposing other people to this wreckage. I just hope it's calmed down by tonight, that's all."

Marion and Talya worked for the greater part of the morning, developing some of the cases she had already started for various detainees. They were making good progress when Sophia poked her head round the door.

"Marion! Got five minutes?"

"Yes, of course, Sophia."

"Will Talya be okay while you're gone?"

Talya nodded. "Thank you, Director, Marion and I have been looking at some of her existing cases and there's plenty for me to do on my own."

"Good. I won't keep Marion long."

Sophia led the way back to her own office and shut the door behind them.

"What on earth has happened to your face?"

"Alison lasered off those hairs I told you about last week."

"Ah, I'd forgotten about that. Now, I've had a message from Professor Malenski concerning your hormone treatments," she continued. "She's run down the possible treatments she thinks are suitable for you, but she's left the choice up to you and me."

"Oh? I get a choice?"

Sophia nodded. "Yes, it depends on how much male functionality you want, basically. The treatments I can prescribe for you essentially fall into two parts. Firstly, female hormones to ensure your breast development completes, and to keep your skin tone and body shape properly feminine. Secondly, and this is the optional part, androgen blockers to stop your body being taken over by the Testosterone you're still producing. Take the blockers, stop being able to produce sperm, amongst other things. Don't take the blockers and you can continue having penetrative sex with your partner."

"I get the feeling it's not quite as simple as that," Marion observed.

"Yes, that's so. If you take the blockers, you'll go back to essentially where you were when you were released, no sperm, no erections, testicles reduced in size, reduced body hair. If you don't, then there's a battle within your body between the two hormone types trying to pull you in both directions. We'd probably have to prescribe you stronger female hormones and that could have other consequences. Don't get me wrong, it's doable, there are a number of people out there with your physical configuration who do just that, but there's always the possibility that with high levels of both male and female hormones it would leave you open to complications. Breast and prostate cancer, for example."

"So you're saying that I could do that, but you wouldn't advise it?"

"Not in such strong language, but more or less, yes. There is another slight complication, that if you're needed to give another sperm sample, we can't start the androgen blockers yet. Professor Malenski did mention that in her message, the delay will probably only be a week or so before they know whether they have enough. I can start you on the feminising hormones straight away though. It should help keep your skin tone up, although you don't really seem to need that at the moment."

Marion nodded as she thought through what Sophia had just told her. She and Belle had discussed possible futures, and they would both accept the situation if things went back the way they had been at the start. It would just make the present time that bit more special to them. She understood that she couldn't have both male and female hormones running through her veins for any length of time, she would have to choose one over the other, and the choice had really already been made.

"The choice practically makes itself," she said to Sophia. "Start me on the female stuff, and then once we know I have enough sperm on deposit, so to speak, we'll move straight on to the blockers as well. As I told you previously, I'm not going back, so apart from the legacy aspect I've no significant interest in retaining any male characteristics."

Sophia nodded in turn. "I more or less guessed that would be your choice, so I've already been to the pharmacy for you." She pulled open a drawer in her desk and pulled out three blister packs of tablets. "You'll need to take these at home, one from this pack first thing in the morning, and one from this pack before you go to bed."

"And the third pack?"

Sophia looked at Marion. "Did you ever hear of period synchronisation?"

"Um, no, can't say I have. Periods? You want me to have periods?"

Sophia smiled faintly. "Fortunately for you, you lucky person, you lack the equipment to fall foul of the woman's curse," she said. "But it's a well-known fact that if you get a group of women together for an extended period of time, their menstrual periods tend to synchronise. There must be evolutionary reasons for it, I'm sure, but it does have social benefits as well. What I'm saying to you is, you should stop taking tablets from these first two packs the day that Belle starts her next period, and for the next seven days take one from the third pack instead, in the morning. That should help to ensure that you two remain emotionally compatible."

"Ah! I see. Well, I see some of what you're saying, doubtless it will all become clear once the months progress. How do I know which pack is which?"

"They're labelled, of course. These are the same packs we use for women who are unable to accept a contraceptive implant such as Belle has, which performs much the same function. The staff, that is. Detainees get medications in their meals as you know."

"Thank you, Sophia," Marion said as she accepted the tablet packs. "It occurs to me, we're in a big building full of women, does that mean they're all synchronised together?"

"Fortunately for those who designed the waste removal systems of the facility, not quite. I shudder to think what would happen if we all started periods the same day. No, what happens is each Deck tends to synchronise within itself. Sometimes the Deck staff sync to their detainees, but their work patterns generally prevent that, although they can sync to each other. Most of the other staff are just random because they are moving about all the time."

"I see," Marion said. "Is there anything else the Professor said about me?"

"Not today. She said she'll probably have more on your other problem by tomorrow unless she gets side-tracked. I'll call you when I get news."

"I'd better be getting back to Talya, then, we've not long to go before lunch." Marion stood.

"Ah, I want you to take two of the morning ones with your lunch today, please, to give your body a good boost, and two of the evening ones tonight, then you can reduce to one each time. Unfortunately, you were left a little long without them, so we need to make up time. I'll review the dosage in three months, I think."

"Speaking of side-tracked, have you thought about what I said yesterday?"

"Yes, I have," Sophia replied. "I have to talk it over with my partner tonight, but I think you can guess which way I'm leaning." She smiled. "I really don't like this job, and I'll be glad to get back to doing some proper work for a change."

Marion returned to her office and she and Talya worked solidly through until the lunch trolley arrived. She checked her pack and swallowed two of the morning tablets with her drink before starting on the food. After the trays were collected Talya remembered that they had arranged to discuss working hours, so they spent some time trying to figure out a suitable timetable without success. Until Marion had covered more of the facility, it just wasn't possible to determine how long her sessions on the Decks would take or how many cases she might end up with. They were discussing the possibility that she might have to visit some Decks after the evening meal, during lockdown, when her terminal chimed with an incoming message.

"Service, Counsellor here."

"Service, Marion." It was Controller Brand. "I have Proctor Julian on the line, about Detainee Sutton's case. He's given me a summary of current progress and he wants to speak to you."

"I can talk to him now, Controller, it's convenient. If you would put him through?"

The picture switched to show the Proctor.

"Counsellor, Service! I'm sure you will be interested to learn what I've found. Thank you for alerting me to this, by the way. I'm almost certain that there will be one or two other victims of this particular crime still in the system that we haven't discovered yet." His face became serious. "But Citizen Sutton's case is slightly different from what we have found so far."

"Proctor? The person in the video looked to me exactly the same as the one in my own case."

Julian nodded. "Indeed it is. But she couldn't have been responsible in Sutton's case. You see, the date that this particular incident happened is the same day that the person responsible for your own crime was arrested. If you remember, I told you about the arrest and the circumstances of the crime the day you were exonerated. However, Citizen Sutton's incident happened clear over the other side of the city, and to commit that and to be where we arrested her fifteen minutes later, Citizen Rosenberg would have needed access to a military jet."

"Ah. Does this imply that there were others using the same mechanism to commit similar crimes, Proctor?"

Julian frowned. "We're just not sure at the moment. There are aspects of this that are puzzling. For example, how did a video of Rosenberg get into the record of the other crime? Does this mean that other unknown persons have been tampering with transaction records? We don't know at this point."

"Time stamps?" asked Talya, who had been listening, and who knew all the details of Marion's case.

"Who's that?" asked Julian. "Is there someone else in the room with you? I assumed you were alone."

"I have an assistant now, Proctor. She only started yesterday, and she's a trusty, but she is an expert on legal matters and was the person who helped me crack my own case." Julian raised an eyebrow. "With your permission, can she join the conversation? She may be able to contribute better than I can."

"A trusty?" Julian stared at Marion for a moment, then nodded abruptly. "I trust you, and if you trust her, then I guess I could listen to what she has to say. But you must both understand that this is a crime investigation in progress, and that all these conversations are privileged. Technically, I shouldn't be talking to a trusty at all, let alone about such matters."

"Thank you, Proctor," Marion said, and turned to Talya, who had gone white.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be interfering," she said shakily. "Perhaps I should leave the room while you speak together."

"No, you stay there," Marion instructed. "You started this, so you're involved now. Now, remind me how we make this a three-way."

"Trusty." Julian greeted Talya.

"S-s-service. M-m-my name's Natalya Makrova, Citizen Proctor," she replied. "Everyone calls me Talya."

Julian nodded. "Very well, then. You have something to contribute?"

"Yes, Proctor. If it is possible that the video was falsified in this new crime, is it also possible that the time stamps could have been changed? In other words, perhaps it was the same person, but not at the time you believe the crime was committed?"

The two went into a long and technical discussion about the two cases and ways in which the records might have been falsified, Marion contributing very little. Finally Julian turned his attention back to Marion.

"My apologies, Counsellor. Your assistant has demonstrated to me that you made a wise choice in selecting her. She has given me a number of alternative possibilities to investigate, for which I must thank her." He nodded his appreciation. "You do understand that what we have discussed might mean that Citizen Sutton may not actually be innocent as we originally thought. I may have to come to the facility and interview her. I will keep you informed as the investigation progresses."

"Understood, Proctor. And thank you for informing me in any case."

"My pleasure, Counsellor. End call."

Talya sagged back in her chair, relief plainly washing over her.

"I'll remember to keep my big mouth shut in future," she muttered. "I have enough problems as it is."

"I think you did quite well, considering," Marion said. "Don't forget, these are cases you have detailed knowledge of, and you could probably explain yourself to the Proctor much better than I ever could. In the future, though, we'll have to be much more careful."

"I know. I understand that your job here requires that some regulations be changed or amended, but I'm still not sure that he should have been able to speak to me," Talya considered. "Perhaps it was a bad idea to have me as a trusty."

"Not from where I'm sitting. Let's just proceed as we have been, but being extra cautious, and we'll have a review at the end of the week. Assuming one isn't forced on us before then, of course."

Distracted, they turned back to the case files and continued where they had left off before lunch. At four a trusty arrived with a trolley of tea and cakes. After serving them, she stood hesitantly in the doorway.

"Your pardon, citizen," she said, addressing Marion. "I understand that you help detainees with problems. Would it be possible for you to listen to mine? I'm sorry, I can't stay long."

Marion put on a big smile and beckoned the woman in again. She was probably in her early forties but looked older.

"Sit down, and tell me briefly what the problem is. Once I have an outline, I can work on it. I might be able to visit you in your room, I don't think I can follow you around while you're serving tea and cakes, can I?"

The woman perched nervously on the edge of the seat and spoke.

"It's my partner. He used to bring my children to visit every week, but I haven't seen him for three weeks. I'm allowed to send him messages, but there's been no reply to any I've sent since I last saw him. I'm worried something might have happened."

Out of the corner of her eye Marion noted that Talya had already brought up the trusty's record.

"We have your record here," Talya said. "I can see the date of his last visit to you, and the address he gave where you lived before you were sent here. Is he still supposed to live at that address, citizen?"

The woman switched attention to Talya, uncertain as to how she fit into Marion's role in the facility.

"My assistant," Marion explained. "She handles my administrative work better than I ever could."

"Oh. Yes, he still lives at that address, as far as I am aware."

"The Counsellor will make some enquiries and we will try and determine where your partner and children now are," Talya said. "I've made a note of your room number, a message will be sent there when we have some news. Will that be satisfactory, citizen?"

"Why, yes, citizen," the woman replied, rising from the seat. "Thank you for your time and attention. I'd better be going." She left the room and resumed pushing her trolley along the corridor.

"We might get something finished today if people didn't keep dropping in," Marion complained. "How many interruptions is that today?"

"They've all been for entirely different reasons," Talya pointed out. "And you wouldn't have turned away a potential client, would you?"

"Truth. How would you propose to handle this current case, then?"

"Like most of the other cases that might be classed as welfare, we'll have to ask Site Security to contact the Building Supervisor of the block where her partner was, to start with. He or she should be able to either confirm his status or connect us with someone who can."

"Assuming he's not someone like Hirsch was," Marion said. "I've put out enquiries in a number of cases so far, and had indifferent responses from some of them."

"The fact that you can't talk to them directly is hampering us," Talya said. "It's also unclear who has jurisdiction sometimes, housing, justice, social services, education, health, even the Department of Defence in two cases."

They were discussing the basic problem which Marion faced, which was that it was difficult for her to contact agencies outside of the facility without going through a tortuous route. They were trying to come up with answers to this problem when Donna Khiskov walked into the room, closed the door and sat down.

"Service, Director."

"Service, Marion, Talya. What's happened to your face, Marion? Do you know it's all red around your chin and under your nose?"

"Yes, Director," Marion said. "Alison lasered off some facial hair this morning. What can we do for you?"

"You both know why I have come here," Khiskov said.

"Yes, Director," Marion said. Talya had gone pale again, and she had sat back in her seat, away from her terminal. "I guess so. Unfortunately, there was nothing either of us could do about it before it was too late. Proctor Julian called the Controller, she transferred him to my terminal, and he began speaking before I had a chance to let him know I wasn't alone. I'm not sure how we could have handled the circumstance even with warning."

Khiskov nodded. "Oh, neither of you is to blame, so relax. I have reviewed the video record of what happened, and it was Proctor Julian's responsibility to proceed once he understood the position. Nevertheless, it leaves us with a problem, namely, what to do when it happens again. Next time might not be a case which your assistant should have access to, and there is still the basic principle that a trusty should not be involved when a call is received from outside the facility."

"We briefly discussed the situation, Director. The situation is difficult, as some of my inquiries involve communication with outside agencies. Unfortunately, we've been beset by interruptions today, so I haven't had a proper opportunity to think about the problem. We always knew that my job here would have unexpected consequences, this is one of them."

"Indeed. My primary responsibility is to maintain security for the whole facility as both of you well know, but I do appreciate your problem - a little. We, meaning the Facility Board, need to work out some kind of overall policy framework under which you operate, Counsellor. I will be asking the board to discuss this when we meet later this week.

"Meanwhile, we've come up with a work-around. I didn't think it would be fair to send your trusty out of the room whenever you had an incoming call, the poor woman would never be here long enough to sit down. Equally, she shouldn't be able to listen to sensitive calls without the caller being aware that she is present. So we've fixed your terminals so that, if she is in the room when a call is made, both your terminals will automatically go into a three-way. That should make it plain to the caller that she's here. Then it's up to the three of you if she needs to leave or not. Fair?"

Marion considered, and thought she could live with the limitation. After all, the two terminals were next to one another anyway. "Yes, Director."

Talya swallowed. "Thank you, Director. I apologise for my earlier actions."

"No need to. I reviewed the recording, and both your records, and realised that your own case - that of falsifying court records - meant that you were uniquely qualified to help the Proctor when he called. You have my permission to talk to Proctor Julian if he should call again, but," she emphasised, "to him and no-one else, and about those cases and no others. You understand me?"

Talya bobbed her head and replied, "Yes, Director. Thank you, Director."

Marion came to a decision. "Talya, we're not going to get much else done today. Why don't you go back to E Deck and relax for the rest of the afternoon? Can you make it back on your own?"

Talya promptly shut down her terminal and stood. "I think so, Counsellor. I'll see you down here tomorrow morning, then." She left the room, closing the door behind her. Khiskov raised an eyebrow.

"You wanted to talk to me privately, Counsellor?"

"I do, and the poor woman is frightened enough by your presence as it is. Frightened enough to be prepared to go back to E Deck on her own."

"She's a trusty, though, isn't she? She should be able to travel around on her own, surely?"

"Yes, but she's Talya, she's only been a trusty for a day, and she has her own difficulties." Marion described how Elena had suggested that she try to get help from Talya when Marion's own problem became apparent, and how withdrawn Talya was, and then how she had started helping with other cases that Marion had discovered. Talk then moved on to Marion's work, and how some of the cases had been handled, with specific emphasis on the way in which Site Security had helped or hindered the process. Khiskov described to Marion the general philosophy which governed the running of the facility with regard to security and the conversation broadened from there.

A knock came at the door, and a woman partly opened it to show her head through the gap.

"Director! You have a visitor waiting for a five o'clock meeting, did you forget?"

Khiskov started. "My goodness, have I been talking for an hour?" She stood. "Counsellor, I didn't believe Sophia when she said how good you were, my apologies. I think I understand your problems much better now, but I'd like to continue this conversation another time, if I may. I have to leave you now though. With your permission?"

"Of course, Director."

Marion had barely resumed working at her terminal when Alison came back in the door.

"Good, I see you're finally free. Mind if I check your face? I'm almost certain that the redness will have gone down by now."

Alison came round the desk and examined Marion's face at close quarters. She frowned.

"I guess I was being a little optimistic," she commented. "It's not bad, but it could have been better. Oh, I suppose the texture of your skin is going to be a little different to a woman's, isn't it?" Alison lifted one of Marion's hands and felt the skin on her forearm. She nodded. "It's quite nice and soft, actually, more so than I was expecting." She released Marion's hand. "I would think that by the time you leave tonight your face isn't going to excite much comment. By tomorrow morning you won't notice anything has been done to it at all."

"I'm glad of that," Marion said with a smile. "This morning, I wasn't feeling too pleased about the whole exercise, if you remember."

Alison nodded. "Yes, my apologies, I should probably have been more careful." She considered. "Thinking about it, of course, as you started off as a man you may have hair elsewhere on your body you might not wish to have now. Is there anywhere else you might want me to have a look at?"

"Ah, no, thank you Alison," Marion said hurriedly. "Fortunately, I don't have a lot of body hair, and I think the hormone treatments have prevented me growing too much more. I will, however, do a survey tonight when I undress and let you know if there's anything more you can do for me."

"Fine, just thought I'd ask."

She headed for the door with a muttered farewell. Marion slumped back in her seat. To think she had wanted to get back to work to have a quiet time! She looked at the half-cup of cold tea on her desk and made a decision, shutting down her terminal and standing. Time to go up to E Deck and grab a hot drink there, and to have a talk to her friends. The day's activities had given her much to think about.

*****

"You did what?" Belle asked as they walked from the tram stop towards the Enclave. "I have to give it to you, you don't just break regulations, do you, you blow them away with explosives."

"That's a huge exaggeration, Belle, and you know it," Marion protested. "Besides, you wouldn't let such things stand in your way, would you?"

"I suppose not," Belle agreed. "What do you think will happen now? Will they send Talya back to the Deck, do you suppose? It'll be hard on her, being able to help you has made her so much more alive than she used to be."

"I do hope not. As I told them at her interview, I need someone with her depth of knowledge. Trish knows how to run rings around the systems, but she's very little knowledge of legal matters or procedures at all. I'm not sure where I'd find someone else who does."

Belle grinned. "You could always ask your friendly Justice Minister."

"It's a thought. But given how much work I've already made for the man, I think I'll keep that as a last resort, if you don't mind. I'd rather keep Talya."

"What about the rest of it? Your job has turned out rather different than you first expected."

"We're all realising that. The big thing is, tough though my first five weeks have been, it's definitely shown that there's a need for my services. I just hope we can figure out some kind of structure that will allow me to do my job and keep everyone else satisfied."

They went through the gate into the Enclave, waving as usual at the guard.

"I suppose you want to stay in tonight," Belle stated. "Your face is much better than when I first saw you, but it probably needs overnight to settle properly. So, what do you fancy for dinner?"

They were clearing the dinner things away when the door announcer chimed. Belle and Marion looked at one another because they weren't expecting any callers. Belle put down the dirty plates she was holding and went to the door intercom, returning shortly.

"That was Arthur, Matteson is on his way up, he says he has news!"

Belle opened the door while Marion finished clearing away.

"Service, Belle and Marion. My apologies for the short notice, and for interrupting your meal," he began as he joined them in the living room. "I have discovered things today that I thought you ought to know as soon as possible. I can't stay, I'm late enough as it is and Annelise will have dinner ready and waiting."

"We've just finished, Marcus," Belle said. "Please continue."

"Gosh! What an amazing view," he said, distracted by the view of the park, laid out before him in the light of the setting sun. "I'm sorry, that is some view, perhaps the idea of your apartment being a prime property isn't so strange after all."

He turned back towards the two women. "It occurred to me that one way of resolving your position here would be to alter the existing Certificate of Exception to include all children of Founders as permissible residents," he explained. "That would qualify all of the nine children who live here, and their families would qualify under the existing rules, which would then include Marion. So I went to the Certificates office to register my proposal for consideration, to discover that another proposal had already been made, and one which might exclude Marion for other reasons."

The two women looked at him, stunned. Belle was the first to speak.

"Does this mean that there is some kind of conspiracy against us?"

Marcus nodded. "On the face of it, yes, although if it is it's buried quite deeply. The proposal was made by the Education Minister with responsibility for first and middle schooling, there's no obvious connection with yourselves. I would guess that he's been put up to it."

"What does the proposal say?" Marion asked. "Is it permissible to tell us?"

"Oh, yes, of course. The proposal is that only Party members may live in the Enclave. A quick check shows that Marion isn't a Party member, and to go through the procedure to become one would take some months, and there's plenty of scope for rejection along the way."

"I'm a Party member," Belle said slowly. "It made things easier when I enlisted, there's very little other reason. I'm not active, or anything like that."

"It didn't make any difference either way to me," Marion said. "I don't have any political pretensions, I was just a worker in a factory. Not even on the factory committee, either."

"That's what I thought," Marcus said. "You do realise what this means, don't you? Either both proposals get voted through or neither do."

"How so?" asked Belle. "Don't you just veto his, and it's dead? Isn't that what you explained to us the other night?"

"Yes," Marcus said patiently. "But then he'd just veto mine. It's a kind of Mexican stand-off. It's a favourite tactic of someone who wants to oppose a particular proposal, put up another one which puts a different obstacle in the way, and then threaten to veto if the original proposer doesn't support yours."

Belle pulled a face. "Nasty. Is there anything you can do about this, Marcus? Or are we stuck trying to get Marion into the Party in order to qualify her?"

"We need more information, and unfortunately we have very little time to gather it. One big problem is that I have no idea who I can trust at ministerial level or just below. I can't talk to people in case they are on the other side. However," he smiled suddenly, "I do have an inside source who may be able to help. Annelise works in the Defence Secretariat and knows some people who know people, if you take my meaning."

"That's an idea," Belle mused. "But can she do enough in the time available?"

Marcus shook his head. "I've no idea. At the moment it's the best I can come up with. Anyway, you now both know that the other side, and we can assume from this proposal that there is one, has made their counter-move. I'd better be getting home now." He turned to go.

"Marcus?" Marion said, stopping his movement towards the door. "If this other proposal goes through, do you have any idea how many people it is likely to affect? I can't imagine that every partner or child of a permitted resident is a Party member."

Marcus looked thoughtful. "You raise an interesting point. That proposal could backfire big time if so, but of course it might be too late by then to help Marion. I wonder how I can find that out? I don't know if Annelise has the right connections into State Security."

"She might not," Belle pointed out, "but why don't you ask Jane? She's the right person in the right place for that task."

"Jane!" Marcus put on a big grin. "Yes, of course! Let me go away and see what I can do, citizens. I'd better go, I'll be having cold scraps if I don't. Service to you both, I'll see myself to the door."

"Whew!" Marion breathed after Marcus had gone. "That puts a different complexion on things, doesn't it? Looks as if I was right, there is someone actively working against us."

They retired to bed early that evening, Marion being tired after her disrupted day and feeling the effects of the double hormone doses. She didn't feel the need to be male any more, she just wished that that part of her life was finally over with. She was also concerned that her job was now becoming entangled with the inevitable bureaucracy of the system, and might not even survive the process. Both women were disheartened by the fresh news that somebody was attacking Belle for some unknown reason, and that their new, closer relationship might be threatened. They clasped each other tightly for comfort as they lay in the darkness, wondering if the situation could possibly get worse and hoping desperately that it wouldn't. Sleep came with difficulty that night.

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

Belle was little better in the morning. Although it could not be said that she was actually depressed, it seemed to Marion that she had been quite upset by the revelations of the previous evening. After all, one accepted that the State sometimes did things which seemed as though they were aimed at oneself personally, even though everyone knew that the State showed no favour or disfavour to anyone, rather it just ground away and one hoped to get out of the way in time before you got flattened.

In Belle's case, however, it was not the State that was grinding away blindly but instead a shadowy group of people who seemed to have a grudge against her personally. The fact that someone wanted to do her, personally, harm was extremely unsettling, and it showed. Marion had to struggle to get her to eat enough breakfast before they left for work, and she was quiet the whole journey, most unlike her normal confident personality.

"Look," Marion said as they walked towards the facility, "Really the situation now is no different than it was yesterday before Marcus came to call. In fact it may be better, since we now know that something's going on, whereas before we had no idea that anything specific was happening. We have lines of enquiry being followed, we just have to sit tight for a day or two until our friends can find out more."

Belle replied heavily, "I know, but it doesn't seem to help. I just have this thought going round my brain that someone is targeting me for reasons unknown. Me. What have I ever done to anyone to deserve this treatment?"

"More to the point," Marion asked, "Why are you reacting the way you are? The Belle I first met would have been spitting feathers if someone had tried something like this on."

"You're right," she admitted. "I don't know why I'm worried instead of mad. Perhaps," she said, turning to look at Marion, "I have something else to lose in a fight now. Before it was just me, now it's so much more."

"But... shouldn't that just make you fight harder?"

"You're right," Belle said again, "But somehow the threat makes me feel vulnerable in a way that I never was before. I don't know how to fight something like this."

"Are you your father's daughter? What would he have done?"

"I think that's the problem. That's what they want to do, to turn me into another version of my father." Belle bared her teeth. "I will not let them do that to me!"

"Good!" Marion smiled. "Every time you feel a little down today, just think of that!" She caught hold of Belle's hand. "I'm glad I've finally managed to light a fire under you. You were starting to worry me."

Nevertheless, once they had changed, Marion accompanied Belle up to the watch station on E Deck rather than separating and going to her D Deck office. Donna and Carla, the two Night Shift Shepherds, were still there alongside Elena and Linda. Kristina hadn't appeared yet. Donna and Carla looked curiously at Marion, and she realised that they had probably never seen her in her Counsellor's uniform before.

"Service, friends," Marion greeted them. "Belle here has learned of a personal problem which is causing her some distress. We've found out that someone seems to be deliberately preventing me from moving in with her on a permanent basis."

"Oh, no!" Elena said. "Do you have any details?"

"Not really. Justice Minister Marcus Matteson was the one who discovered it. He dropped by yesterday evening on his way home."

Donna raised an eyebrow. "Justice Minister? Dropped by? What's going on, Marion?"

"Ah," Marion said, looking at Belle, "I'm sorry, I've let go a confidence. She doesn't know, does she?"

Belle shook her head. "No, she doesn't, and neither does Carla. It's not a big issue, fortunately. I suppose I'm going to have to let the cat out of the bag, although these aren't the best circumstances to be doing it in. Let's wait a few seconds, here comes Kristina, and then I'll tell you all everything."

"We'll wait all day if necessary," pronounced Carla. "With a statement like that, you've just nailed our feet to the floor."

The six Shepherds plus Marion clustered around the watch station, with one eye on the trusties who were pushing breakfast trays into the feeding slots, and listened to Belle tell them who she was and where she lived. She then described their current problem, and what was being tried so far to find out the truth behind whatever was going on. None of the others could offer any additional help, but it wasn't that kind of help that Belle needed at the moment, rather the emotional support that her friends could and would offer.

Elena caught Marion's eye during this tale and gave her a brief nod. She had realised that this might have an effect on Belle's performance, and she was pleased by the prompt way that Marion had brought it to her attention. This of course had been Marion's main reason for accompanying Belle to E Deck in the first place.

Donna and Carla left for home, and the remaining five chatted about anything and everything until the doors were released at nine-thirty. Talya emerged from her room, dressed in brown, and made her way to the watch station.

"Marion, service." She nodded to the Shepherds. "Service. Did you come up to collect me, Marion? I was wondering if I could have managed it down to the office on my own this morning."

Marion shook her head. "No, I came up with Belle about another matter, but it's time we left these fine folks and went about our own business. See you all later."

Marion knew that Belle had previously consulted Talya, which meant Talya knew all about the problems they were having in the Enclave. She therefore updated Talya as they walked downstairs to Marion's office. Talya agreed that there was little they could do until their 'lines of enquiry' turned something up. The two settled into the office and began the onslaught on the morning's waiting messages.

After an hour or so Marion left to do a circuit of the Decks she knew already, Sick Bay, drug addicts, lifers, solitary, new admissions. She returned to the office just as the dinner trusty appeared, and the two women settled down to eat their meals.

"Anything new?" Talya asked between mouthfuls.

"Not really. I had a talk with a Detainee Rhoda Azirov who's new in solitary, she was complaining about her treatment. Not much to go on, really, but I'll raise it with Director Khiskov next time we meet. I've updated a couple of lifers about their family status, we talked about that yesterday. Otherwise -"

The incoming call chimed, and Marion tapped the 'accept' button.

"Marion." It was Sophia, lunch in front of her.

"Service, Sophia."

"Can you come by when you've finished lunch? I've just had a message from Professor Malenski."

"Will do, Sophia. End call."

Talya knew all about the Professor as well so remarked, "I hope it's good news. You could do with some round about now."

Marion nodded. "Yes, something that would take Belle's attention off the residency mess wouldn't go amiss just now."

When Marion entered Sophia's office there was a sample pot waiting on her desk.

"Oh, no! They don't need more, surely?"

Sophia pantomimed weighing with her two hands. "They have just barely enough, and the Professor says that if they have to, they can manage with what they already have. But, because of the special circumstances, they may need to do further tests in the future, so if you could possibly..."

Marion's shoulders slumped. "If you insist." She reached for the container.

"It's been suggested that you provide your sample at the facility, here in Sick Bay, to ensure the best conditions as it were. The simplest way would possibly be to shut yourself in your treatment room and do it there. Then, once you're finished, take it immediately to Pathology, who will put it in a chilled container and get a courier to take it to the Fertility Clinic. And you'd have Talya there to take care of business while you were otherwise occupied."

"Okay. Thanks, Sophia." Marion turned towards the door, but Sophia stopped her.

"Wait, Marion, I haven't finished!" Marion came back and took a seat. "Malenski says that they have done an exhaustive analysis of your sperm, and can find no evidence of side-effects either from the regression drugs or from the hormones. It looks like you got away clear on that score. Now, because of that, it's given her a couple of ideas, and she would like to see if they can be developed into something that can be of use to you. That would mean that Belle and yourself may have to go and visit her again some time at a later date. Would you mind doing that?"

"I'll have to ask Belle, but I can't foresee any difficulty. I assume this is not going to be immediate."

"Not from the tone of her message, no. You don't quite seem your usual self," Sophia observed. "Is anything the matter?"

"Yes, there is," Marion replied. She then outlined the residency problem to Sophia, who appeared quite concerned.

"I'm glad you brought this to my attention," she said. "It affects the well-being of two staff members, one of whom I'm directly responsible for. You already know that it's unlikely that I can do anything directly to help you both with your problem, but there may be other ways in which I can help you cope."

"Doing my job again, Sophia?" Marion asked with a smile.

She shrugged. "Why not? It's the old 'physician, heal thyself' business. Sometimes it takes an outside touch to solve a problem. It's only what you do for the detainees, after all."

Marion returned to her office, placing the sample pot on her desk. Talya's eyes fastened on the small jar, but she managed not to say anything. Marion didn't want to risk much physical activity so soon after eating, so the two women carried on with what they had started before lunch. They had been working about an hour and the sample pot had long been forgotten when their concentration was interrupted by a persistent chime from somewhere along the corridor outside.

"What's that? A fire alarm?" Marion asked.

"Don't know," replied Talya. "I've heard it a number of times over the years, when I was stuck in my room. Nobody ever bothered to tell me what it was, though. I don't think it's the fire alarm, there's a standard set of procedures for that, and when they had to evacuate us all the alarm sounded different to that."

"They evacuated you? That sounds interesting. How did they avoid getting you mixed together with the normal detainees, then?"

"As I understand it, pink dresses go into one exercise yard, browns go in the other. Specials like you and me end up out the back, by the loading dock. There's a small yard out there where they keep some of the transport vehicles and so on, it can be gated off. It's not perfect, but it seems to work. Of course, all the staff are running round with stun rifles like headless chickens, so everyone stays still and tries to keep out of trouble."

Any further explanation was cut short by the breathless appearance of Elena.

"Talya! Come quickly! There's been a disturbance, Sick Bay will be full of people any second now. Trish gave me a warning. Come back up to the Deck." She turned her attention to Marion. "It'll be safer for her up there."

"Just let me -" said Talya, leaning over her keyboard.

"No time! Leave that, Marion'll sort it out. There will be casualties appearing any moment. Come on!"

"Go," Marion commanded. Talya looked at her, then rose and quickly followed Elena out of the door. Marion had barely time to move to Talya's seat to shut down the session she had open when Wanda appeared at the door supporting a Deck Shepherd who was covered in blood.

"Counsellor! Can I borrow your treatment room, please? We have a large number of injuries to handle."

"Go through," Marion waved her hand at the connecting door in invitation. She looked at the display, decided that she wasn't going to get much else done if the situation was that serious, and killed both Talya's session and her own before following Wanda into the treatment room. The Shepherd was seated in the chair holding a bloody pad to her forehead while Wanda was searching through the drawers and cupboards looking fruitlessly for medical supplies.

"These cupboards are all empty! Don't you have anything in here at all?" she asked Marion as she came into the room.

"No, sorry, this suite wasn't used at all until I came here," Marion replied. "Is there anything I can do?"

Wanda looked at her. "Yes," she said after a brief thought. "Come here and hold this pad over Cathy's eyebrow to slow down the bleeding while I go and find some kit. I'll be a few minutes."

Marion walked over to the chair, took the bloody gauze pad from the Shepherd and pressed it on to a long gash over her right eyebrow as Wanda ran out of the room. From the corridor, there were sounds as though a crowd was passing by. The Shepherd leaned back with a sigh.

"What happened? What Deck are you from?" Marion asked.

"M Deck," she replied. "Not so much a riot as a mass brawl, I think. It must have been all pre-arranged. One minute I was sitting at the watch station, the next they streamed out of both lounges and met between the gates. First thing they did was to trash the watch station. Got this cut falling against the edge of the table. My knee doesn't feel right, either." She looked at Marion more closely. "Oh, you're the Counsellor we've been hearing about." She studied Marion's name tag. "Marion. Service, Marion, I'm Cathy."

"Service, Cathy. M Deck? Remind me please, where's that? I find the lettering system they use in here most confusing."

"At the front, one floor down. Yes, I know what you mean." Cathy gingerly raised her right leg and felt the knee with a hand, drawing in a sharp intake of breath as she touched it. "That's not good. I think someone trod on the side of it while I was lying on the floor, wedged up against the back wall. I'm not sure, everything happened so fast."

Two Site Shepherds came in the door, one supporting the other who had an arm clamped against her side.

"They told us to come in here," the fit one said. "She's injured the side of her chest. Is there anywhere she can sit down?"

"Yes, of course," Marion turned without reducing the pressure on Cathy's head. "Go into the office, there are a couple of chairs, bring them in here."

The injured Shepherd leant her good side against the counter and said, "Go on, Megan. I'll survive here for a minute or two," through clenched teeth. She was clearly in some pain. Her mate reappeared lugging the two visitors' chairs from Marion's office, and she sank gratefully but carefully onto one of them. "I'm Jo, by the way."

"Service, Jo."

"You're not a doctor, or an orderly. Why are you in... Oh, you're the Counsellor, aren't you? The grey dress."

"That's right," Marion said. "I'm afraid this suite is normally unused, I'm just using the office part to do my job. One of the orderlies has gone to get some medical gear," Marion explained. "At least, I hope so. It looks like you had quite a bad time down there."

Megan explained. "I think that they knew they only had a limited time before we'd turn out. There's a Ready Room practically at the end of the wing, so the moment the alarm went they knew we'd be there in seconds. I guess most of the Deck was involved one way or another."

Half a minute later Wanda reappeared shaking her head, with a green first aid satchel in one hand and a bag full of dressings in the other. She noticed Jo sitting on a chair and raised an eyebrow.

"Chest," Jo replied briefly. "I might have cracked a rib."

Wanda nodded and dumped the bags onto the counter. She came over to the chair and took the pad from Marion, lifting Cathy up and helping her over to one of the sinks embedded in the counter to start washing the blood away.

"Are you qualified to do this?" Megan asked Wanda as the latter started cleaning the gash.

"Heck, yes," Wanda replied. "I was a qualified battlefield medical attendant before I came here, and this just about qualifies as a battlefield, doesn't it? I can certainly sort out scrapes like this one. Your friend's ribs will have to wait for a doctor, though. One should be along in a minute."

Wanda rinsed off all the surface blood, then sprayed a coagulant initiator onto the long cut. Once that had taken, she carefully drew round the wound with a thin line of surgical glue. With Marion holding the edges closed, Wanda applied a mesh strip to the wound and held it there until the glue set and sealed the raw edges together. She observed it for a few seconds to make sure it didn't resume bleeding or that the mesh came away.

"That looks good. Is your other uniform available?"

"Yes, in my locker," Cathy said. "Why?"

"I'd go downstairs and change right now," Wanda said. "Stuff these in the nearest laundry chute, then go and sit in the canteen with tea and some biscuits for an hour. Come back here to let the docs check you over, the place should have calmed down by then."

"Uh, my knee. I think someone trod on it."

"Oh. Which one? It does look as though it's beginning to swell, doesn't it? Okay, take a chair, I'll see if I can find a doctor. Let me spray you with something to make you more comfortable while I'm gone."

Wanda got out a hypo spray and used it on the swollen knee. Cathy gave a sigh of relief as the painkiller took hold. Wanda washed her hands and dried them under the blower before moving towards the door.

"Any problems, I'm sure the Counsellor will be able to help." She went out the door, from where screams and sounds of crying women could be heard.

"Does this sort of thing happen often?" Marion asked in the following vacuum.

"Not if we can help it," Cathy said. "About every couple of months, would you say, girls?"

"If that," Megan replied. "Not usually on C Deck or those on the same level, though, because they all know that Site Security's just at the end of the corridor. Since it did happen, I'm guessing that some specific grudge was involved, for them to take the risk."

"How do you mean, grudge?" Marion asked.

"Oh, not against the Shepherds," Megan said. "Some do have grudges against a particular Shepherd or two, but then you'd usually get an attack by one or two of them focused against those Shepherds. No, this has to be detainee against detainee." Jo and Cathy murmured agreement. "Cathy, right? Have you had anyone transferred in recently? From another Deck, or a new conviction?"

Cathy looked dubious. "Depends what you mean by recently. The last two came up over two weeks ago, from L Deck. Couple of young 'uns, barely out of their teens."

"Gang members, perhaps?"

"Don't think so. Leastways, no obvious tattoos or marks like that. We'll find out, soon enough."

Two new people appeared in the doorway, a Shepherd and a detainee. The detainee had her right hand under her left elbow, and her left arm lay along the top of her right one. Her face was white with obvious pain.

"The chair," Marion said. "Get her into the chair."

"Shepherd," Megan said, "This detainee is not cuffed, contrary to regulations."

"Wouldn't be appropriate," the newcomer said shortly. "She's broken her forearm."

Megan walked over to the newcomer and between them they managed to get the pink-clad woman into the chair.

"You're not going to cause us any trouble, are you?" Megan asked her.

"Are you stupid?" the woman said through gritted teeth. "I can barely stay conscious." She lay back in the chair with a sigh.

"My apologies, citizen," Megan said, suitably contrite. "Just doing my job, you understand? Now, we're going to have to part strap you down. I don't propose to touch your arm."

"If you must, Shepherd."

They began to strap her down, but before they had done more than her legs she fainted, her broken arm sliding off her stomach to dangle at the side of the chair. From the movement of the limb as it slid it was very obvious that it was broken, and all of them turned green at the sight. Marion very carefully lifted it back up and placed it on the arm-rest, looping a strap gently over the wrist to stop it falling off again. She leaned over the body to try and find a pulse, and what she found was very weak.

"I think she's going into shock," she said. "Damn! She might have internal injuries, I wouldn't have thought a broken arm could cause this reaction."

"It's possible," muttered the fresh Shepherd. "What are we going to do?"

"I have a factory first-aid certificate," Marion said, "Leastways I did a year ago, but I don't think I can deal with something like this. The Orderly who was in here has gone off to find a doctor, but it sounds like they've enough on their plate already."

Another Site Shepherd appeared accompanied by a cuffed detainee who was covered in blood, and with a black eye and other bruising beginning to show.

"We were told to come here," the newcomer said. "The doc's not far behind."

The detainee, an older woman with grey hair, stepped towards the treatment chair but was held by her minder.

"What's the matter with her?" she asked. "She doesn't look good."

"None of your business, citizen," her minder said. "Stand clear, wait for the doctor."

"Maybe, maybe not," Marion said. She addressed the woman directly. "Do you have any training that could be useful in this situation? She came in here with a broken arm, but it looks like she's gone into shock."

The woman eyed Marion thoughtfully.

"I was a nurse during The Uprising," she said. "I can't have forgotten it all. Can I borrow a stethoscope from that first-aid pack?"

"Now just a minute!" her minder protested, but was cut off by Marion.

"Let her, she probably knows more than the rest of us put together. Megan, can you root through that bag and find the stethoscope?"

"Certainly, Counsellor." The instrument was easy to find, Megan handed it to Marion, who beckoned to the woman.

"Here. We shouldn't be wasting time."

Her minder grudgingly let her go, and she took the instrument and put it in her ears before leaning over the patient. She listened carefully, her face serious, before standing and shaking her head.

"Shock all right. This is the broken arm? I'm surprised that caused the shock, but it's not unknown."

"I wondered whether she might have some other injuries we don't know about," Marion suggested. "She didn't complain of anything else, but her attention may have been all on her arm."

The woman looked at Marion doubtfully.

"It's possible. I might be able to use a scanner to look for other injuries, but I'm not sure I could do much if I did find anything." She gave a grimace and held up her still-cuffed hands. "Assuming I can figure out how to use these modern scanners, of course," she added.

"Treatment for shock, then?" Marion asked.

"Adrenaline, or one of the more modern substitutes," the woman replied. "You won't get me administering anything like that, though. It's been too long, I'm afraid." She shook her head. "That was forty years ago."

Wanda appeared at that moment, with another bloody detainee in tow. She did a double-take at the crowd now in the room.

"Counsellor, I can't leave you for five minutes, it seems. What's going on?"

"Eyebrow cut and damaged knee," she pointed to Cathy, before indicating Jo. "She's got a damaged rib-cage, possibly cracked ribs. This one," she indicated the chair, "came in with a broken arm, then passed out while we were putting her in the chair. This citizen," pointing to the grey-haired detainee, "is an ex-nurse, says that one's in shock. I'm not sure why she's here herself."

Wanda looked at each in turn, and then at the stethoscope still round the older woman's neck. She nodded.

"Right. The doctor's on her way. Will one of you -" she indicated the three uninjured Shepherds, "- look after this one for a moment? Let's deal with the emergency first. Can I have the stethoscope, please?"

Wanda examined the woman in the chair and then went to her bag, returning with a hypo spray which she used on her patient. She listened to her pulse again before nodding.

"Citizen, would you mind?" She spoke to the older woman. "Keep an eye on her while I deal with the more superficial injuries, please." She handed back the stethoscope.

"An eye is all I've got," the woman replied. Her other eye was now completely shut by the swelling. "But I can manage that much."

When Alison entered the room a minute later she was forced to stop, by what she saw as much as by the numbers within. Wanda was spraying the detainee she had brought in, cleaning a flesh wound. The others were sitting on chairs or leaning against the counters, giving room to Marion and the older detainee, who were attending the woman in the treatment chair.

"Doctor! That one first," Wanda said, pointing behind her with her free hand.

Alison raised an eyebrow at the fact that a cuffed detainee was using a stethoscope on a patient, but she was becoming accustomed to unusual sights in a place like this, particularly as Marion was in the room.

"The orderly gave her two separate shots of adrenaline," the ex-nurse reported as Alison approached. "I was a nurse a long time ago," she explained.

"My thanks, citizen," she said.

Alison made short work of the injured in the room. The woman in the chair was revived, her body scanned for other injuries without anything obvious being found. Her bones were set, her arm was encased in a mouldable foam plastic cast, and she was helped into a wheelchair to be taken to the ward. Alison used a portable scanner to check Jo's chest and she was found to have two broken ribs. Arrangements were made for her to be transferred to an outside Medical Facility to be properly treated there. Cathy's knee was also scanned. Nothing seemed to be seriously damaged, but Alison signed her off for a week and she was sent to the pharmacy to be issued with crutches. Meanwhile Wanda cleaned up and bandaged the assorted cuts and bruises, leaving only the older detainee's swollen eye for Alison to make a decision on.

"So, you used to be a nurse," she commented as the other sat in the chair.

"During The Uprising," was the reply. "For a couple of years afterwards, also, until I married. Oh, your pardon, until I Accepted Commitment." She pulled a face. "That's what it's called these days, isn't it? Stupid rule, if you ask me."

"I'm not concerned with your use of language, citizen," Alison said. "Just with the state of that eye. However, your assistance here today will be noted, my thanks to you."

Alison had to drain blood from behind the eye socket to reduce the swelling, and since that indicated a possible haemorrhage she decided to keep the woman on the ward for observation. A Shepherd helped her off in that direction. Finally, only Alison, Wanda and Marion were left in the room amongst the debris of the afternoon's excitement.

"You did say you wanted a quiet few days," Marion reminded Wanda. "That worked out well, didn't it?"

"I should keep my big mouth shut," she replied ruefully. "I hope it's not all going to be like this."

"No, fortunately, the day-to-day work is much steadier," Alison said. "It's a bit like an Emergency Room, a steady trickle most of the time, then blam! a tram or a bus or a train gets it and we're all rushed off our feet. Or in our case, a riot happens."

"Do we know what happened yet?" Marion asked.

"Not yet," Alison replied. "Why, professional interest?"

"Of course. Perhaps I ought to accompany whoever goes round that Deck the next time."

"That'll be tomorrow," Alison said. "Most of the Deck had minor injuries, so they've just all been locked in their rooms, and they'll probably stay locked down for a week or so till tempers cool." She regarded Marion thoughtfully, then nodded. "That's a good idea. You might be able to find out what's going on. You might also be able to reduce the tension down there, like you've done elsewhere."

"Maybe. I thought Site Security would be able to find out what happened. After all, they'll have everything recorded, won't they?"

"The system works, but it's not that efficient. If you think about it, they just managed to plan and execute a major disturbance despite all the surveillance that goes on. If you can do your not-one-of-them trick and get some of them to open up, you may find out more than Site Security ever could."

"Truth. However, I have to make sure that they don't think I'm trying to pump them, or that anything they tell me gets straight back to Site Security."

"With the number of pickups we have around the building? They must know that'll happen anyway."

A rather dazed-looking trusty appeared pushing the tea trolley, nervous of the unexpected activity within Sick Bay. The three women fell upon it like famine victims, hungrily devouring cakes and taking refills of tea. Once they had refreshed themselves, Alison decided to go and look for more patients whilst Wanda helped Marion clean up the treatment room and return her chairs to the office. Once there, she gratefully sat down in one of the returned chairs, while Marion sat in hers and thumbed on her terminal.

"Anything I can do for you, Wanda? I notice you're not rushing off looking for more bodies to bandage."

"It's mostly over," she said, waving an arm in dismissal. "Uh, I've been meaning to ask you about your job," she said. "I know what you said when we were on the course, but I'm more interested since I've watched you in action today."

"Me? I did virtually nothing today, except stand around looking useless. You were the one doing the action. You seem to have a lot of experience. Is that all from your peacekeeping tour?"

"That would be tours plural. Yes, I suppose it is. Although, see, my second tour, I ended up running an orphanage. By the time we were relieved, there were as many adults there as children, refugees all. So I was wondering how your job compares with what I was doing out there."

"Ah, all I can really tell you is how I came to get this job, which will involve me telling you how I ended up in here in the first place. Have you the time for a long story?"

Wanda looked slightly guilty. "Probably not. I've been quite busy for an hour or two, though, so I can probably take a few minutes rest. Why don't you begin, and if anyone finds me we'll have to continue later? I've no problem telling you what I've been up to by way of exchange."

Marion smiled. "You may want to reconsider that when I've finished, as the exchange will probably be an unequal one. You see, when I was convicted and sent here nearly eight months ago, I was a man."

She recounted yet again to an astonished Wanda just how she had come to be in the facility, and what had happened at the end of her stay, when Elena had suggested that she stayed on as an independent Counsellor both for the detainees and for the staff.

"Wow! Your life really did take an unexpected turn, didn't it? I'd heard rumours, but I don't think I really believed any of them, they sounded so fantastic, and I know what chinese whispers are like in a place like this. I would never have guessed that you were once a man. Tell me, do you feel like a man inside, still? I'm not sure if I can understand what your mental state must be, it's just way outside my experience."

"It's somewhat difficult to say," Marion replied. "After all, I've no experience of what a woman should feel, or think, or any of that. I am now taking hormones again, and I think that they have modified the way I think, but how do I tell? At least, I don't consider myself to be entirely male any more. I'm somewhere in between, and Sophia seems to think that's why I'm so good at my new job. I can empathise with women, but I also still have a little male objectivity I can bring to the table." She smiled. "Ask me again in six months, and I'm sure you'll get an entirely different answer. So, then, what about your own background?"

Wanda then described how she had gone with her platoon to the shell-damaged orphanage to find the staff gone but the children still there, and how she had organised the place, arranged for food, arranged to have some repairs done, looked after the children. How, after a while, when the existence of a safe haven became known, women and children refugees gathered there and how Wanda had looking after them as well, listening to their problems and trying to find solutions.

"Are you saying that you want my job?" Marion asked at a pause in the conversation.

"I'm not sure," Wanda admitted. "Until you appeared in that classroom I never even knew such a job existed. And, given what happened today, I'm sure I'm much more valuable to the facility as a front-line medic."

"Have you any formal medical qualifications?"

"Nope, only what I learned in the Army, although of course I would get credits based on that if I had wanted to go on to Nursing or Medical college. I preferred to get my hands dirty instead, and when someone at the Army Post-Service Career Bureau suggested a containment facility, I thought it sounded interesting, so here I am."

"I would say you picked right, judging by your performance here today," Marion said. "Although, you shouldn't expect much of what we had today. I can't remember a similar event in the eight months or so since I originally came here. On the whole, most of the facility is relatively peaceful."

"I'm glad to hear it. No, I'm not after your job, but depending on how things develop here I might be interested in a move in that kind of direction sometime in the future. It's too early to tell."

Sophia came into the room, dressed in blood-stained theatre greens.

"Ah, there you are! I wondered where you were hiding, I should have realised."

Wanda got up from her chair, ready to do whatever Sophia required, but Sophia merely waved her hand at the chair while she sank onto the other one with a weary sigh.

"Stay put, the troops have got everyone and everything organised." She looked down at her stained top. "I must go and change, and have a shower," she commented. She looked at Marion. "One of the Deck Shepherds hit her head on the watch station, got a depressed skull fracture. It was quite bad and required immediate attention, hence the blood and gore." She indicated her theatre greens. "She's doing steady now, she's been taken to a proper Medical Facility since we don't have the machinery or skills here to look after that kind of injury. Wanda?" She turned to the orderly.

"Yes, Director."

"Your services today have been noted. You did more than was expected of you, but from your military record I knew that you were capable of what you did, so I allowed you to carry on. It was a good test of your ability."

"Thank you, Director."

"You won't thank me for what I'm going to ask you to do next, though. The riot, fracas, whatever you want to call it, has wiped out the whole day shift for M Deck, and they're struggling to find replacements. I have volunteered you, short term."

"Director?"

"It actually makes sense, since most of M Deck has minor injuries of one sort or another. We've had to rearrange quite a few detainees to free up D Deck beds, but most of M Deck is still down there. Someone with medical expertise will be of great benefit for the next week, or possibly two."

"But, Director, I'm not a Shepherd!"

"You did just pass the Shepherds' training course," Sophia observed. "Besides, M Deck is under lockdown, so you shouldn't have much difficulty doing the job for a week or so. Think of it as experience, it will give you a better grasp of what goes on elsewhere in the building."

"As you say, Director. Does this mean I'll have to carry a wand?"

Sophia blinked. "Yes, I suppose it does. Will this be a problem for you?"

"No, Director. It's just... unusual."

"You'll do it? Starting tomorrow?"

"Of course, Director. It's just somewhat sudden, is all."

"Thank you." Sophia gave her a smile that was intended as encouragement before turning her attention to Marion. "And I must thank you for your own efforts today, Marion. I know it was somewhat unexpected, but then the nature of most things that Sick Bay handles is unexpected. What happened to Talya?"

"A little bird whispered in Elena's ear and she came and evacuated her," Marion replied with a smile. "I'm not sure how she would have handled the last hour or so."

Sophia nodded. "Good, I hadn't thought about the implications of her being here, so I'm glad she's out of it. Alison told me about your use of Detainee Brondby earlier, that was a good call. How did you know she had experience?"

"Just by her manner, Sophia. I was taking a risk, I know, but it seemed to me the circumstances warranted it."

"Yes, tricky. I don't suppose you want to do a medical course?" She sighed. "We're so short-staffed these days."

"I had a factory first-aider's certificate, but that wouldn't have covered today's circumstances. Sorry. I don't think I have time for another course, it's going to take Talya and I some time to clear last week's backlog as it is."

"It's all right, I wasn't being serious. However, it looks as like we're going to have to kit out your treatment room, up to specification, in case we get caught again. It shouldn't affect you, should it, as you don't use it at all."

"Be my guest."

"Alison also told me you'd suggested going round M Deck in the morning. I think that's another excellent idea you've had. There will be a scratch shift of Shepherds down there, but you can co-ordinate with Wanda here if you need anything or if you find anything out."

"Yes, Sophia."

Sophia stood and beckoned to Wanda.

"I think it's time we left our Counsellor to her business," she said. "You and I should go and get changed. Or were you planning to leave all that blood on your shirt?"

"Where? Oh! I hadn't realised, Director. Yes, let's get changed. Service, Marion."

*****

"So that's what happened," Marion finished.

"Sounds like you were busy down there," Belle said as they walked up towards the tram stop. "I'm not sure any shift would have been able to cope with being jumped like that." She shuddered at the thought of being caught in a fight like that, taken totally by surprise. "It'll probably mean a change in operating procedures, although I'm not sure how something like that could be avoided. Perhaps by only allowing one of the gates either side of the watch station to be open at any one time." She shook her head. "I don't understand how they could have planned it in the first place."

"No," Marion said, "That's something I'm going to try and find out tomorrow. I'm going to go down there with one of the doctors and see if I can get people to talk."

"Off the record?"

"Oh, yes. But I will of course summarise anything I learn for Donna's benefit. After all, it's in the detainees' interests as well if we can avoid future injuries. That broken arm was just plain gruesome."

"I've probably seen worse. You don't get to jump out of planes without witnessing one or two nasty accidents, but it's never nice whenever it happens."

"Agreed. What happened to Talya, I meant to ask before?"

"Oh, she just went back to her room, changed into green and joined the crew in the lounge. Everyone had heard the alarm, they all wanted to know what was happening, of course. Now the rules state that we're not supposed to tell them anything, in case it triggers sympathetic action, but there's never been any trouble on E Deck, so Elena had a quiet word just to stop them exploding with curiosity." She chuckled. "I'm not sure it improved the situation, though. They were more worried that you'd be in danger than anything else."

Marion smiled. "Danger from detainees was never going to be a problem. In fact, I had more Shepherds crammed into that treatment room than detainees. It's just as well I don't faint at the sight of blood, though."

"Here's a tram," Belle said. "I don't suppose you want to do any shopping after today, do you?"

"Not this evening, I've had enough of a stressful day already. I will, however, gratefully accept an offer of a massage, though." She started as they joined the queue waiting to board the tram. "Damn! I forgot!"

"What now? Left something at work?"

"Yes. Sophia gave me another sample pot. I should have used it at work, though, but of course I got severely sidetracked. It's still sitting on my desk."

"Never mind, love. We'll just have a quiet night in." But her eyes glinted with mischief. "Your pot will still be waiting for you in the morning. I want to try that sampling procedure for myself, tonight."

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

When Marion went through the gate that let her enter E Deck the next morning, she immediately noticed a difference about the group of Shepherds clustered around the watch station. She mulled over possible reasons for the change, and then decided that was pointless as she would discover the reason in a few seconds anyway. She reached the second gate and let herself through, with a smile for the waiting group.

"Service, Elena, Kristina." There was no need to greet Belle, of course, as they had travelled in together. She looked up at the fourth person. "Service, Ruth. Welcome to E Deck." Her two-metre-tall friend from the training class grinned down at her.

"Service, Counsellor. Elena tells me this is where you were kept when you were thought to be a villain."

"It was, and they all did me proud while I was here. I have no doubt that you will do the same for all our clients while you're here as well." Marion turned to Elena and raised an eyebrow. "Where's Louise? Ill today?"

Elena shook her head and gave a short reply. "M Deck. She got borrowed."

"Ah. I'd forgotten that they were scraping around for replacements." She added hurriedly, "Not that I consider Louise, or indeed any of you, to be Shepherds of last resort. I guess I hadn't realised that they were so short of staff."

"Bad timing," Elena explained. "We have staff out ill, and on holiday also. Aside from the usual chronic shortage of staff, that is. We got Ruth as a replacement, so it's not all bad news. You two know each other from last week, of course."

"Yes. E Deck's a quiet enough place these days, so it's probably ideal to allow Ruth to familiarise herself with the routine. And I don't think we have anyone on Deck who will regard her size as a challenge, so there shouldn't be any friction. Go easy with her, she looks fearsome but she's really just a gentle soul."

"Thank you, Counsellor," Ruth murmured.

"Gentle?" asked Kristina sceptically, looking up at Ruth.

"Oh, yes. She can easily toss me five metres on the mat, but every time she does she apologises afterwards."

"Now, tell us, what happened yesterday?" asked Elena. "I know you weren't on the spot, but I hear you had a busy time in Sick Bay."

"We did. I'm glad you got Talya out of the way, there were a huge number of people running round at some points, quite a lot of them covered in blood. I have no idea how she would have coped. I remember, you said Trish tipped you off?"

"Of course. She spotted the fight on the monitors, hit the alarms, and then realised that so many people were getting injured that Sick Bay would be crawling with staff and detainees, called me and told me to get Talya out of there. We met the first of them as we left, it wasn't a pretty sight."

"I couldn't agree more. I had -" Marion counted up the crowd in her treatment room, "- five Shepherds, some injured, three detainees, all injured, Wanda the new Medical Orderly, Alison and myself in my treatment room together at one point. You certainly couldn't have swung a cat in there."

"What were the injuries like?" asked Kristina.

"Mostly cuts and bruises as you might expect. One of the detainees had a broken arm and passed out while we were trying to sort her out. Another had bleeding behind an eye, and one of the shift Shepherds had someone step on her knee so it was quite swollen by the time she left. There was a Site Shepherd with a couple of bust ribs. Sophia came in later, apparently another of the shift Shepherds had fallen against the edge of the watch station and got a depressed skull fracture she had to operate on immediately. Don't know what happened in the other treatment rooms, of course, I was too busy."

"Do you know what caused it?" Elena asked.

"The first Deck Shepherd who came in, Cathy, said she thought it must have been pre-arranged somehow, although they weren't sure how they got that past the monitoring. Apparently they all gathered in the lounges, and at some innocuous signal just came out in a mass and met in front of the watch station. First thing they did was to trash the station presumably to stop the alarm being given. They must have known that the Site Shepherds were just at the end of the corridor, which may explain the levels of violence. They wanted to get done what they planned before anyone could stop them."

Marion could see them digesting this information, and trying to imagine what they would do if the same thing happened on E Deck.

"Why would they do that?" Ruth asked. "Is that kind of behaviour normal on the Decks?"

"Fortunately no," Elena replied. "And you're extremely unlikely to see an incident anything like that up here. As for motive, we'll have to wait and see what can be learned from the video logs and so on." She addressed Marion. "Are you planning to get involved at all? I would guess you might be interested in talking to some of those who were there."

"It was an idea, Sophia seemed to think it would be the right thing to do. But I don't know the procedure that's followed after an incident like this. Would I be stepping on Site Security's toes, do you think?"

"Don't think so. You'll want to run your plans past Director Khiskov first, though. Usual procedure for those involved in some kind of incident is, firstly, the whole Deck gets locked down for a period depending on how serious the incident was. This is to encourage the better-behaved on the Deck to try and stop things flaring up in the first place. Secondly, everyone on the Deck, Shepherd and detainee alike, gets a serious grilling from Site Security to get to the bottom of the matter. Doesn't always work, people can be pretty close-mouthed in here. Lastly, those deemed at fault get extra time and maybe a reduction in privileges. Detainees, that is. Staff found at fault have mandatory retraining, and possibly a temporary reduction in pay or benefits."

"Ouch. Bit hard on a Shepherd who gets caught in something like yesterday's happening. I can't see how they could have prevented that at all."

"Perhaps not, that will be taken into account. You may have better luck finding things out than Site Security that could pinpoint the problem. Speaking of which, we have one of them up here, you might make a start on her, get some pointers."

"Up here? Why?"

"Run out of rooms. All the rooms on M Deck are doubles, so to give everyone on that Deck solitary means some of them have to get moved to other Decks. We got one of the uninjured ones. Makes no difference to us or her, she doesn't know which Deck she's on or what's special about it, and she's never going to find out, either, because she's going to spend the whole time locked in."

"I'll do that, but I'll check with Donna first, after I've got Talya settled."

They talked about other matters, then, until the doors were opened at nine-thirty and the detainees started appearing. Talya walked down to the watch station, her eyes fixed upon Ruth's impressive frame.

"Service, all."

"Service, Talya," Marion said. "This is Ruth, who's taking over from Louise for a while. Louise has gone downstairs to help run M Deck after yesterday's fight."

"Service, Ruth."

"Are you happy to come downstairs today?" Marion continued to Talya. "I wondered if yesterday's events might have worried you."

"Yes, I think so," was the reply. "I was talking to Trish yesterday evening and she told me what had happened. I know everything's been cleared up now, so I'm not too concerned."

"Trish? What shift was she on, then? I thought she was doing days this week."

"Ah, she wasn't on shift. She had offered to stay behind in case she was needed while they sorted out the destroyed watch station, and while she was there spare as it were, she decided to ask me if I wanted to have a game of chess with her." She frowned. "I'll have to sharpen up my game. She's quite a fierce player."

"Chess?" Marion could see that matching Talya with Trish was going to have unexpected benefits, if it meant that Talya was exercising her brain more. "Good idea," she added, "but try not to distract Trish from her duties, will you?"

"No problem, Marion. She's given me a schedule of her shifts, so that I know when she's supposed to be working."

The two walked off and managed to get through the end gate without being waylaid. Marion saw Talya settled in the office before going along to Khiskov's office, where she received permission to talk to all those who had been on M Deck and who were still in the facility. Accordingly, she returned to E Deck and was let into the room where the M Deck detainee had been put.

"Service, citizen."

"Who are you? What's going on?"

The detainee was a year or two younger than Marion, with short, curly blonde hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion. She sat on her bed, with the quilt bunched up in her arms in front of her, viewing her visitor with suspicion. Marion was now used to the idea of detainees in pink, but she found the idea of someone on E Deck in a pink dress to be disturbing. She perched on the woman's feeding seat, gave a smile, and then launched into her standard speech.

"My name is Marion. I'm not a detainee, and I'm not a Shepherd. I'm a Counsellor, and I can come and talk to anyone who has a problem, or even if they just want a chat. If you have a problem, I may be able to fix it, or I may be able to find someone who can fix it." She pulled her datapad from her pocket and activated it. It immediately gave her the details of the woman facing her. "Crystal Donetti, is that right?"

"Yes, citizen."

"Now, my office is in Sick Bay, and we were overwhelmed yesterday afternoon by injured from M Deck. That's where you are from, isn't it?"

"Yes, citizen. But I didn't have nothing to do with what happened, I was in my room reading when I heard all the noise. I looked out my door and there was people fighting everywhere, so I shut my door and prayed no-one would try and come in."

"Do you have any idea what was going on? I was in my office when it happened, so I really know little about it."

"No, citizen. But it might have something to do with them two young girls who came two weeks ago. You could tell the atmosphere changed when they appeared on the Deck. What's going to happen to me now, citizen? I don't even know which Deck I'm on now, although I saw some women in green when they brought me up here, dunno what that means. Will I stay here, or be sent somewhere else? I'm fed up with being moved around."

"Ah, I'm not familiar with the precise sequence of events after any disturbance, but you'll probably be kept in here for a while, solitary. I don't know if you'll be moved on after that or not. You'll probably be questioned by Site Security about what happened, so I'd try and remember exactly what details you can if I was you. Write it down in your journal."

"Journal? What's that?"

"You don't know about your journal? Come here to the terminal, I'll show you."

The woman had said that she could read, so Marion sat her down in front of her terminal and showed her how and where to find her journal, and how to make entries in it. Marion thought it interesting that she hadn't explored the resources of her terminal, but merely drilled down to find the things that she needed and ignored the rest. She also thought it interesting how proficient she herself had become with the use of the terminals, primarily due to the efforts of Talya and Trish.

When she let herself out of the room Elena was waiting.

"Anything?"

"Nothing much. She was one of the few fortunates who stayed out of trouble. She's given me a pointer or two, though. I think I'm going down to D Deck now, to talk to the more seriously injured detainees first."

On D Deck, Marion headed straight for the watch station in the middle of the ward.

"Service, all! I'm not going to chat to everyone this morning," she added to Felicia, the Senior Shepherd, "I wanted to speak especially to those who were injured on M Deck yesterday. Of course, I'll always listen to anything you might wish to say to me." Her gaze took in all the other Shepherds standing around. They were familiar with Marion's methods by now.

"Of course, Counsellor." Felicia grimaced. "A lot of confusion and work that caused, as well! We had to move some of the less serious cases we had over into S Deck to make room, I hope you'll find some time to go over there, one or two of them weren't happy about the sudden move. We have..." she counted down a list on one of the terminals, "...eight from M Deck, although one of them is so serious I don't think you'll be able to speak with her as we have her heavily sedated."

"Would that be the skull fracture Sophia had to deal with?"

"No, I heard about that. That was a Shepherd so she wouldn't be in here, this one's a detainee who came in with a broken arm, she collapsed during the night. Seems there was internal bleeding nobody spotted."

Marion nodded. "I think she must have been the one who was in my treatment room. We wondered why a broken arm caused her to go into shock."

"Looks like she got kicked in the small of the back, we eventually discovered bruising around the kidneys. Nasty business."

"Indeed. Where's the first one?"

"Four. All the doors are open as usual."

The first casualty was Eleanor Brondby, the ex-nurse. Marion sat down beside the bed and looked closely at her damaged eye, which was bandaged.

"Service, citizen, we meet again. How are you feeling this morning? What's the status of your eye?"

Marion spent some time talking to the older woman. It appeared that her eye injury would heal and that she would make a near-full recovery. She hadn't taken part in the fight, but had been attacked when she had tried to pull other injured detainees to safety. However she was sharp, and had much to say about why she thought the trouble had started. Marion moved on and talked to those other injured who were awake at the time of her visit, returning to the watch station at the end.

"I'd better go and have my lunch," Marion said to the Shepherds. "I really shouldn't discuss what I've learned, particularly as I don't understand some of it myself. Let's just say it seems that gangs were involved. You have one here who is or was a gang member, Domenica, but I don't think she'll give you any trouble. After lunch I'll go and see if I can talk to the less damaged members of M Deck. Thank you for your time, citizens."

Marion rejoined Talya in the office and they discussed what Marion had learned for a few minutes before the lunch trolley arrived. As Marion popped the film over her cutlery her eyes caught the sample pot, still standing abandoned on the corner of her desk. She sighed. Talya's eyes flicked at her, recognised the focus of Marion's gaze, and wondered whether or not to say anything before deciding to make a comment.

"Is that... jar... important?"

Marion sighed again. "Yes, unfortunately it is. I need to provide more... genetic material... before I can fully resume the medication I need to stay as I currently am."

"Genetic material? Oh. Of course. You got that... jar... yesterday morning, didn't you, and we've been busy ever since. Are you supposed to do it here, or can you take it home with you? That might be a better option."

Marion shook her head. "I did do it that way the first time, but then I was only bringing a sample for Sophia to look at under a microscope to see if it looked good enough. This time it will be for reproductive purposes, so has to be in better condition." She reddened. Although she had readily discussed her biological details with various people, she still had a reserve of modesty when talking about such matters.

"You wanted to find somewhere quiet, like the treatment room," Talya guessed. "I don't think you're going to be able to use that this afternoon, one of the Orderlies came by earlier to say they will start kitting it out after lunch." She thought. "We're busy, but I'll take some time to think of somewhere quiet you might go, Marion. It's the least I can do."

"Thank you, Talya. Try and be discreet, won't you?"

"For such a matter, Counsellor, of course I will."

After lunch, Marion went downstairs to try and interview those left on M Deck, but when she reached the bottom of the stairs, a Site Shepherd barred her way.

"I'm sorry, citizen, access to this area is restricted. Which Deck are you looking for?"

The woman looked at her curiously, as it was obvious she had never seen Marion before, and it appeared that she hadn't read any of the bulletins which mentioned her existence among the staff. Marion wasn't particularly surprised by this. She could hear the sounds of construction work taking place through the grille where the watch station was being rebuilt, and she expected the Shepherds to be twitchy down here.

"I am Counsellor Hillier, I am a member of staff here at the facility and I am permitted unrestricted access to all parts of the building. I am here at the express request of Director Khiskov to interview those who took part in yesterday's disturbance."

"Your pardon, citizen, but I must verify your identity."

The woman pulled a datapad from a pocket and aimed it at Marion's disc, causing her details to be displayed. She looked puzzled, but lowered the datapad and put it away before commenting.

"My apologies, Counsellor, I have never before seen a member of staff dressed like yourself. How long have you been working here?"

"Five weeks. I'm surprised that you were not aware of my existence. Director Khiskov posted notices detailing my job and my uniform weeks ago."

"Ah, that might be because I have not long returned after maternity leave. My apologies again. You wished to visit M Deck? Go ahead, but take care as they are still working on the watch station."

Marion walked along the corridor towards the centre of M Deck, where a group of women in grey-clad jumpsuits were assembling a new watch station from parts stacked on a nearby trolley. The whole corridor looked clean and bright and there was no evidence of spilled blood or any other sign of commotion. There was a faint antiseptic smell in the air. The cleaners, Marion thought, must have spent most of yesterday evening tidying up in here.

Either side of the watch station area, outside the enclosing grilles, two Shepherds sat on chairs looking bored. As she approached those nearer to her Marion could see that one was Diana Poulsen, the Shepherd she had been with when they had been attacked walking back from the shop at the end of the road. The other she didn't recognise.

"Service, Diana. Got yourself a quiet job this time, it seems."

"Service, Counsellor. Yes, I hate it when a Deck is under lock-down, I prefer a little life, if you know what I mean. Although, perhaps, not quite as much life as yesterday, I've seen the recordings."

"I've been asked to interview all the culprits to try and find out what happened and more importantly why."

Diana waved a hand. "Go ahead. I'm nominally Senior for this ad hoc arrangement if you need anything doing, but you know your way round as well as I do, I expect."

"Thanks, Diana. I haven't forgotten that offer of a meal, either. It's just that circumstances spiralled out of control so rapidly I had no idea what to do about it. Another time, perhaps."

"You were behind that building being gutted? I might have known."

Marion went through the gate, which had been wedged open to permit the desk panels to be carried through, and stopped. One of the jumpsuited women was Trish, and she smiled a greeting as Marion entered.

"Service, Counsellor! I suppose you want to go and talk to the battered and bruised."

"Service, Trish, yes I did. Thinking about it, how am I going to do that if there's no watch station?"

"Ah, we all have communicators, we ask the monitoring crew to do anything we require. Almost anything in the building can be operated remotely from Central Control if the need is there. Which end do you want to start?"

"I'll go up the far end and work my way back. I've no idea how long I'll be with each one, though. Has your job here been difficult? I bet you don't often get the chance to rebuild a whole watch station on a Deck."

Trish shrugged. "It's not been so bad. These things are modular, so replacement is usually straightforward. They did mangle some cables, though, and pushing the base of the station over made some awkward holes in the floor where the anchors ripped out, but nothing a little rapid filler hasn't fixed. That's why we're still here, if they had just damaged the equipment it would probably have been replaced overnight. I heard you had an interesting time down in Sick Bay yesterday."

"Yes, I'll tell you about it another time if I may. I must get on with these, I have a meeting with Donna later. Thanks, by the way, for rescuing Talya yesterday."

Trish grinned again. "It was the least I could do."

Marion gave her a meaningful glance. "Chess?"

Trish gave a 'what do I care' shrug. "Why not? Helped to settle her down. Good player too."

"It's fine by me." Marion gave a wave and walked through the second gate, to discover that the two Shepherds seated there were Wanda and Louise. She spent a few minutes talking to them before continuing on to the end of the corridor. As she reached the end door she heard a click as it was released, and she let herself into the room.

*****

"Service, Marion! Come on in." Director Khiskov gave a beckoning wave and resumed whatever she was doing on her terminal. A full cup of cold tea stood abandoned on her desk. Marion entered and made herself comfortable on a chair. Eventually Khiskov looked up and smiled at Marion.

"You've been busy today, I notice. From the look on your face, I guess you've got some good ideas what happened yesterday."

"I can tell you exactly what happened yesterday, Donna."

"You have my full attention. If you have managed to do that within twenty-four hours I'll - I'll treat you to a meal at any restaurant you care to name."

Marion grinned. "Wait till you have heard what I've found, Donna, I don't want to put you to unnecessary expense. It's like this. Two weeks ago two young girls were transferred from L Deck to M Deck, because they were being hassled by members of a gang down there, the Docksiders?"

Khiskov nodded. "Yes, they operate along the river, down by the docks, hence the name. Those two were being picked on, so they were moved for their own safety. Are you telling me that they were the cause of the problem? As far as I recall, they weren't identified as gang members as they had no identifying marks, and they weren't picked up as part of any gang operation."

"Nevertheless, that's what they are, they're members of a group known as the South Side Vixens, if I've got that right. I understand that they are an all-female gang on one of the estates over towards the river, and that their territory adjoins that of the Docksiders."

"They're Vixens? Unmarked Vixens? That's a departure for them."

"Apparently this is a new policy to ensure they don't get marked as gang members if they get intercepted by other gangs or arrested and end up in here. I knew very little about gang culture, since there weren't any where I grew up or where I lived before I came here, and I told them so, so they helpfully filled in all the details for me. I'm not sure I'm going to get away with that little trick again in the future."

"You never know. Well! That's something new for the book. I must make a note of all this for future reference."

"I'm putting together a proper report, but I thought I'd tell you what I found in case I got sidetracked again."

Khiskov rolled her eyes. "Don't. We've all been there. But, I thought there weren't any Docksiders on M Deck."

"No, there aren't, this is something different. On M Deck, in plain view, are three members of another gang, the Riverside Dragons, or more commonly the Dragons. Apparently they have territory which is next to the Vixens on the other side." Khiskov nodded confirmation. "Also on M Deck, but keeping a low profile, are two members of the Soho Crew. I understand that their territory adjoins the Dragons, but doesn't touch the Vixens sphere of influence. Now our new two didn't want to get involved with the Dragons until they found out that the Soho pair were there as well, and they made an arrangement with the Soho pair to combine against the Dragons to settle mutual scores."

"I see. But that's only, what, seven gang members. I can see how a few others might get involved, but fifty-odd? How did they manage to hide what they were doing?"

"Apparently the actual fight was pre-arranged in code, during time outside in the yard, and when some of them were in the gym. The idea was passed on in conversations during lunch and at other times, in such a way it wouldn't cause any alarm out here. It seems that there are some who were just spoiling for a fight, some who had grudges against either other detainees or against Shepherds, and some who were just bored and joined in for something different to do. There was also something called the 'forty-eight hour rule', which I didn't quite get."

"Forty-eight hour rule?" Khiskov echoed. She shook her head. "I don't know what that means. So, I can guess the rest of it. They arranged to meet in the lounges and then rush the watch station to prevent the alarm being given too soon. Once that was done, and the Shepherds incapacitated, the floor was open and accounts could be settled."

"That's it exactly. Oh, and you have a couple of ex-gang members in the mix as well, who have retired and settled down to a life of conventional crime instead."

Khiskov shook her head again. "We try, very hard, to identify gang members so that we can keep them separate, but if they are going to stop giving their members identifying marks I don't know what we'll do. Are you sure of your facts here? If you are, I'll have to notify the Facilities Directorate so that they can warn the other facilities to be on their guard."

"Director, I am reasonably sure. It's possible that this pair were specially singled out for this treatment, to allow them to go places without being identified by other gangs, so that they could act as messengers, for example. I can't imagine all gangs doing this, but if even one does it then I can see it will cause trouble."

"I'll get out a note, then, today. If we can't spot these people then it would very easily cause trouble elsewhere. What happened here was bad enough. Thank you, Marion, for some quite brilliant investigative work."

"Ah, Director, remember that I'm supposed to be an unbiased observer here. I don't want anyone to know that what I just told you came from me, or it could prevent people from talking openly to me."

"Don't worry about that. Our normal procedure in these cases is to grill everyone, and that will take a week to ten days. By that time everyone will have repeated their story so often no-one will realise that we already knew what happened. We'll keep your name out of it, don't worry."

"Thank you, Director."

"While you're here, I've been thinking about what we discussed the other evening. I may have an idea to propose at the next meeting of the Board. Consequently, you will be invited to the meeting, which is the day after tomorrow, starting at about two o'clock. What I have in mind should make your job much easier, but it will probably involve some significant changes. I don't want to say much more just at the moment, until I've done some more investigation, made sure of my facts. Don't look so alarmed, anything I suggest will be for your benefit, you'll see."

Oh, great. As if I didn't have enough else going on just at the moment.

"Ah, thank you, Director. I think."

Khiskov smiled. "I'm sorry, I have alarmed you now. Perhaps I shouldn't have said so much. Now, is there anything else to discuss?"

Marion talked for a few minutes about some recent cases before taking her leave of Khiskov and returning to her office.

"Did it go well?"

"What? Oh, yes, thank you." Marion told Talya about the board meeting.

"I shouldn't even think about it if I were you," she said practically. "We have enough to deal with as it is. I've found somewhere for you to have a little quiet time," she added meaningfully, glancing at the sample jar.

"Oh?"

"Yes, Sophia's treatment room. She says that you're quite welcome to use it any time this afternoon if you need to."

Marion had been so focused on the fact that her own treatment room would not be available that she hadn't considered the three others attached to the doctor's offices.

"In that case," she said, "I ought to go and try now."

She picked up the pot and walked out of her office towards Sophia's office. Knocking on the open door she entered.

"Talya says that I might borrow your treatment room for a few minutes."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, help yourself." Sophia looked up from her terminal at Marion and gave an encouraging smile. "I know it's important, and I know you've been having trouble. Go on in, and I'll make sure you're not disturbed."

She climbed into the chair and tried to relax, to put her mind in a suitable state, but it proved difficult. Khiskov's final shot hadn't helped. The time of day didn't help. I should be working, not mucking about with a sample pot. At least I can no longer call it self-gratification. She shuffled around in the chair. I must find out how to adjust these things, comfortable I'm not. Grumpily she climbed out of the chair, put the pot down on the nearest work surface and peered at the control panel. By dabbing the various buttons she figured out how to make the chair do what she wanted before climbing back in again, sighing. What a performance. Where was I? Oh, yes. Of course, the pot's over there now. She considered abandoning the attempt and trying again tomorrow. No, this is for Belle. Get it over with. She climbed out of the chair again and fetched the pot.

She was careful not to let herself get into the same state she had at the clinic, but even so by the time she had managed to generate a sample she was flushed, sweaty and thoroughly uncomfortable. She cleaned herself up before opening the door, pot in hand, to exit through Sophia's office. Sophia looked up at her with sympathy in her eyes.

"I know you had to do it, and I also have some idea what it must be costing you," she said. "This ought to be the last time anyone will ask you to do something like this. Can you manage to get it along to Pathology?"

"I think so, Sophia. Thank you for the use of the room."

"Any time. Like I said, I know that it's important, both to you and to Belle."

"Is this the end of it, then?" Marion asked. "Can I start on the blockers? I've had about enough of this nonsense."

"Let's just wait till that," she pointed to the pot in Marion's hand, "has been received and checked by the Fertility Clinic before we start doing anything irreversible. That shouldn't take long, so expect a call tomorrow afternoon to get your next set of pills. Off you go, get that along to Pathology right away."

Marion passed on the sample to the next person in the chain and then returned to her office, her state of mind much more relaxed now that the unpleasantness was behind her. Talya looked up as she sat down.

"Everything go okay?"

"Yes, thank you. Why the concern?"

"Although you're still working with your usual vigour, you've been unsettled the last couple of days, and I guessed it was that. I know how much it means to you and Belle."

"Thank you again. Yes, it's done. I have to wait until it's been received and checked, but I think I'm finally ready to say farewell to the man in me."

"I didn't think there was much man left in you anyway, Marion. Emotionally, I meant. Of course, that's because I didn't get to know you until just before you were released, so I didn't see what you were like when you came here."

"Probably wouldn't have seen much even then. At first, I was just confused and disorientated, then I was told to keep a low profile by blending in, so that's what I did. Seems I was quite successful." Her eyes went to the clock on her terminal. "It's getting quite late, have there been any calls while I was out?"

A few minutes were taken reviewing progress and then it was time for Talya to return to E Deck. Marion accompanied her as far as the watch station.

"I'm going to go in the lounge for a minute or two to tell them what happened downstairs," she informed the Shepherds. "There's no reason that they shouldn't be told some of the truth, even if I have to keep the full details quiet for a while, until Site Security finishes it's witch hunt."

"You know what happened?" Elena asked, impressed.

"Yes, that's what I've spent today finding out. I'll tell you later, or you can just listen on the monitors."

Although it was only a few minutes before the doors would be locked, those detainees who were permitted out all crowded into the lounge to hear Marion describe what had happened to her the previous day. This was followed by a fairly simplified but accurate explanation of what had happened on M Deck, pitched as 'probable sequence of events' and 'based upon what had been overheard' during the first aid operation in her treatment room in Sick Bay. As the chimes went for the end of free time Marion cautioned them not to spread rumours about what had happened, and promised them the latest news about the investigation as she heard it.

She returned to the watch station as the doors were closed but had no need to repeat her story as it had been monitored on the pickups in the lounge.

"How much of what you told them is the truth?" Elena asked.

"All of it," Marion replied. "I'm not going to divulge any further details to them or to yourselves, because that would jeopardise Site Security's investigation."

Elena nodded. "Fair enough. We can keep our mouths shut, and so can the girls," meaning the detainees. "Gang members, eh? We've had the odd one or two up here, but they're not the type who tend to be suicidal or anything like that. More likely, they've tried to break away from the gang and have to be kept up here for their own safety."

"That's a whole sub-culture I know nothing about, and I'd mostly like to keep it that way," Marion said. "Isn't going to happen, of course, because I need to understand how such groups operate if I'm to be effective with them in here."

"Good luck doing that," Elena said. "Gang members are notoriously close-mouthed about what they do, presumably because of their intense loyalty to the group they belong to."

"They talked to me this time," Marion pointed out. "Although, I think that some of them, particularly the two young ones, were a little taken aback by the level of violence that resulted. Hmm," she considered, "That may give me a lever when I speak to them next time. You never know what might come in useful as a means of getting someone's attention."

"Do you have to go back to your office?" Belle asked as the group walked towards the lift at the end of the shift.

"No, I've finished down there for today. If I come up here with Talya every evening, that gives me plenty of time to talk to you and the gang, so I think I'll make that part of my daily routine."

The five women stood waiting for a lift.

"Didn't you say the other night that you thought you'd have to stay some evenings to be able to visit the trusty Decks?" Belle reminded her.

"You know how to upset a carefully laid plan, don't you?" Marion replied. "Truth, but that's not going to happen for at least a week or two at the current rate. It seems our services are heavily in demand amongst those I have been able to visit, new Decks are just going to make the situation worse. Once more, the situation threatens to get out of control."

"Was it actually ever in control?" Elena murmured as they entered the lift.

Marion sighed. "There's truth in that, too. To think that last week-end, I wanted to come back to work to have a rest."

"It will settle down, trust me," Elena said. "It just takes time. Don't forget, you're setting up a whole new function and you don't yet know how it will ultimately operate. Once the dust settles, I'm sure you'll be fine. I can't think of many of us who could manage to do what you done have so far."

As they were changing, Belle asked in a low voice, "Did you manage to do anything with that sample pot?"

"Yes," Marion replied. "It should have got to the clinic by now. I must admit, that's a whole weight off my mind."

Belle gave her a curious look. "It has often been suggested that that was where men kept their brains. Are you sure that's what you meant to say?"

"Very funny, you know what I mean. Are we going shopping tonight?"

"I'd thought to leave it till tomorrow, actually. Why, did you have some pressing reason?"

"No, just wanted to mentally prepare myself. Tomorrow will do fine. The day after, I have been, well, perhaps 'invited' is not quite the right word, summoned perhaps, to the board meeting. It seems that Donna has some ideas she wants to propose about my function here."

"She's not going to cause trouble about the calls in and out of the building, is she?" Marion had naturally discussed her work problems with Belle.

"No, I don't think so. She was as pleased as anything when I told her about the fight, so I don't think she wants to rein me in. She wouldn't be drawn on the details, though."

"Typical security. Speaking of which, I wonder if Jane's found out anything."

"Give the poor woman a chance! She's only had two days."

When they got off the tram in Old Town, Belle made a suggestion.

"I'm beginning to have an idea about tomorrow, with regard to the shopping."

Marion rolled her eyes. "Go on, then."

"I think that we might get a better selection if we went somewhere else. I was thinking, maybe we should go down into New Town tomorrow night after work. We can raid some of the big shops down there and then get a meal out before we return home with the spoils. How does that sound?"

"A meal out?" Marion said doubtfully. "You mean, in a posh restaurant?"

"In a restaurant, certainly, not necessarily a posh one. I don't want to sit there like a lemon trying to read a menu that's written in French with some snooty waiter leaning over me, then having them watch while I try to eat something I can't even identify. No, I had a particular place in mind, a small restaurant I've been to with the girls on occasions before, it's in Court Street, not far from the museums. I know the sort of food they serve, and they don't muck it about. Nice atmosphere, good bar, plenty of room to stash the bags, what do you think?"

Marion thought about it while they walked to the Enclave. They had managed to have a single evening eating out so far, the general lifestyle of a Shepherd didn't really accommodate much more. But with the change in their relationship, perhaps this was a good opportunity to spend an enjoyable occasion together while others rushed round and cooked the food. It also looked like their next week-end was going to be busy, so that left an evening expedition as the only option.

"Yes," she said finally, "Why not? That would make a pleasant change, and it would be especially welcome if we've been out shopping." She thought. "Of course, there's a question I have to ask, you know exactly what I'm going to say next."

"Of course," said Belle with a sidelong glance at her partner. "You're going to ask, what should we wear? The eternal question of womankind. And the answer is, just tidy day wear, I think. We're going to be moving about in crowds of people who will be wearing almost every style from work clothes to casual to sports clothes to uniforms to evening outfits. What we decide on, we can wear to work in the morning, no-one on the tram is going to blink an eyelash at what we have on."

Marion mulled this over. "Okay, then. I presume you have an idea just which shops we'll be visiting, as well?"

"Yes, I know the main shopping area reasonably well. Don't you?"

Marion shook her head. "I went there a few times with Anna, but that stopped after she died. I don't think I've been there in over a year, and then probably not the sort of shops you'll take me to."

Belle frowned. "Thinking about it, it's been a while since I went, so things might have changed. That might just make it more interesting for both of us."

*****

The communicator went while they were clearing the dinner things from the table.

"Service, Belle, it's Marcus. I wondered, if it was convenient, if you'd both like to pop over for a nightcap. I see you've both eaten."

"Well, we'd be delighted to, Marcus. Any particular reason?"

"Annelise wanted to ask you about your plans for the week-end," he said, but his expression said something different.

Belle took the hint. "We'll be over in about five minutes," she assured him. "End call."

Marion looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you said that the internal system was secure. Marcus apparently doesn't think so."

"You noticed? Come on, let's get this tidied up, grab a cardigan and be gone."

It was late enough that the girls had gone to bed by the time they were admitted to Marcus and Annelise's apartment. He ushered them through to the lounge.

"A drink? Just a little something for either of you?"

"Thank you, Marcus." Marcus poured and mixed their requests and brought them to their seats. Annelise was relaxing on the settee with her own drink and Marcus joined her.

"You don't trust the internal system," Belle said. "I notice you were very circumspect, and so did Marion. You think someone monitors the lines? I thought that everything in the Enclave was clean, it's the one place that pickups and monitors aren't tolerated."

Marcus waved his hand in a non-committal manner. "I just don't know. I do know that the apartments are clean, most of the ministers would never stand to have their privacy invaded. Don't forget that we sometimes entertain foreign guests as well, and it's often necessary to have frank but private discussions with them. The apartments are swept weekly, as you know. I can't say the same about the Enclave communications." He made a dismissive gesture. "However, that's not what I asked you over to talk about. I managed to grab a word with the First Minister earlier today, in circumstances which meant that we could discuss your seemingly minor difficulty without being overheard. It seems that your problem may peripherally be linked to some back-room discussions which various groups have been recently having. He didn't actually use the word conspiracy, but I wonder just what's going on." For the first time since they had known him, Marcus looked uncertain.

Belle asked, "Marcus, can you trust what the First Minister tells you? What I mean is, can you trust him?"

"I think so. I suppose in one sense I have to."

"Could he just be telling you what you want to hear?" Marion persisted. "When trust falls apart, like it seems to have here, it's very difficult to know who is on whose side."

Marcus looked uncomfortable. "That's the way to certain paranoia, but I understand your argument. He did say that he didn't know who he could trust in State Security, and that he didn't trust Defence as far as he could throw them. I think I'd agree with him on Defence. Tell them, Annie."

"It seems that the Education Minister who made this new proposal goes golfing twice a week," she explained. "One of his regular buddies is the Army Minister, and another is the Chief of Staff. In recent weeks, all three have been playing together regularly."

"Playing golf with fellow ministers is not that uncommon," Marcus added. "But the Army link is beginning to smell, especially given what you told me about your own service history, Belle."

"You said the Army Minister," Marion said slowly. "Not the Defence Secretary, then?"

Marcus shook his head. "His name wasn't mentioned, but I do know that he's a Progressive, the same group as the First Minister and indeed myself, so he may be innocent in this. It's lower down where the rot is."

"Progressives," Marion commented. "I hear these labels on the news, but I have no idea what they actually mean."

"Okay," Marcus said, realising that he was going to have to educate Marion to some degree. "Like any big organisation, the Party isn't all of exactly like-minded people, there are bound to be internal groupings of these and those who want different things, or who want the Party to develop in different ways. We have Traditionalists, Purists, Progressives, Conservatives and some other smaller groups. The Traditionalists want us to go back to the way we were immediately after The Uprising had succeeded."

He looked at the expressions on the three womens' faces. "No, I agree, we definitely don't want that. The Purists are worse, they think that the measures the new government took after taking power didn't go far enough. Gross stupidity! There's been enough similar attempts to do such things through history to know that it wouldn't work. The French Revolution, the Cultural Revolution in China, Pol Pot in Cambodia, you can probably think of others. Unfortunately, we can't easily get rid of these people, they have a level of support in the country even if they are a minority argument. The Conservatives on the other hand want the State to stay just the way it is today, so they object to virtually any change, forward or back."

He took a sip of his drink. "The Progressives, like Annelise and myself, agree that what was done forty years ago was necessary, but that the State should evolve like any other country. Our job is just to guide it as it develops naturally. There is another smaller group, the Evolutionists, who think that we shouldn't wait for change to happen naturally, but must push the State further and faster, in the direction that they would like it to go, of course. I'm not sure we'd have any control at all if that happened."

"So," said Belle, "who do you think is behind my own problem? The Conservatives?"

Marcus nodded. "Those, or more probably the Traditionalists. Remember, the Traditionalists revere your father for what he did. Most of them would like to return to those days, possibly with you leading the charge."

"Over my dead body," Belle said emphatically.

"That might be arranged," Annelise muttered. Belle looked at her with shock. She hadn't imagined that whatever was going on could involve her life. Annelise continued, "Don't forget, a dead martyr may be more use to them than a live but reluctant hero."

"It probably won't get that far," Marcus hurriedly said when he saw the look on Belle's face. "The First Minister wants to use your problem to try and flush out the troublemakers, if you're agreeable. This meeting, day after tomorrow, to discuss the Certificates, he has decided to make a full meeting of the Guardian Council, no absences permitted. He wants to try and find out where people's loyalties lie, and a squabble over something that's seemingly unimportant may allow him to do that. I know it's not unimportant to you two, but that's the way most of the government will see it."

Belle nodded agreement. "What else can I do? And do I need to have concern for my personal safety?"

"No, I don't think so. There's squabbling and plotting going on all the time at this level in any government, I think it's a natural law. I'm fairly sure this will all blow over and you'll both be able to get on quietly with your lives. Can I refresh your drinks?"

"I think you'd better, Marcus. Suddenly, my throat's gone dry."

While Marcus was getting the drinks, Marion said, "Annelise, you do need to know what we're doing over the week-end, don't you? We'll want to go for a run on one of the days, now that I've got all the kit and have been round the park once. Thinking about it, we'll also have to go back to Michelle, she gave me a sports bra which I wore the previous time, but I'll need at least two more, I think. Other than that, I think both of us would be happy to accompany you and the girls again."

"That's wonderful, thank you! Can we explore some more of the park, do you think?"

Belle said, "Of course. We can try going in a different direction each time until you're all familiar with what's to be found near the Enclave." Marcus handed her a drink. "Thank you, Marcus."

"So you see," he resumed, "It now looks as though this isn't especially directed at either of you personally, but rather that you've been caught up in somebody else's plotting. Leave it with the First Minister, he'll bring them all under control."

Marcus's confidence in the First Minister's abilities weren't misplaced. Thor Henning Backstrom was a powerful figure with seemingly infinite amounts of charisma. Exceptionally able, he had won his position through solid demonstration of his talents rather than the usual manoeuvrings within Party circles. He was a Progressive, though, and there were always those who wanted to see the State move in other directions, so despite his many positive attributes groups existed who wanted to see him replaced.

"Suppose it works the other way around?" Marion suggested. "This group who are plotting, suppose they say something like, 'If things had been done our way, the daughter of General Marchand would have had a proper position and family by now'." Marion was implying that Belle would have had someone who was an obvious male as a partner and would have been working at somewhere more important and glamorous than a mere containment facility.

Belle looked cornered. It seemed that either side could use her to further their aims.

"That's an angle I hadn't considered," Marcus said. "Even so, I think everything's still in it's early stages, so there's no need for either of you to panic. I will see if I can arrange some discreet cover for you, perhaps, but for the next few days or so nothing ought to happen. Who knows, after the meeting of the Guardian Council, maybe it will all be over and done with."

"About the other proposal," Marion said after taking a sip of her drink. "The one about party members in the Enclave."

"Yes?" Marcus queried. "As far as I know, both proposals are still on the list to be voted on, if that's what you mean."

"I was just wondering if Jane had managed to find out anything."

"Not yet," Annelise said. "She's been too busy the last couple of days, the girls have been doing nature trips and Jane got roped in somehow. Tomorrow, though, she's going to be in the Security Centre after taking the girls to school, to fill in her weekly report and get her expenses sorted out. She says that will allow her to find out what information might be available to her."

Marcus added, "I'm not expecting too much, actually. State Security are so paranoid that I'm surprised that anything gets done sometimes. And Jane isn't a systems whiz by any stretch of the imagination. I'll be delighted if she does unearth something, it'll be more fuel for the argument during the meeting."

*****

"I don't particularly like this," Belle said as they lay together in bed.

"It's an improvement," Marion replied. Belle looked at her with surprise. "What I mean is, it seems you're being used as a symbol, rather than as an actual person. That means the attack could have focused on anyone who is a child of a Founder. In fact, thinking about it, there's probably more than one Founder's child involved here. We must point that out to Marcus next time we meet."

"I don't know what most of them do," Belle mused. "I bet none of them does a normal job like I do, though. And they've probably all got orthodox families, too."

"Truth. If we need to find out things like that, we'll need Jane's services. Or perhaps Trish."

"You want to get further into this investigation, don't you?" Belle complained. "I just want to get out, to be left alone to do what I want to, not to do what some bat-shit crazy political type stuck forty years in the past wants me to do."

"I'd rather it wasn't happening either," Marion responded. "But it is, and we have to fight it, and to do that we have to know more. But know this, daughter of a Founder, I'm going to be by your side, always, through thick and through thin. If they want you, they'll have to deal with me as well, and if some of them think I'm just a silly woman hanger-on, well, aren't they going to get a surprise?"

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

"How's this?" Marion did a twirl.

"Not too bad, you look almost respectable. Not to mention delectable. Have you got any higher heels? I forget."

"There is the other pair, you know, the ones I bought originally. You want me to wear them to work?"

"You'll be taking them off once you get to work, remember. You'll need them this evening if you're going to be trying things on, don't forget."

"I see what you mean. What about the rest of it? Do I pass scrutiny?"

Marion was wearing a pastel blouse suitable for the office, crisp but thin enough to wear comfortably in the warmer weather, with a knee-length dark grey pencil skirt and matching short jacket. Although by now she had become comfortable and familiar with the clothes she wore they still sometimes gave her the feeling that she was being packaged, ready to serve on a plate.

Trouble was, the only person she wanted to be served to was standing in front of her. The thought of being placed on display for the whole of mankind - and she thought of that word deliberately - sometimes gave her very strange feelings inside. Perhaps, she thought, it's the hormones. Please, let it be the hormones.

"You look fine to me. What underwear do you have on? Facility Regulation?"

"No, because I know that I'll need to wear something better if I'm going to go shopping with you later. I have my facility things in a sports bag along with the washing, I'll change when I get to work, and change back before we leave."

"I'm impressed. Jewellery?"

"I don't have that much. I'll just wear the timepiece and the bracelet. You're not thinking of looking for accessories this evening, surely? We won't have very much time as it is."

"Truth, but the stores on Constitution Street stay open quite late, long enough to let us do what we need to. We'll leave accessories, we can always wander through Old Town some other time and look in some of the smaller shops there."

Marion had to take special care eating her breakfast, and realised that a great deal of the care and attention women took while eating was devoted to making sure that their clothes and face stayed the way that their owner had intended them to. Fortunately, their usual breakfasts did not leave much scope for accidents, but Marion realised that she would have to be extra careful when they dined tonight. It was with some relief that she got up from the table and helped Belle tidy up before leaving.

On the tram, just as Belle had said yesterday, no-one took any notice of them. In fact, there were other women on board who were dressed in a similar fashion. Marion realised that most of them were probably regulars, and that she hadn't taken notice of what people wore for some time. Part of that was down to her recently-acquired habit of flicking her eyes at every woman who boarded or alighted to evaluate what they wore, part was the old male habit of discarding such information as irrelevant. She now realised that this was not a good policy and resolved to try and learn more from what went on around her. Perhaps she had gotten too comfortable in her new role.

"My, you two look posh today," Kristina came alongside them as they walked to the facility. "Going anywhere nice?"

"Service, Kristina," Belle said. "Yes, we're off to New Town after work to fill in some of the gaping holes in Marion's wardrobe. We'd normally do such shopping at the week-end, but we're both liable to be busy so decided to slip away one evening this week."

"Yes, it's been a while since you last took Marion shopping, hasn't it? I expect you to tell us all about it tomorrow. That reminds me, I must check my own wardrobe, there's one or two things I need, especially now the weather's warmer."

"That's partly why we're going," Belle explained. "Marion's wardrobe was bought for when she was released, when the weather was cooler. Also, you may have noticed that some of her skirts are a little tight."

Kristina gave a chuckle. "I thought that was the way she wanted them."

"Not quite as tight as they have been recently. She's putting on across the hips, and may need to go up a size. This evening will give her a chance to try some better fitting styles as well."

They were still discussing the impending shopping trip as they approached the E Deck watch station after changing. Ruth was there along with the two night shift Shepherds and Elena could be heard walking along the corridor behind them. The conversation widened to include all present and they were still talking when the trusties vanished with the used breakfast trays.

The day shift bid farewell to Donna and Carla, the night shift, and settled down to wait for the next important event of the day when the doors of the detainees' rooms would be released.

"Heard anything more about your residency problem?" Elena asked. The look on Belle and Marion's faces told her much. "What?"

"We can't really discuss it any more," Marion said heavily. "Not at this time, anyway. We had an interesting conversation yesterday evening with various parties which somewhat changed how we thought about the problem."

"Oh. If you're sure?"

"At the moment it's for the best, Elena," Belle said. "We'll tell you what we can, when we can."

The atmosphere cooled after that exchange, and they waited mostly in silence until Elena released the doors and detainees began appearing in the corridor. Talya made her way to the watch station.

"Service all. You look serious this morning, has anything happened?"

"Yes," Marion said. "I'll tell you what little I can as we walk downstairs. See you later, girls."

Once they had got the bulk of the overnight messages out of the way Marion decided to pay a visit to S Deck. She had remembered that Felicia had yesterday mentioned some of the D Deck patients had been moved there. It wasn't far, just along the D Deck corridor to the back of the building and turn right. Marion couldn't understand why she hadn't been here yet, then remembered all the distractions she had managed to have so far in her job.

The detainees in here were supposed to be 'normal' types, but Sophia had said that the Deck was often used for recuperating detainees to improve before they were returned to the Deck they originally came from. She let herself into the Deck, walked along to the watch station and introduced herself to the Shepherds with her standard speech.

"I hear you have some of the overflow patients from D Deck in here," she concluded.

"Yes, that's right. After the disturbance downstairs we had to take some to free up beds over there," replied Rachel, the Senior Shepherd. "Is it those you've come to see?"

"No, I'll just work my way along, if that's all right with you. Is there anything special I ought to know before I start?"

Rachel shrugged. "A detainee is just a detainee. We try and treat them all the same."

"Well, not quite," Marion responded. "If that were so, there'd be no need for E Deck. And the disturbance downstairs was probably caused by girls from different gangs being mixed together."

"Truth. My apology, I didn't intend my remark to be taken that literally, more to indicate that we tried not to treat them differently. Will you be coming here regularly, Counsellor?"

"I will try to, but it's proving difficult at the moment. I keep getting distracted."

Marion worked her way through S Deck quite rapidly. She found that she knew most of the detainees since a large number had previously been D Deck patients. There were a few new faces and she spent a little extra time with them before walking back through D Deck to the ward. She managed half the ward before coming back to the watch station to find a puzzled Felicia with a message.

"I had a call," said Felicia with a raised eyebrow, "from a trusty? She said to tell you that a Proctor was coming in this afternoon and that you'll probably have to go to Director Khiskov's office later on to meet him."

"Ah, the trusty's my new assistant, Talya. If you need me and I'm visiting, you can leave a message with her, it's perfectly safe. In fact, I must bring her along and introduce her to you. She's an absolute whiz at administration, which is something I'm definitely not."

The Shepherds grinned, they all knew that Marion and bureaucracy didn't quite gel together.

"Oh? How did you ever wangle that, then?" Felicia asked.

"She was on E Deck with me, she helped get me exonerated. I'm not employing her out of gratitude, she has a fine legal brain and knows her way round the systems. She was a bit of a recluse up there, so I'm helping her adapt ready for release. Ask Elena about her if you want the full story."

"I'll do that, sounds intriguing."

"I'd better go and have my lunch," Marion said to the Shepherds. "I'll come back afterwards, I think I'll have time to finish up here before I have to go and meet this Proctor."

But Marion didn't have time to go back to the ward after lunch, because she received a summons from Sophia. When she got to Sophia's office, Belle was sitting waiting.

"I've just had a message from Professor Malenski," she began without preamble. "As it involves both of you, I've borrowed Belle for a few minutes so that I can see you both together."

"This is you in your capacity as our physician, isn't it, rather than Medical Director," Marion deduced as she sat down.

"Yes it is," Sophia confirmed. "I have had the final results of your DNA testing forwarded to me so that I can enlighten you both. It seems," she added, looking at her terminal for the actual wording, "that you both have clean DNA. Nothing bad, very few questionable recessives, some potentially good combinations in prospect. As far as Belle is concerned, she has more of her mother's physical characteristics, which is not unusual, but she also has some excellent attributes from her father. Of course," she said looking directly at Belle, "being a woman means that some of those traits will be expressed differently than they were in his case. You understand? You have nothing you need be ashamed of."

"Yes, Sophia," Belle replied. "I have seen some of him in myself, but I'm not him by any stretch of the imagination. I don't try to deny my ancestry, but I don't intend to be another General Marchand either."

Sophia smiled encouragement. "No, you're certainly not like him, you've turned out to be a fine balanced, sympathetic woman, a credit to the facility." Belle flushed with the praise.

Sophia turned to Marion. "As for you, of course the Professor had to dig deeper because of what the regression therapy might have done to your DNA. It seems in your case, very little at all so far as what you pass on is concerned. 'Good solid material' is what she says, with a note that almost nothing unwanted can come out of any union between your DNA and Belle's.

"With that in mind, I am instructed to notify you on Professor Malenski's behalf, and through her the Genetics Safeguarding Agency of the Department of Health, that the State desires that you bring forth children together."

Marion sat there overwhelmed. As she looked at Belle, she saw that her partner was similarly affected, even though both of them had been expecting this verdict from the agency. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. The major stumbling block had been passed, the future could only be brighter.

"Thank you, Sophia," she said. "It was what we anticipated, of course, but it still comes as something of a surprise, even so. There's always a nagging feeling that there's something lurking in your past that's going to come back and bite you when you least expect it. Wait a minute, you said children, not child?"

Sophia's smile got very broad. "Yes, I did. I have only known a very small number of people who have been given this permission. Belle may have as many children with you as she wishes. The authorisation is essentially unlimited."

Belle's eyes grew wide and immediately filled with tears. "Oh, Sophia," she said softly, her voice on the verge of breaking up, "I never expected anything like that. I can have..." Her voice failed completely. From viewing motherhood as something that other women did, to suddenly discovering that she could make her own family was a sudden shift in perspective she was finding difficult to adjust to. Her tears ran, and Marion swiftly rose and gathered her in her arms. The two clung together tightly, emotions unleashed, while Sophia looked on with her own expression of satisfaction. This was one of the things she liked about being a doctor, it was times like these that made her choice of career worth while.

Marion comforted Belle, her own insides buzzing with the news, but she realised after a while that something had changed. Belle pushed her away and looked at Sophia, her expression disturbed.

"Is this because he was my father? Is that why I've been given permission?"

Sophia's expression changed instantly, and her lips pursed as she considered how to explain this.

"The answer, as always, is yes and no. You've been given the permission you have because of the genes which your father and your mother gave to you, not because of the person your father was. It is true that his genes helped make him what he was, but that's not why you were approved. The Genetics Safeguarding Agency does not look at personal information when it comes to it's decisions, as you very well know. All data is anonymised so that there can be no question of bias one way or the other."

"But," Belle persisted, "I also very well know that it's possible for decisions to be amended, adjusted, changed afterwards by other bodies. Can we be sure that this isn't the case here?"

Sophia looked at Belle for so long that Belle flushed. "Professor Malenski would certainly know if any decision had been tampered with, Belle. She knows very well who you are and who your father was, and she would be very aware of any attempt to change the Agency's recommendation." Her expression softened. "I know the difficulties you've had to face because of who you are, and I understand your caution, but you can rest assured that what I have told you today is nothing more or less than the original decision of the Agency. I can also see how much this decision has affected you today. Can I get you some water, perhaps? Do you want to go and sit in the canteen with a cup of tea? I'll square it with Elena."

Belle waved a hand. "No, no, Sophia, thank you. I must offer apology for any accidental criticism of you or Professor Malenski, none was intended."

She dabbed at her eyes with a free hand. Marion released her and they sat down again, the excitement of the announcement having left both with powerful emotions racing through their veins so they were unable to relax.

"I'm not bothered by anything you've said today, Belle," Sophia said. "You're obviously had a shock, and an emotional one at that. It's part of the doctor's lot to see such things."

"Thank you, Sophia."

"What happens next?" Marion asked.

"Well, that rather depends on you two, doesn't it?" Sophia replied. "There's a lot of planning to do, and some of it will depend on your residency problem being sorted out. What?"

"Ah, that's got more complicated, Sophia, and I'm not sure how much we can tell you just yet," Marion said. "It seems we've stumbled into something big. Very big."

Sophia raised an eyebrow, but decided not to press Marion. Instead she said, "Aside from that, any pregnancy is going to result in Belle leaving the facility, do either of you realise that? I don't think you'll suffer financially, if what I know about either of you is true, but you both may wish to consider what either of you may do in the future, career-wise. And you'll have to regularise your relationship. Of course I realise that like most couples you decided to wait for childbearing permission before committing, but you have that now."

"Actually, Sophia," Marion said, "In a previous existence I committed before we applied for childbearing permission, but I know many do it the other way around these days."

Sophia started. She had forgotten that Marlon had had a relationship long before he had come to the facility, and that he had already received permission for a child with his original partner.

"Of course," she said. "Your previous partner, she died? You had permission?"

"Yes, Sophia. For just the one child, to start with. As for regularising our relationship, actually we haven't discussed it much." Marion looked at Belle, who gave a tiny nod. "That's because we wanted to get the residency sorted out first, I think."

Sophia looked thoughtful. "I'm not much of a political animal, but can you use the childbearing permission as a lever to help along your residency application? If the Genetics Safeguarding Agency says it's a good thing, that must carry some weight, surely?"

"An interesting idea, Sophia. I'll tell... our friends... next time we meet, see what they have to say."

"I must admit I'm getting concerned about this," Sophia replied. "If there's anything I can do, or that anyone in the facility can do to help, don't be afraid to ask. I'm not sure what anyone can do, mind, but you never know."

"Thank you, Sophia. Your support means a lot to both of us," Marion said.

"Back to the babies," Sophia said. "I'm very sorry, Marion, that you won't be able to bear your own children. Although very nearly all women assume that it is something that their bodies will do, I'm guessing that you won't ever have thought of such a thing, have you?"

"No! No, of course not, Sophia. I was brought up a normal man, remember? Men's bodies just don't do that." Marion paused for thought. "Even if I had wanted to become a woman, and been put through the correct Gender Reassignment Therapy, I wouldn't have been able to become pregnant, would I?" She shook her head. "I'll have to manage without that particular experience, thank you. Although..."

"Although?"

"Part of me is curious. It would have been nonsense before, but I am beginning to identify more and more as a female, so part of me wonders what I might be missing."

"You're almost right," Sophia said. "It's true that a male transitioned to female that way would be sterile, but the womb that results is more or less functional and there have been cases where they have implanted foetuses and brought them to term. Of course, because of your particular circumstances, that's not going to be possible. However," she smiled again, "there's no reason at all why you wouldn't be able to breastfeed your own children, take some of the load from Belle."

Both of them stared open-mouthed at Sophia. Neither of them had considered such a possibility. Marion recovered first.

"But, but, Sophia, is that even possible? I mean, I won't have been pregnant, that's what triggers breast milk, surely?"

"Oh, yes, it's possible all right. Depending on how your hormones affect you, it can trigger lactation if you're closely associated with the mother-to-be. It has even been known to affect fathers. Despite, as you may think, the lack of obvious breasts in a man, it seems that most of the mechanism is there in a reduced form and occasionally men have been known to exude breast milk once their partners have given birth. It doesn't happen that often, of course. In your case, there are ways in which your breasts can be stimulated to start production when the time is right."

"That's wonderful!" Belle said. She looked at Marion with such an expression that Marion wondered if Belle's brains had shut down at the mere mention of pregnancy. It was the raw drive that lay at the core of every woman's being, of course, and Marion drew pause at the thought of what that drive could do to her partner. Marion found that she was looking at a totally different woman, and she hoped that she could guide Belle through the months and years that were to come.

Belle continued. "It will bring us much closer together as a family, won't it? We'll both be able to have a good bond with our children from the start."

"Can we get much closer?" Marion asked. "And first, we have to have those children, and before we can do that, we have to make sure they have a stable home to be brought up in."

"Yes," Belle said, frowning. "You're right. As Sophia has said, there's a lot of planning to be done." She turned to Sophia. "Thank you, Sophia, for your incredible news. You've certainly made our day for us. I'm not sure I'm going to be very effective this afternoon, but perhaps I'd better be getting back to the Deck. Marion must have work piling up, too."

"I thought it was worth the risk," Sophia said. "In your case, I think it was justified. You only get told something like that once in your life." She pulled open a drawer and took out a blister pack of tablets. "Marion. Before you go, here are your promised blockers. Take one each evening before bed with water."

"Thank you, Sophia." Marion accepted the pack. "What about when I change to the other tablets? You know, when..."

"When Belle starts her period? Just carry on with these as usual. After all, these are to control your male side, aren't they, not your female side."

"Oh. Yes, of course." The two women stood.

"Oh, go on, get out of here!" Sophia said. "We've all got a lot of work to be getting on with. Try not to let the news get round the facility quite so fast, will you?"

Marion and Belle walked out of Sophia's office and the instant they were out of sight they went into a tight, passionate embrace. Immense torrents of emotions of kinds Marion had never before experienced overwhelmed her, and only their tight grip on one another kept them both upright. They kissed and hugged and the tears streamed down both their faces, staining their uniforms. A discreet cough brought them back to reality.

"Marion? Good news, I take it?" It was Talya, come to find out whether Marion had finished whatever she had been talking to Sophia about. The two broke apart, both reddening at being found like that in public.

"Yes, Talya, very good news. Let's all go back to the office so we can clean ourselves up a bit. Something you need me for?"

"Yes, I got tipped off," almost certainly by Trish, "Proctor Julian is in the building, and currently interviewing Detainee Sutton in one of the meeting rooms on E Deck. She wanted to make sure you would be free when Director Khiskov called. Apparently," here Talya's expression grew cautious, "she also understands that I will be asked to attend as well. That woman listens at too many keyholes."

"Lead the way," Marion said. "Actually, I don't think there's a single keyhole in the building, is there?"

"Not in the building, no," amended Belle. "Cuffs have keys and keyholes though."

Back in the office Talya and Belle took seats while Marion opened the door to her treatment room. Two orderlies were filling cupboards with medical gear from crates on two trolleys, and they turned as Marion came in.

"Service, Counsellor?"

"Service. Have you any face wipes here I can swipe? We've just had an emotional five minutes with Sophia."

"Certainly, Counsellor, there are packs in that lower crate there. Why don't you take three or four packs? It's not as if we've a shortage."

"Service to you both."

Marion returned and handed a pack to Belle. They spent some time cleaning each other up and then Belle decided that she had to go back to the Deck. Marion made sure she looked respectable again and turned to her terminal once Belle had left.

"So, are you allowed to tell me what happened, then?"

"Of course, but we've been told not to broadcast it. Belle and I have been given an unlimited childbearing permit."

Talya looked as if she had been zapped with a stun wand.

"Oh, that's wonderful for you both," she said after catching her breath. The expression on her face grew vacant as she tried to relate it to her own experience. Marion waited. Eventually Talya focused on Marion and spoke.

"It's quite a shock. Oh, I don't mean that I didn't expect something of the sort between you two, but it's made me think about my own circumstances. I have occasionally wondered whether I would have made a good mother."

"You still might."

"I don't know, I'm a little on the old side now, aren't I? And the Genetics Agency isn't going to look favourably on someone who has a criminal record, especially at my age." Her expression became dreamy. "I wonder sometimes what would have happened if I had committed to Gregor and we had applied, before we got pressured by his cronies." She looked at Marion. "Gregor Balenkov, he was the man who caused me to end up here," she explained.

"Whether he was good for you or not," Marion said gently, "Some part of him triggered a favourable response in you, and you can't change that. Now I don't know much about the way that the Genetics Agency does it's business, but you appear to my eyes to have many admirable qualities that could be passed on. I don't see why it wouldn't be possible for you to apply, if you meet someone else after you're released."

Marion talked with Talya for some minutes, realising that she was in fact counselling her assistant. Talya did have a maternal instinct, but her intellectual past had caused it to become buried, and it was only Marion and Belle's activities which had caused it to come nearer to the surface.

They were discussing Marion's future when the call came from Site Security. Anticipating a long meeting, they closed down their terminals before shutting the office door and walking downstairs.

"Ah, service, Marion, Talya, come in and take a seat."

Khiskov and Julian were in the Site Security Director's meeting room and they had obviously been talking before Marion and Talya arrived. Julian nodded a greeting to Marion and looked with interest at Talya. Marion took her datapad from a pocket and looked expectantly at Khiskov.

"You'll forgive us, we have to wait until the Controller appears before we can properly begin," Khiskov said. "In the meantime the Proctor here has been asking me about your history, Talya."

Talya looked taken aback, but a smile from Julian partially soothed her.

"Yes, indeed, citizen!" he said to her. "Since we spoke originally, I became curious as to your past. It seems that apart from the single indiscretion which landed you in here, your record in the Court Service has been exemplary, and you score highly on most of the evaluations carried out during your previous employment."

"You're too kind," she responded faintly. "That doesn't alter the fact that because of my criminal record, I won't be able to make use of any of it in the future."

"Don't be too sure of that! I have learned from your Director here that the Counsellor has sounded out a placement for you when you become eligible for parole, doing charity law work. I don't say that it would be what you were doing before, but it sounds as though you could be engaged in similar work to that you're doing for the Counsellor here. What do you say to that?"

Talya looked at Marion accusingly. "You never told me that!"

"Ah, we've been busy," Marion said hurriedly. "My apology, we would have discussed it once the workload gave us time. We have plenty of time to arrange your future, after all, your parole hearing is a year away."

"I may be able to offer a juicier alternative," continued Julian with a glint in his eye. "You could come and join one of my teams."

"I can't do that, Proctor," Talya objected. "I have a record, remember?"

"The regulations, you mean? It seems I know something you don't, then. You are correct in assuming that you wouldn't be able to continue working for the Counsellor once you were released, and it wouldn't be possible for you to work for the courts again. But the regulations I operate under are somewhat different." He gave a wry smile. "If that were not true, we would be seriously understaffed. Well over half the Enforcers you see on the streets have criminal convictions, and significant numbers of them used to be gang members. Oh, yes," he added, seeing the startled look on Marion's face, "the Director and I were just talking about the little problem you had downstairs recently."

"You employ gang members?" Marion asked, and figured out the answer as Julian gave it.

"Why not? They are the citizens, after all, who know most about how such groups operate. In some parts of the city, it's the only way we can keep a proper lid on the problem. The gangs obviously object to being controlled by the State, but they tolerate ex-members who become Enforcers, and they're mostly willing to moderate their behaviour if an ex-member requests it. In fact, some gangs even take pride in the fact that their members go on to become Enforcers, referring to it as 'promotion'."

"An interesting system," Marion mused. "Given recent events, Proctor, I would like to have a talk with you some time about gang culture. If you can find time, that is."

"Of course, I'd be delighted to."

"What did you mean," Talya asked with an intent expression, "when you said I could work for you, Proctor?"

"As you're probably aware, citizen, behind each team of Proctor and Enforcers there are back-room teams doing the hard work of research and investigation. Of course, Proctors lead the investigations but we don't have time, and sometimes the specialist knowledge, to do all the work ourselves. The teams I have access to have proportionally fewer members with criminal convictions, but there are three or four I can think of straight away. If you might be interested in such work, you'd probably be welcomed with open arms."

"Proctor, I'm overwhelmed," Talya said as her eyes began to fill. "Before I entered this room I had no future ahead of me, I thought that I was on the scrap heap. Now I discover that I actually have a choice of employment when I'm let out. Words fail me."

"Well," Julian said, "after our original discussion I wondered whether you'd be good enough material. That was before I read your record."

"Take your time," Khiskov said to Talya. "You have been given two excellent opportunities to choose from, and I am sure there will be others. I have no doubt that you will do your own research in the next few months to find out if either is suitable for you. Don't forget that being accepted for either of these will go a long way to ensuring that the Parole Tribunal looks favourably on your release, as well."

While Khiskov had been speaking Controller Brand had come into the room and now she greeted them.

"Service, Donna, Marion, Talya, Proctor." She seated herself and addressed Julian. "I understand that you want to discuss the case of Detainee Sutton, and indirectly my Counsellor's case. You'd better drive the meeting, I'm just an observer here."

"Service, Controller, thank you. But the link is not indirect as you suppose. It seems that they are in fact the same case, and the situation is far more complex than any of us suspected."

The four women looked at him intently.

"Is it going to be too complex for us to understand?" Brand asked.

Julian wrinkled his face. "Actually, some of it is too complex for me to understand, but I'll try and distil it down for all of you.

"Let's start with the Counsellor's case. Some cash was withdrawn from a dispensing machine by a woman using a card which appeared to belong to the citizen who is now the Counsellor, that is, Marlon Allen Hillier. Now, once I met him, I realised that something strange was going on and took him to the station to try and get to the bottom of the mix-up. You all know what happened next, and I am truly sorry for what happened to that citizen, even though he, she, appears to be adapting to her new life with some degree of success." He smiled at Marion and she nodded acknowledgement.

"After your staff," he continued with a nod at Brand, "alerted me to the discrepancy, I re-opened the case and began to search for other possible occurrences of similar events. We found two other women and one man in similar circumstances. The man had not been convicted, the Proctor handling that case deciding that there had been some kind of systems fault - which is what I would have done in the Counsellor's case had I been given the opportunity. Exhaustive analysis by a Proctor handling one of the women's cases showed that she could not possibly be to blame and that case was shelved as well. The other woman was convicted despite her protests. Following the Counsellor's exoneration this second woman was also released. There are a small number of further cases we came across along the way, most resolved without trouble.

"As part of the clean-up I made a full report and sent it off to a clearing bureau which deals with cases that can't be completely resolved because of systems faults or other reasons. I did get back an acknowledgement that the problem no longer existed, and I thought the matter closed until I was informed about Citizen Sutton.

"I opened the case yet again and tied all the others to it, making me the lead investigator for this particular group of crimes. As part of my investigation I went back through all the case notes, and it was then that I discovered that the systems fault which allowed the crimes to take place had been fixed four years ago."

There was a collective gasp from the women as they all realised the implications. Julian continued.

"Now we come to the area I have trouble following, but I'm assured by those within the relevant team that such things are possible. It seems that a routine software upgrade four years ago threw up this problem, that a duplicate ID would be thrown up on the registration of a death of a citizen. That is, of any citizen, any death. Naturally this was spotted immediately and a fix rushed out. It seems that the fix was tampered with in transit, as it were, in such a way that an unscrupulous person with the correct knowledge could turn this feature off and on at will, and also restricting the conditions under which it would occur, presumably to help prevent disclosure. It was also arranged to cover it's own tracks when it was used this way."

He furrowed his brow. "I didn't think things like that were possible, until Citizen Makrova here enlightened me. So, in essence, a person or persons unknown deliberately created a way for the system to issue duplicate - or almost duplicate - identities for unknown reasons. We've managed to figure out that most of the cases like the Counsellor's happened at a single office when the feature was presumably switched on and then forgotten, to be discovered by a clerk who worked there, one Petra Rosenberg. She worked the system, but didn't fully understand how to cover her tracks, and so eventually she was caught. What happened to the person who switched the feature in that office on, we don't know. They may have been convicted of another crime and be inside a Containment Facility somewhere, they may have died or left the country, we just don't know."

"You do realise the implications of what you've just told us?" Brand asked Julian tensely.

Julian nodded, his expression grim. "Oh yes, and I'm far from happy about it. The story gets stranger with the emergence of Citizen Sutton, however. As I mentioned when we previously spoke, Citizen Rosenberg couldn't have been involved in Citizen Sutton's case, as she was being arrested at about the time Sutton's crime was supposed to have taken place. Citizen Sutton," he explained, "lives and works in a residential school near Cross Farm, way over on the western edge of the city. Because the crime took place near to where Sutton lives, Rosenberg couldn't possibly have been involved. Sutton, we discovered, had recently registered the death of her mother at her local office."

"Yes, she told me that," Marion confirmed. "That's how we recognised that this was the same crime. So, is this the person who used the office where Citizen Rosenberg worked," Marion asked, "or another member of the same criminal enterprise?"

"We have no way of knowing at the moment. As for Citizen Sutton, I've checked her story via interview earlier and I'm satisfied that she is as innocent as you were, Counsellor. Of course, we have to go through the whole exoneration process, but she should be released as soon as it can be arranged. Controller?"

Brand nodded. "Yes, I'll have her status changed. She might as well stay where she is until release, I don't think there's any point moving her to another Deck for what might be only three or four days. Best keep her away from any bad influences, I think."

"I notice that Citizen Sutton is not present today," Marion observed. "I guess you have reasons for not inviting her to this meeting."

Julian nodded. "Indeed, yes. You and your assistant are safe, as you both know almost as much about this case as I do. The Controller is involved in the exoneration process, and Director Khiskov of course is in charge of security. It's security which is the present problem, and I don't mind admitting it's given me some sleepless nights since I worked out what was happening.

"We have to face the fact that for around four years, a person or persons unknown has been able to exploit the system to provide themselves with false ID cards without anyone being aware of the fact. Including State Security, I might add. Because of the implications I am going to have to turn the whole mess over to them. I'll still be able to trawl through the case files looking for other innocents caught in the net, but only State Security has the resources to analyse four years of transaction records to try and figure out what's really happening."

Khiskov pulled a face. "That's all we want, State Security tramping all over the building. But I understand your reasoning, Proctor. We'll co-operate as best as we can, naturally."

Julian shrugged. "I don't think they'll come here, Director. What's more likely to happen is that they will ask anyone with a specific connection to the case to travel to their own offices to be interviewed. That probably means the Counsellor, and maybe yourself or the Controller."

While they were digesting these unpalatable facts a woman knocked on the door and opened it.

"Director, Controller, the tea trolley is here. Would you and your guests like some refreshments?"

"Certainly," Khiskov replied, "send her in."

Drinks were served and a plate of cakes and biscuits placed in the middle of the table. Everyone waited for the tea trusty to withdraw before continuing the conversation.

"Proctor," Talya began, "we noticed that the same woman appeared on the videos of the Counsellor's case and Citizen Sutton's. Did you find out how that was done?"

"We made some progress, but there are still questions. We examined the two clips for some time before realising that they were in fact the same footage. Our best guess is that whoever was operating from the office Sutton used discovered that we were arresting Rosenberg, and hastily replaced the footage with an existing clip to cover their own tracks. The intention may have been to persuade us that the problem only existed at the office where Rosenberg worked, and that she should be blamed for everything. Needless to say, by the time we got round to investigating the Cross Farm office, there was nothing to be found. Not that we could find anyway, State Security may do better."

There was a silence as they all drank, and then Brand spoke.

"Thank you, Proctor, for informing us of this strange case. It perhaps is as well that some good comes out of it, because it will result in the release of an innocent citizen. I don't even want to think about what else it might mean."

"No, me neither, Controller. This is way out of my league."

"You said before," Marion asked slowly, "that you were going to turn the case over to State Security. Have you done that yet, may I ask?"

Julian raised an eyebrow. "No, not yet. I wanted to come here and interview Sutton first. You have a suggestion?"

"Yes." Marion was beginning to wish she'd never asked, but she had started, so... "If I might ask you to delay handing the case over for a day or two," she said. "It might be better."

"Better? How?"

"Ah, I have some information I can't divulge," she said, her cheeks getting hot. "Not about your case, though. About, um, I really shouldn't say."

"You interest me, Counsellor. You aren't giving me a lot to go on."

"Ah, I'm not sure that anything is actually going to happen, but if it does, your case may get temporarily lost." Marion decided that she had to say something, even if it lead to a potential security leak. "Tomorrow afternoon, there will be a meeting of the full Guardian Council." She caught Julian's gaze. "I have reason to believe that it might not be a peaceful meeting."

The look on Julian's face told her that that was the last thing he had expected her to come out with.

"Please," Marion continued, taking in all the others, "I'm just guessing, and I wouldn't want what I've just said to go beyond this room in case I'm wrong. But if I'm right, the same would apply."

"You amaze me, Counsellor," Julian said. "But I think I understand what you're getting at. You think there might be a, um, 'change of management', let us say, and that anything I send might get lost in the confusion?"

"Exactly, Proctor."

"I shan't ask what your source is, but thinking a little, you live in the Enclave now, don't you? Easy to get a hint of something if you're near the decision makers. Very well, it won't harm to sit on this one a day or two, in fact there's a little more research we can do in the meantime. Thank you for the tip, Counsellor."

The Controller looked at Marion askance, but Khiskov had a small smile on her face. Marion thought, she knows part of the story, but she doesn't know what happened last night. Would her smile be bigger or smaller if she knew?

The meeting broke up shortly afterwards. The Proctor took his leave, Talya walked back to the office with Marion.

"It's never dull around you, is it?" Talya said as they reached the office.

"Most of it's not my doing," Marion protested.

"I don't mind," she replied. "I think you've done more for my state of mind than almost anybody else could have, and it's all positive, even if I do look like a rabbit in the headlights sometimes. It's just the sort of varied activity I think I needed to get me out of my rut. What was I thinking of, stuck in that room for years! I had the whole thing totally wrong, didn't I?"

"Just glad to help," Marion said modestly.

"And thank you very much for thinking about my future, too. That was a kind thing to do. And I never imagined that I could go and work for a Proctor! When I was younger, that's what I wanted to be, walking the streets and righting wrongs. I couldn't do that because I'm physically not able to, but a chance to work behind the scenes for someone like that is not something I'd pass over willingly." She smiled at Marion. "I shall take time and think on all these matters. Thank you again."

"Not at all, Talya. Now, have you got enough to do before you have to go back to the Deck? I want to go and give Sutton the good news."

"Please go! I can amuse myself for an hour or so here."

Jeanette Sutton was overjoyed to find that she would be cleared very shortly. Marion told her that the Controller had said three or four days, and then realised that the High Justiciars would be at the Guardian Council meeting, so amended that time to a week or so. After leaving Sutton Marion walked through to E Deck, arriving just as the trusties appeared with the evening meal trolleys.

"Well!" Elena said, "What a day you've had!"

"You have no idea," Marion replied. "Absolutely no idea."

"I'm glad you've come," Elena added with a sidelong glance at Belle. "All afternoon she's just sat there with that daft look on her face. Mind you, I don't blame her, given what she was told today. You also have our warmest congratulations."

"Thank you kindly, all of you."

"Shopping with Belle down town, then?"

"Yes. I wondered -"

"Yes, of course, you two can get off a little early. For now, though, let's make sure the right food gets in the right slots."

Going down in the lift to change, Belle said, "Something happen in your meeting?"

"Oh, yes, indeed. But we can't talk about it till we get home. Understand?"

"Is this going to affect our shopping trip?"

"Not in the slightest. In fact, I think I'm quite looking forward to it."

Belle gave her a sidelong glance. Marion liking shopping? Whatever next?

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

"How do we get down to New Town from here, Belle? Taxi?"

They were walking up to the tram stop after changing and leaving the facility. They had managed to get away before the usual crush of the change of shifts, although there were numbers of evening shift staff walking down the slight slope towards them, and there were other workers walking to and from factories that lay beyond the facility. The sky was still light as yet, and it seemed that they would get to the stores before it became totally dark.

"No, dearest, although that's one way we could have done it. We'll get a tram out the other direction to the end of the line. It's only two stops, shouldn't take long. That drops us at Fairoak, where we can get a Blue Line train directly into the city. We'll get off at St. James's and catch a Metro up two stops to Constitution Square. As you know, that'll drop us just where we want to be - at one end of the shopping area."

"You have this all planned out," Marion said. "I assume it's a route you've used before?"

"Oh, yes," Belle replied with a smile. "When we go out on the town we change at work and use this route. Most of us could do it blindfolded by now. If we get all the connections right, it'll take us less than half an hour."

The tram they caught had familiar faces getting off as they got on, Shepherds who Marion knew by sight going in to start their evening shifts. A short ride took them to a bustling suburban shopping area where they got off and headed for the Rapid Transit station. They stood for a few minutes on the crowded platform waiting for the next train.

"I thought you didn't much like this sort of shopping," Belle said as they waited. "Earlier, you sounded as though you couldn't wait. What brought on that change of mind?"

Marion screwed up her face. "I wouldn't quite go that far," she replied. "I suppose it's just that we've had some very good news today, and that's put me in a good mood. Also, I've given my second sample so I don't have to worry about that any more. I can now just concentrate on becoming a woman properly." A man, standing unnoticed behind them reading from a datapad, did a double-take on hearing this conversation and decided to move further down the platform.

"I'm beginning to understand your point of view a little better," Marion continued, "and the prospect of adding to my wardrobe doesn't worry me like it used to do, because I now understand better how various items and styles relate to one another. Perhaps before I saw this whole business as a chore, at least now I see it as a necessary chore. Who knows, one day I might be able to enjoy it the way you seem to."

"You make it sound like hard work, love," Belle said. "Some shopping certainly is a chore, but clothes shopping for a woman is mostly a chance to have a bit of fun, try things out one would never otherwise be seen dead in, experiment with new styles, find out what works and what doesn't, generally have a good time and boost the old ego at the same time. Of course, it's lots better if there's more than one of you. Shopping is definitely a group exercise, although groups of two is good, too."

The train came in at that point and they squeezed aboard along with the rest. There was absolutely no chance of a seat to start with, but as they approached the next station Marion had a tap on the shoulder.

"Your pardon, citizen, we're getting off at the next stop. If you and your friend would like our seats?"

"Why, thank you, citizen."

Marion and Belle sat down facing one another as the train stopped. Marion realised that she was glad she was wearing a pencil skirt, because it automatically pulled her legs together and kept her posture that of a modest woman. She eyed the other commuters sitting around her, noticing the sprawled postures of the men, legs mostly spread apart. I will have to learn how to sit as a woman on these trains, she thought. It's different on the trams, the seats are so close together that one has to sit tidily upright, but on trains like these, where there is more room between the seats, I might slide into bad habits.

With a jolt she remembered the problem she had had one morning previously, when her skirt had been tight and exposed things best left unseen. This skirt is tight, especially when I'm seated. I wonder if I'm showing anything? Casually lowering her gaze, she found that she couldn't see her lap because of her breasts. Then she realised that her bag was in her lap, completely hiding the area in question. Thank goodness for that. It's one of the reasons, after all, why we're doing this trip, so that I can find some better-fitting skirts. But I must remember to be alert in the future, especially if I get some that are much looser-fitting. Something must have shown on her face, because Belle gave her a look and a raised eyebrow, to which she replied with a quirk of the lips and a tiny shake of the head.

After a small number of stops the train pulled into St. James's, one of the main rail stations. Like most of the travellers they alighted and headed straight for the escalators down to the Metro.

"Clamp your bag under your arm while we're down here," Belle instructed. "The Metro is a magnet for pick-pockets, especially in tourist season."

Two stops standing on a hot, crowded subway train saw them emerge into the warm evening air in Constitution Square. Although the sun had not yet set all the lights were on, both over the roadway and in the shops which lined the square and the streets leading off from it. On one side stood the Old Parliament Building, floodlit as was the Mansion House facing it across the square, the official home of the First Minister.

"You've been here before, surely?" Belle brought Marion back to the here and now.

"Um, yes, but not at this time of day. I don't think I've seen it all lit up like this except on broadcasts, and you know that's not quite the same. Where are we going to go first?"

"We need to work our way down Constitution Street," Belle pointed to a wide traffic-free street leading off one side of the square. "The first port of call, I think, will be Hansell's. We have to get you a Night Wrap, preferably before you're arrested."

The chances of Marion being arrested were almost non-existent at this time of year, but one could never tell what an officious Proctor might do if he stopped them. Marion knew the reason for the regulation, some years back two young women had frozen to death in separate incidents and others had been treated for frostbite. They had been out partying in town during winter and had not been wearing any outer garments over their party clothes, as was the custom up to that point.

A regulation had been hastily drawn up to prevent any further tragedies. Any woman - or man - who was not wearing appropriate outer clothing when the temperature dropped below specified levels would be immediately arrested and carted off to spend the night somewhere warm and probably uncomfortable. The required outer garment had simple specifications, complete coverage of the body, hem to cover the knees, sleeves to reach the wrists, optional hood, insulation efficiency to determined levels. The garment theoretically needed to be available at all times in case the temperature dropped below the prescribed level, although in practice this was not usually enforced during summer months.

A whole new industry had sprung up overnight. Most garments were made of space-age fabrics and could be folded up small enough to take as little space in a bag as an umbrella did. Styles, colours and designs proliferated. Most people treated them now as just another fashion item. Belle led Marion into the gaping maw of Hansell's and she involuntarily closed her eyes against the intense glare of the thousands of watts of lighting in the entrance foyer.

"Come on, love, it'll be better upstairs." They climbed on an escalator and went up two floors. "Have you any thoughts on what design you might like?"

Marion shrugged. "Can we just look around, see what's here? I've seen women wearing them, of course, but never thought I'd need one, so didn't examine them too much."

"Can't see why you would have. Look, there's a display over there. What do you think? Cloaks, capes, trench coat, poncho - no, I don't think so, a parka, swing coats. Those on the end are for pregnant women, I think. You realise most of these are completely water-repellent, don't you? If you pick a suitable style, you can keep it in your bag and use it as a raincoat instead of getting out your umbrella. Might be useful if you need both hands free. It's up to you."

"See, this is one of the difficulties a mere man faces," Marion said. "There's just too much choice. Yes, I know, there's a very good reason for the choice, but it will all make more sense when I've actually got a reasonable wardrobe. Your point about a raincoat is taken, though. Perhaps I ought to look at one of those?"

Marion tried on several styles and sizes before settling on a classic double-breasted trench coat. It had a matt-satin finish and was a colour the label called 'Titanium'. Marion fingered the fabric. It was very thin, the outer layer being of a microfibre material that repelled dirt and water molecules. The inner was a synthetic that looked and felt like raw silk but was more hard-wearing. Between the two there was a third layer composed of a thermally reflecting material normally found in space suits. The whole garment weighed at least half a kilogram and when rolled up fitted into a pouch the same size as her folded umbrella.

At Belle's suggestion Marion also bought a matching folding hat, a trilby made of the same material as the coat which was held in shape by fine memory wires in the brim and crown. This also disappeared into Marion's bag.

"Hm. You looked very foxy wearing that," Belle murmured. "This trip could turn out to be quite interesting. Right. Now we have done the legal bit, we can get on with the main event. Downstairs?"

Marion looked at Belle with interest. All the doubts and fears of previous days had been forgotten. Even the euphoria both had experienced this morning on receiving Malenski's approval had been dampened by Belle by her focus on the current task. In front of Marion was Diana the Huntress, her prey to be sought out on the rails and shelves of the many stores lining Constitution Street. This was a different Belle, a confident Belle who would certainly not take any nonsense from those who got in her way. With her partner in her present state, Marion felt quite secure, and that boded well for the success of the evening.

"Lead the way, partner. We have bargains to discover."

Since Belle wanted to cover a certain number of stores during the evening, and she apparently had ideas on what Marion needed, their progress through the departments was fairly ruthless. It seemed that no time at all had passed before Marion was standing in front of a payment point with a pile of skirts and matching tops over her arm.

"Your card, citizen," the assistant returned Marion's card and began lifting up the eight or nine bags to pass them across to her. "Thank you for shopping with us."

"Can you deliver these for us, citizen?" Belle asked. "We don't want to spend the evening lugging all these bags around the other shops."

"Deliver?" the woman repeated doubtfully, looking at them. "I'm sorry, citizen, I don't know that we do deliveries."

"Whenever I've bought from here before," Belle overrode the woman's protests, "There was no difficulty having the goods delivered to the Enclave."

"Ah, the Enclave, citizen? If you would be so good as to wait, I'll consult my supervisor."

An older woman came out of a rear door, spectacles perched at the end of her nose.

"Service. You wish to have your purchases delivered, citizens? May I see your cards, please?"

Belle and Marion handed over their cards. The woman's manner changed in an instant.

"Yes, of course, citizens! Your cards. Certainly we can deliver. Next time, to avoid any difficulty, if you would show your card to the security manager at the store entrance, your goods will be automatically flagged at the payment desk. Marie, take these bags down to dispatch, please. Wait a minute, I'll wrap this tag through the handles, that will ensure they end up at the right place. Citizens, I regret the delay, thank you for shopping with us."

"Well, I certainly didn't expect that!" Marion exclaimed as they took the down escalator. "I was wondering how we were going to manage with all those bags, especially as we've only just got started."

"Only just got started!" Belle echoed with humour. "I like the sound of that. Yes, they don't advertise it, but most of these stores will deliver. They would rather not deliver to certain parts of the city, so you just have to be persistent about it. Of course, just mentioning the Enclave makes a lot of difference."

"Yes, I've noticed how you shamelessly name-drop when it's convenient to you."

"I don't, do I? Of course, I've never lived anywhere else, so it probably doesn't mean as much to me as it would to anyone else." Belle's privileged background prevented her from understanding her own mannerisms. Marion decided that it wouldn't be too much of a problem if it made their life together more comfortable, but there were obvious dangers. They reached the entrance and again Marion squinted against the illumination.

"Next," Belle pronounced, "we need to go to Grainger & Grainger. You need at least two more summer dresses, you can't keep going into the park in the same one all the time. We can have a look at different styles as well as some of the other outfits on offer."

"What was wrong with looking in Hansell's, then? You didn't even bother in there."

"They don't really offer that kind of thing, they specialise more in practical daily wear which is why we got skirts and tops there as well as the Night Wrap. Grainger's is more fashion-oriented."

They found themselves back on the crowded street. Crowded since in the time they had been in the store the whole thoroughfare had filled with shoppers, tourists and citizens stopping to purchase things on their way to or from work. The noise levels were beginning to rise as they pushed their way the one block to their next target.

There were oasis along the way where the crowds thinned. Small black kiosks stood at intervals, each attended by a Proctor and usually four Enforcers, all keeping an eye over the crowds and making sure the business of the city ran smoothly. At the intersection of each block, where the traffic used to cross, a larger booth stood where other Enforcers waited, each with a leashed dog. Everyone gave these a wide berth. Finally the two women reached the entrance of the next store and entered.

"I've been here before," Marion said over the hubbub. "Anna used to bring me here when she bought things, although we couldn't afford most of the prices." She looked to left and right once through the doorway. "I have an idea. Are we going to be buying much in here?"

"Probably not as much as in Hansell's, but the bags will be bigger. Why?"

"Let's try that tip we got given there, then. There it is, follow me."

Marion pushed her way to one side of the entrance to where a uniformed man stood behind a desk.

"Service, citizens. Something I can do?"

"Service, possibly yes. We're going to be buying some clothes in here, it occurs to me that you may be able to deliver for us." The man opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Marion explained, "We live in the Enclave. My card, citizen."

The man closed his mouth and he took the proffered card. One glance at the screen and he gave them a smile.

"Of course, citizens, it will be a pleasure. Just tell the sales assistant whether you wish to take a purchase or have it delivered, and we'll do the rest. Your card. Enjoy your shopping."

As they moved into the store Belle said, "You caught on quick! It's not a thing I've ever thought of doing before myself, but it will make our task a little easier if we don't have to keep humping bags around. Ah, I think we need to go up a floor to find what we need."

Marion selected two summer dresses, one of a similar floral design to her existing one, but with simple shoulder straps instead of a full bodice, and the other a floral overlay over a complex arrangement of horizontal pastel stripes. She dithered over a third dress which had a pale pink plaid design.

"I'm surprised," Belle declared. "Here I was thinking I had to drag you round these shops and I see you wanting to buy everything in sight! What brought this on?"

"Nothing too earth-shattering. Since we've been in the park I understand and appreciate wearing dresses like these now. With the park just below us, I'm guessing we'll be spending some time in there in the future, especially if we are going in with the Mattesons, so I wanted to make sure I had enough variety to wear. Like you said, I can't just keep wearing the same thing all the time."

"Truth. But remember, fashions change all the time. You'll have plenty of opportunity to add to your collection as the months and years go by."

Months and years. Yes, it still hasn't really sunk in yet, has it? I'm going to be wearing clothes like this until the day I die. I thought I'd got comfortable with the notion of being a woman, but put like that, it makes one think.

"Love? Something wrong?"

"No, Belle, not really. I think I should have this one as well. What do you think?"

"I'd like to see it on you, but I think it goes well with your colour."

Marion pulled the dress from the rail and looked around for the changing rooms. The two made their way to the back of the department where an officious-looking dragon stood guard over what looked like an entrance to a grotto.

"Three dresses? For this citizen? Your card, please... I think cubicle two is free, citizen." She held her hand up to stop Belle following. "I'm sorry, citizen, you'll have to wait. You can see what she looks like when she comes out of the cubicle."

Belle stood in the entrance tapping her feet impatiently until Marion emerged wearing the first of the dresses. Holy crap, she does look good. Thank the stars that I got to her before any man set eyes on her. She wouldn't have stood a chance.

"You look wonderful, dearest." The dragon fixed her beady eye on Belle. "Give me a turn? Yes, that fits you perfectly." Belle turned to the dragon as Marion went back into the cubicle to change into the next dress. "She does look good, doesn't she? You have such wonderful designs in here, I'm glad we came."

Taken off guard, the dragon smiled. "I'm pleased that you think so, citizen. Your sister, is she?"

Belle decided to quit while she was ahead, so replied, "No, she's just a very good friend, but she's never visited the capital before. She needs to get some good basics for her wardrobe."

"She has a good figure, I see, but her posture's a little strange."

"Ah, a recent accident."

Marion appeared in the other two dresses to general approval and then came back with them over her arm.

"We'll take all three, citizen." She handed over her card. "If you can deliver?"

"Why certainly, citizen."

As Belle led her away, Marion asked, "What next, then?"

Belle promptly replied, "You need at least two party frocks. Over there, I think."

"Party frocks?" Marion came to an uncertain stop. "I don't think I'm quite ready for that, Belle. I've barely got used to going back and fore to work, even this evening is a big step for me. What sort of parties are we talking about, anyway?"

"Oh, nothing special, just the odd night out with the girls, to start with. After all, we had good news this morning, didn't we, and they'll all want to celebrate it with us. I'm almost certain that there will be other things to celebrate in the near future, won't there?" Belle looked at Marion with a kind of question on her face that plainly asked, I think I know where our relationship is going, I haven't got it wrong, have I?

Marion realised that without consciously being aware of it, she had approached several important milestones in her new life. Milestones that everyone was taking for granted, milestones that she suddenly understood that women customarily treated in a completely different way than men would. Milestones that would soon involve her in several very public appearances.

She temporised. "The girls, you say. Which girls are we talking about, exactly?"

"Oh, I'm sure half the facility would love to be involved, but of course that can't happen, especially as we're so stretched at the moment. I meant primarily just the E Deck day shift, we tend to go out as a unit. You of course are effectively an honorary member of that unit now. I'm sorry, I thought that you realised what was likely to happen."

"I didn't, I'm afraid. Let's go over there and sit down a moment," Marion said. She led the way over to a small group of chairs at one side of the department, normally used for bored male partners or tired older citizens to take the weight off their feet. Once seated, Marion chose her words carefully.

"Look, Belle, perhaps this is something we ought to have discussed properly beforehand, but it never occurred to me that I would have to prepare so soon for going out with the others." Belle's face fell. "Don't get me wrong, I did realise that it was going to happen one day, but not just yet. I should have given more thought to the consequences of going to the fertility clinic. Don't forget, I never expected to be fertile at all, so the news we had today hasn't properly sunk in yet. We've been distracted lately as well, haven't we?"

Belle nodded. "My apologies, dearest, I've been letting my enthusiasm carry me away. I haven't thought of how it might have affected you. And maybe I've been assuming too much."

"Not at all. We wouldn't have embarked on a no-holds-barred fight to get me into the Enclave if we hadn't both planned to take our relationship to it's logical conclusion, would we? It's just that the relationship is going to be somewhat different from what we both originally expected. I bet you never considered becoming a mother, did you? We need to have a good, long talk through what our future likely holds, and soon, too. Perhaps at the week-end if we can find the time."

Belle gave a sigh of relief, and her face lightened. "Thank you, dearest. I knew I was right about you, and of course you're entirely right about our future." She became serious. "But the girls will want a night out sometime very soon. They'll know that you'll have problems with that, and they'll probably tone down what we do, but they'll still want a party to celebrate and I don't think they'll want to put it off very long. That's why I suggested we look at frocks, that's all."

"It's why you wanted to come out shopping this evening, isn't it? In case we have to go out over the week-end, and I needed something to wear." Marion nodded thoughtfully. "Apologies, I've been a little slow on the uptake, but a discussion about what we planned to buy tonight wouldn't have gone amiss."

Belle looked suitably contrite. "Yes, I assumed you would realise what we had come out for, but you don't have the background yet for such expeditions. Do you want to carry on?"

Marion thought, and then dropped her shoulders with a sigh. "It's something I have to do sometime, so it might as well be tonight. You have to understand, this is an experience I don't have any comparison for in my previous life. It's not like the running gear, or even the other shopping we've done. I just don't have anything to relate it to."

Belle nodded. "I do understand. But places like these are perfect for discovering just what might work and what doesn't. That's why women take armfuls of clothes into the changing rooms. There's no obligation to buy."

"Let's do it, then," Marion said as she stood. "I won't guarantee to like any of it, but I must at least try."

"Good girl."

They walked into an area where mini-shops displayed rack after rack of evening wear, both short and long. Marion shuddered as she looked at it all. Every colour, design and fabric could be seen, although after a while she began to see that each concession in fact co-ordinated the clothes so that they formed practical sets.

"We'll leave the long stuff for another time," Belle said. "That's for properly formal occasions, and I can't think of anything that might require a long dress happening very soon. We could always pick up a dress or two in Old Town if something comes up suddenly. What you need is something like this."

Belle pulled a short green satin dress off the nearest rail and held it up.

"You expect me to wear something like that? No wonder young women were dying of exposure."

Belle returned the dress to the rail. "No, perhaps you're right. These are a little on the young side for us, I think. Let's go further round here, ah, this is more like it. How about this one?"

The dress was still alarmingly short, but at least had the virtue of a halter neck strap to support the bodice. It was cobalt blue, shiny and concealed very little.

"Or this one?" The second dress was black and just looked like a handful of lace draped over the hanger. The material was soft and flowing so it would have to be worn to find out what it looked like. "Here's another. Perhaps the classic Little Black Dress is what you should be aiming for tonight. No woman should be without her Little Black Dress."

With five dresses over her arm they returned to the domain of the dragon. She smiled at Marion and allocated her to cubicle one. Belle tried to follow but the dragon held out her arm again.

"Only the patron purchasing the clothes is permitted in the cubicles, citizen. The rule is there to prevent theft."

Belle gave the woman a long stare and eventually she responded with a stammer, "Ah, I wasn't implying that you were a thief, citizen, just that I'm enforcing the rules."

Marion, clad in just a slip, poked her head out through the curtain.

"Ah, I think I need someone to help me with these," she said.

The dragon turned to an assistant who was just handing over a bag to another customer behind them.

"Claire, will you help the citizen in cubicle one, please? She's trying on dresses."

"Yes, supervisor."

The young woman walked into cubicle one. Shortly there was a squeal and she backed out again, her hands over her mouth. She turned to her supervisor, her eyes wide. Belle abruptly realised what had happened and leaned over to firmly clutch the dragon's arm.

"Easy, there," she said, "don't let's do anything hasty, citizen."

The young assistant was coming towards them and tried to speak. "She, she has -"

The dragon turned a baleful glare on Belle. "Remove your hand, citizen, or I will call security."

"My companion did not become the way she is by choice," Belle said to both. At the same time she removed her hand from the supervisor's arm. "I was one of those who rescued her." She fumbled in her bag. "My card."

"You will explain," the woman said, in tones that expected no argument. "Or I will call security."

Belle leaned towards the woman. "That would not be a good idea," she said firmly. "The resulting court case I shall bring will not do you or your employers any favours. My card."

"Court case?" the dragon said disdainfully. "I don't see how we've done anything wrong here. You and your companion are the ones causing the disturbance."

She took the card from Belle and pushed it into the slot in the side of the till, activating the reader. She looked disinterestedly at the information displayed, wondering how this could possibly affect whatever had happened.

"What am I supposed to be looking at, citizen?"

"Well, you could start with my name, and then look at my address."

The dragon read Belle's name without recognition. Mention of the Enclave set alarm bells ringing, and then she looked at the name again and made the connection. Her expression underwent a complete transformation. An entirely artificial professional smile came on her face as she looked at Belle.

"Ah, Citizen Marchand, I had no idea."

"That's all right, citizen, you were not to know."

"The disturbance still requires an explanation, however."

"I would strongly suggest that you and your assistant join me in cubicle one, where I will explain what I can."

After assigning another assistant to handle other waiting customers the two women joined Belle in the cubicle, where a scared Marion stood against the back wall holding her slip up in front of her nearly-naked body.

"It's all right, love, we can fix this," Belle said to her.

The assistant called Claire spoke to Marion. "Apologies, citizen, I was surprised when I saw -"

"Those?" Belle completed for her in a low voice which she hoped wouldn't carry to the next cubicle. "Yes, my partner, for that is who she is, has been involuntarily changed from a man into a woman. She is still learning how to come to terms with her new life. I had forgotten that she would have to take almost everything off to try on these dresses."

Marion was wearing only panties and tights, and her male equipment showed plainly through the thin material.

The supervisor looked at Belle, a question in her eyes.

"We work together at a Female Offender Containment Facility," Belle explained. "My partner was originally sent there in error as an offender - and as a man. There were a number of serious system failures."

"A man sent to a female containment facility? The State does not make mistakes like that," the woman said sceptically.

"You don't know the half of it, and most of the story is under seal. He was changed into a woman against his will, and it is impossible for him to go back. The State acknowledged it's mistakes and he, she, has been given a permanent pension. I was one of those who uncovered the mess. What I have told you is in confidence, you understand?"

"I do indeed, Citizen Marchand," the supervisor said. "My apologies for over-reacting. You understand, we had no way of knowing. Shall we leave you together to try on the clothes?"

Belle nodded. "Thank you, citizens. And, of course, this whole incident would have been avoided if you had allowed me to accompany her in the first place."

After the two were left alone, Marion asked, "What happened? She asked me to take off the slip, then just went 'eek' and backed out."

"You didn't realise? She saw those." Belle pointed. "Bit of a shock to her, I should imagine."

"It never occurred to me," Marion replied. "Everyone at work knows, I never gave it a thought."

"Not to worry, I've managed to defuse the situation. Now, which one of these are you going to try first?"

In the end Marion chose to keep only the black lace dress. This was short, but it had the virtue of longish sleeves which were full enough at the top to avoid her shoulders becoming noticeable. It had an opaque black liner which concealed her from breast to crotch but the rest was just lace overlay. The neckline came lower than anything Marion had ever worn before, but the fact that it covered her shoulders more than compensated for that. Belle nodded approvingly. It was plain that the design was classic and that Marion would get significant wear from the garment.

"I'm sorry," Marion said as they went down the escalator, "although those dresses I tried all fitted, I felt extremely uncomfortable in most of them. It's going to take me some time to get used to exposing so much of my body in public like that."

"You felt the same way about the running gear to start with," Belle replied. "You seemed to adapt to that after you'd been out in it for a run."

"Sort of. I was concentrating so hard in getting my technique right I didn't really notice what went on around me to start with. Then, it seemed all right because I got so warm."

"I expect the same thing will happen with party clothes. Everyone will be wearing similar things, and it will get quite warm as the evening wears on. You'll be glad you're not wearing too much after a couple of hours."

"The heat," Marion said firmly, "is not the point, and you know it. Those scraps of cloth just made me feel like bait again. And why do they have to be in such lurid colours?"

"Because every woman wants to be different to every other woman, and a lot of them, probably most of them, will go to any length to be noticed."

"By men, you mean?"

"By men and by other women. As far as men are concerned, a woman's clothing is seen as decoration, wrapping paper to be removed later to get at the goodies inside." Marion shuddered. "For women, much the same in fact, but it's also for points scoring. My dress is more exclusive than yours, mine costs more, mine's more daring and so on. We do it the same way men do it about cars, or houses, or bank balances, but we can also appreciate the way that different clothes suit different people. Because all of us are of different builds and colouring, we need different things to wear. Come on, that delayed us a little but I think we can do at least two more stores before we have to give in."

They left the store and tried to push their way further up the street. The next store was slightly smaller and they gratefully left the crowds and went in the front door. This one was quieter and exuded an air of quality.

"Where's this? Oh, Petacci."

Belle led the way through to the dresses and they began investigating the rails. Marion realised that although these were ostensibly just party wear like in the previous shop in fact the materials, designs and finish were somewhat superior. She selected three from the rail and showed them to Belle.

"What do you think?"

"Good choice, but these are going to be just as skimpy as those in Grainger's. Have you looked at other rails?"

"Some. These feel different, though. Better made, if you know what I mean."

"I do, but it also means they cost more. Let me take a look. Not that one, I think. The colour isn't quite right for you. Have they got that in other shades? What about that one there?"

"Yes, okay. What's that you've got, is that for me?"

"No, I thought I'd try this one myself. It might solve your changing-room problem as well."

"Good thinking."

The assistant minding the cubicles in this store had no objection to Marion and Belle sharing a cubicle and helping one another. Marion knew instantly Belle zipped her up that there was something different about the first dress she tried. It was sky blue satin with a very short straight skirt that came to ten centimetres above her knee. The sleeveless bodice had a sweetheart neckline that just enclosed her breasts. Two fine straps made sure everything stayed in place. The garment looked simple but had a very carefully constructed inner layer that made sure the dress kept it's shape and stayed put. It fit Marion like a glove.

"That is so different," she breathed. "It just belongs on my body."

She tried to see herself in the mirror but Belle blocked her view.

"If you could do me up." Marion hastily helped Belle to adjust her own dress, a darkish red bordering on purple which showed as much flesh as Marion's did. Then the two turned towards the mirror.

"If you buy that and wear it out," Belle murmured, "you'll blow everyone else away. That's amazing. Really, it's more or less the same as a couple you tried in Grainger's but the difference is huge. That's why you have to pay more in here, but I think it's going to be worth it. You're going to have that one, aren't you?"

"Definitely. I think you're going to have to sedate me to get it off me. It just fits so well, and I understand now what you meant about knowing when you find something that works for you."

Belle nodded. "But you can't wear that out of the building tonight, dearest. Why don't you at least try some of the others on?"

"Spoilsport. I have to say, your own dress looks stunning on you."

"Thank you, dearest. Although," Belle considered the way the material had been gathered asymmetrically at the waistline to make a feature, "this detail looks a bit..." She turned each way to judge what it would look like from different angles. "Oh, no, I see what they've done now. That's clever. It fits quite well, I think I'll take it." She turned to Marion.

"That's a point you have to consider, dearest. You're still developing, so that beautiful thing you have on now might not fit in six months. Do you want to spend that amount of money on it?"

"Yes," Marion replied without hesitation. "If I get six months of wear out of it, I'll easily have had my money's worth. Don't you think?"

Belle regarded her thoughtfully. "After knowing you all this time, you're still full of surprises. Very well, take it, but I still think you ought to try the other dresses as well."

Marion did try the other things, but although the fit and effect was what she expected none moved her quite like her first choice, so she only bought that one. Yes, Petacci's would be delighted to deliver the citizen's purchases to the Enclave, and was there anything else they might like to look at? Matching heels, for example? Marion thought that she would need to spend more time choosing shoes than was available that evening so regretfully declined, but Belle suggested looking at formal wear while they were there.

"I thought you didn't want to look at long dresses just yet?"

"I didn't, but there are shorter outfits which can also be considered formal wear. Suppose you got invited to a wedding, for instance, as a guest."

"You mean, like my dress and jacket suit?"

"Yes, that's right. Let's just see what's on offer. Actually, I suspect anything here will look beautiful and fit perfectly but cost a month's wages. For the amount of use we're likely to get from such an outfit it wouldn't be worth it. But there's no harm in looking, is there?"

What was on offer looked sumptuous and Marion had no qualms about examining the items available. Unfortunately the prices were alarming and they decided that for the wear they were likely to get, they could probably find something elsewhere that would better match their budgets. They made their way out of the store back onto the street.

"How many more are we going to do, Belle? My feet are swollen, my back is aching, and I'm getting extremely hungry."

"Just one more, I think. Glock's is just up there, beyond the next block, and it's on our way to the restaurant. Then you can take the weight off those feet." Belle gave an encouraging smile. "I forget, we hardened warrior types can go for days on a sip of water and a bit of bread-crust, but fragile flowers like you need something more substantial."

As they started walking along the street, a commotion could be heard behind them. A whistle sounded, then shouts, and they turned to see a young man running towards them, weaving in and out of the still substantial crowds. Belle pulled Marion out of the way as the man ran past. Shortly, two Enforcers trailed in pursuit followed by a dog which had presumably been released by it's handler.

"Why did you pull me out of the way? We could easily have stopped him between us."

"Truth. But then you probably wouldn't have gotten a meal before midnight. You know exactly what would have happened when the Enforcers found us standing over that man. Best to just stand aside and let them get on with their jobs."

"Yes. That could have been... unpleasant. Let's get to this next shop of yours."

Glock dealt in Occasions, which seemed to mainly consist of commitment ceremonies, although one of the upper floors supplied dress uniforms of all types. Since the clothes were more formal and less subject to the vagaries of fashion, Marion found it easier to browse the rails and imagine what the items on offer might look on her. She was still slightly puzzled by when she might need such an item, and queried Belle.

"I'm thinking mainly of dinner parties, that kind of thing. Also remember we're not the only couple who are thinking of tying the knot, we could easily get invited to one or two personal ceremonies in the near future. It's a useful item to have in your wardrobe. Not to mention," her voice lowered, "there's the odd funeral we might need to attend, so if you can find something dark it might help."

Marion found two dresses, one black and one dark green. Both had short sleeves and were a simple princess line, falling to just above the knee. With the black one she also bought a short sparkly wrap to liven it up should she wish to wear it to a less sombre event. This store couldn't deliver, so they carried the three bags back out onto Constitution Street.

By now the crowds were beginning, like themselves, to think of food so there were less people about. Belle led the way to the next intersection and turned down the side road. On either side were smaller shops, mostly closed at this hour, but a fair sprinkling of restaurants were still lit up and doing business. Belle headed for a small frontage with a single word sign over it: OLYMPUS.

"Service. You have a table reserved for two, the name is Marchand?"

"Service, citizens. Ah, yes, if you would come this way."

The premises was just wide enough for two rows of tables each side of the central passageway from the door. At this time of night the restaurant was busy but not yet full, some tables clearly reserved for customers wanting a meal after visiting the theatre or cinema. It seemed to Marion that the restaurant went back a long way, further than she had expected. They were shown to a table with two seats, handed large, heavy menus, and left in peace. Their bags went under the table, out of the way.

"Ooh, that's better," Marion said with a relieved sigh as she sat down. "Boy am I glad to get the weight off my feet. Do you think they would mind if I slipped my shoes off?"

"Feel free," replied Belle. "Mine are off already. That's probably the longest you've worn those, isn't it?"

"I think so. I hope I can get used to wearing shoes like these for a long period, I do like how they set off an outfit and it would be a shame not to have the option."

"A lot of women feel the same, dearest. We all have different strategies for coping. Just don't make it too obvious, that's all."

"Ah-h-h. That's better." Marion wriggled her freed toes under the table. "I just hope I can get the shoes back on when we leave. How are we going to get home? Not by train and tram, surely?"

"No, not this hour of the evening, it wouldn't be prudent. We'll ask the front desk to order us a taxi a few minutes before we're ready to go. It's what we usually do when we come here in the evenings."

Marion looked at the front of the menu. "Olympus? Greek food?"

"Originally, but not any more. They do have Greek items on the menu, but as you can see, there's cuisine from all over the world in here. I would suggest, especially this hour of night, that you look at the handwritten sheet tucked into the front flap. That's what will be hot and fresh tonight. If you order much else they would probably have to go out and steal it from somewhere else." Belle gave a quirky grin. "I jest, of course, but it would take so much longer that we - the girls that is - often think that's what they do."

"The girls, of course, this is where you come." Marion looked around. "I wouldn't have thought that this would be... appropriate, if you know what I'm getting at."

"It's not so bad. By the time we get here, usually, we've had enough of the bright spots and just want to get some good food inside of us. See the door right at the back? That's the kitchen. Either side is a semicircular booth, we usually reserve one of those. In front of those, on the left is the bar, on the right the rest rooms and cloak room."

"This building seems larger than it should," Marion observed.

"Yes, it goes behind the shops on either side. We get on with most of the staff here, and they know we're respectable, so they don't mind us enjoying ourselves at the back. They sometimes push tables together for other parties as well. Picked a starter yet?"

"I'll have one of each, I'm so hungry," Marion said. "Tell me about the main courses on offer."

"Ah, don't overdo the starters, although I know you're hungry. If you stuff too much you won't be able to fit into anything you've bought, and then where will you be? Don't worry, by the time we've finished there won't be many empty corners inside, I can assure you."

The two browsed the menu and selected their starters and main courses. Both decided on the vegetable soup to start, accompanied by a basket of garlic bread. Belle chose a grilled buffalo steak as a main course, with fries and trimmings together with a side salad while Marion had braised beefsteak with steamed vegetables. What Marion knew about wine could be written on the head of a pin, so Belle selected a decent quality red for them to share with their meals.

Talk ceased while they began packing away the food. After a while the pace slackened as their immediate needs were satisfied.

"I'm impressed how much you managed to find this evening," Belle commented as she refilled their wine glasses. "A few skirts, at least one party frock and maybe a formal dress was all I was expecting."

"I had a seasoned guide," Marion replied. "You ploughed a path through those shops almost like a man would. I think I would have been overwhelmed by the choices, left to my own devices. With you by my side, it was easier to focus on exactly what I needed. It's also made me realise that I'll be doing expeditions like this into my future, won't I?"

"Yes," Belle said. "Does that upset you?"

"Not as much as I expected. A few months ago, it probably would have, but things have moved on and I'm adjusting inside. As I said before, I'm accepting the necessity of such trips. What about you, Belle? What are your thoughts on impending motherhood?"

"The idea is as new to me as finding out you were a woman was you to," Belle admitted. "It's going to take a while for it to sink in. As Sophia said, everything is going to change, and I suspect neither of us has the faintest idea how much it will change. I must admit, there's a certain amount of trepidation there as well as anticipation," Belle smiled at Marion, "not to mention serious quantities of daydream fantasies. But it's all tempered with the knowledge that our lives have become extremely complicated at the moment, and I really don't think it's a good idea to bring a child into the middle of all this, do you?"

"Not just yet," Marion agreed. "I don't think either of us will want to put it off too long though, do you?"

"No. Not once we get the residency business sorted out." She made a face. "Assuming that ever happens, that is."

"What about leaving the facility? I guess you'll find that hard. Have you worked anywhere else at all, since you left the Army?"

Belle shook her head. "No, nowhere. The facility is like a second home to me."

"Me, too."

"It will be difficult losing all my friends. Living in the Enclave means there's a barrier to having your friends come to visit. I can go to them, sure, but it's always nice to be able to return the hospitality."

"I'm sure you won't lose them all," Marion said. "I expect that I'll still be working there, so they can keep in touch that way."

The waiter cleared their plates and brought the sweet menu. Belle wanted more fuel so chose a Knickerbocker Glory. Marion erred on the side of healthy eating with diced fresh fruit, but decided that double cream would be acceptable 'just this once'.

"Can you talk about what happened this afternoon with Proctor Julian, do you think?"

"Not really, not here," Marion said. Her eyes lit up. "But I can tell you, he offered Talya a job!"

"You're joking!"

"No, it seems there are back-room teams working for the Proctors and the regulations are different to ours, so he's suggested she think about doing that when her parole comes up. She was absolutely flabbergasted, she'd never thought of such a thing."

"That's amazing, and it shows that we often make assumptions that have no real basis at all."

"Yes," Marion said dryly, "the Justiciar at my trial certainly did that."

"Proves my point. And, do you realise, Talya would never have been offered something if you hadn't chosen to make her your assistant? So, your own part in this shouldn't be underestimated."

"Thank you, dear."

"It's funny," Belle mused, "it seems you're at the centre of things, aren't you? Ever since the good Proctor set his eyes on you, way back when you were a mere man, there have been ripples, disturbances, happenings out of the ordinary. Oh, a lot of things have happened to you, but you've also affected the lives of a considerable number of those around you as well, too many to mention by name." She smiled broadly at Marion. "I for one am glad that your path crossed mine."

"I hope," Marion murmured, "that our paths have joined, not crossed. I have no intention, ever, of losing the most precious thing that I found since I came to the facility."

Belle eyes moistened. "Darling, we're going to cause a scene if you carry on like that. Not that I want you to stop, of course."

Freshly ground coffee held back the tiredness that both were beginning to feel at the end of a long day. Marion insisted on splitting the bill evenly, and once that was completed they forced their feet back into their shoes and made their way out of the building to the waiting taxi, bags in hand. Certain of the cabbies were used to taking people back to the Enclave so there was no problem with their destination. They settled back into the seat for the long ride home.

*****

The cab dropped them beyond the concrete blocks protecting the Enclave, since at this hour the only way in for pedestrians was through the control post Marion had used on her initial visit. There were no complications, although the duty guard did have a look inside all their bags to make sure that the contents weren't going to be used for anything illegal. The two women walked across to Block Four, both by this time beginning to wilt.

"Service, Citizen Marchand, Citizen Hillier."

"Arthur? Service. What are you doing up this late?"

"Waiting for you. I have a room full of parcels, bags, waiting for you. I see you had a successful evening's shopping."

"All our packages have arrived? That's wonderful."

"Ah, I don't know if everything has come that you wished delivered, since I don't know what you bought, of course. I'll help you to carry what's here up to your apartment." He got out a bunch of keys and led the way to a store-room beside his office. "Oh, and there was a young woman wanted to get in touch with you." He frowned as he tried to remember her name. "One of those who visited you last week-end with those two young girls. The nanny, I think."

"You mean Jane Sievert? She came over here? Did she leave any message?"

"She didn't. I explained that you had told me that the two of you had arranged to go shopping in New Town this evening and had expected to be back late, and she said that it could wait until tomorrow." He considered. "I may have misunderstood, but she seemed rather excited. Does that mean anything?"

Belle and Marion both managed to present blank faces to Arthur as they shook their heads.

"No, I've no idea," Belle said. "Perhaps it was something to do with our plans for the week-end. We seem to have been roped in to accompanying the girls into the park every week-end," she explained. "The Mattesons have lived in Block Nine for some months, but they hadn't taken the opportunity to explore. Now we've become acquainted, I expect we'll be back and forth to their apartment, and I expect Jane, the nanny, will come over sometimes as well."

"I liked those girls," Arthur said as he handed out the bags, "I like these blocks better when there are children about." Belle looked at Marion. Did he know, somehow? Probably not. Probably just a sentiment. Belle remembered what it was like when she was growing up, when there were dozens of children living in the Enclave, and remembered the fun they had all had.

Arthur put down the bags in their living room and straightened. "There you are. I'll leave you in peace now, it's getting late. Good night, citizens." He closed the apartment door behind him.

"Do you think Jane hit pay dirt?" Marion said as they kicked their shoes off. "Sounded promising in any case."

"Don't know, don't care," Belle replied, yawning. "Let's forget all this and just fall into bed. Don't forget we've still got to work tomorrow, although most people will give us a little slack as they'll know where we've been. Come on, I can barely put one foot in front of the other."

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

"Oh."

Belle had come into the living room from their bedroom ready to start making breakfast, but the row of carrier bags neatly lined up along the settee arrested her attention.

"What? Oh."

Marion had followed her into the room and discovered what Belle was looking at.

"We should have taken them out of their bags and hung them up as soon as we got in," Belle explained. "That way, they stood less chance of getting creases. I suppose I'd better go and do it, now, if you'll get breakfast organised. I'll have to go and find some spare hangers."

"I never thought about creasing, you're right. I'll start breakfast," Marion agreed.

Belle thought. "Hmm. Where am I going to hang all these up? This is more than I usually come home with after an expedition."

"What about in the study?" Marion suggested after a few seconds. "You can hook the hangers on all those empty shelves. No-one's going to notice."

"Truth. Unusual... but practical."

The coffee was bubbling in the pot when Belle came back.

"It's been quite instructive looking over your purchases in daylight," Belle commented. "I think you have some very good pieces there. Aren't you itching to strip off and try them all on again?"

"Of course, but I know we haven't the time to indulge ourselves this morning. As it is, we'll both be late in. Are you satisfied about the way our trip went?"

"Yes, as I said last night, I thought we did better than I had originally expected. Oh, apart from the little fuss in that changing room, of course. We'll be on alert from now on."

"Oh, yes. That's one mistake I won't make again." Marion remembered innocently stripping off in order to try on a party frock and exposing to a helpful assistant things that no woman would have in her panties. Only Belle's name and address had prevented the incident becoming even more embarrassing. "Trouble is, I just got so used to undressing as any other woman would, it never occurred to me."

"And so it shouldn't. The more natural you can act, the less notice anyone will take of you. You do realise, don't you, that despite all you bought yesterday, we've still got a lot more to do?"

"I did, I was thinking of that in the cab on the way home last night. Shoes. Bags. I'm definitely going to need a few more bags, aren't I?"

"Indeed. Even if you don't get something that matches exactly, you're going to need a small collection to go with all the outfits you bought. Different sizes and shapes for different occasions. Not to mention jewellery, although I can probably lend you some to start with. How about hats? And gloves?"

"Hats and gloves? Sounds a bit formal. You mean with those two dresses I bought."

"Mostly, at this time of year, but you're going to need practical outer wear in a few months time as well. Oh, good! The coffee is ready."

Breakfast finished, they got their jackets and bags and prepared to leave the apartment.

"Oh, that's better. I didn't much mind the higher heels I wore yesterday, but putting these back on is just bliss."

"It's good to vary the height all the time. If you don't your feet can get set in a particular position and it can damage your tendons and such. If you vary all the time, your feet stay flexible. Ready to go?"

"Yes. We don't have time to find out what Jane wanted this morning, do we?"

"Not really. I think she's probably getting the girls ready to go to school around now in any case, so disturbing her might not be a good idea. It should keep till we get home tonight. We have all week-end to discuss such matters in any case, haven't we?"

"I hope so. Oh! I never got round to telling you about the business with Proctor Julian either."

"That will have to wait till tonight as well. Was it important?"

"Uh, yes, absolutely. But fortunately it's not our problem any more, just inside knowledge."

While they walked into Old Town to the tram stop, Belle asked, "Did you see those four men who were at the table immediately behind you at all? They couldn't keep their eyes off us all evening."

"I heard them talking, but I couldn't hear what they were saying, and it would have been awkward turning around," Marion replied. "My attention was more on the couple sitting just behind you. They acted right soppy with each other. Oh, to be young and in love."

"Really? I wish I had noticed them. But my point was, we'll have to give you a crash course in man handling, if you know what I mean. There is no doubt any more that everyone thinks you look like a regular woman, even if you are convinced you aren't inside. That means you are going to get attention from some undesirable characters from time to time."

Marion groaned. "I know! But, to my way of thinking, they're all undesirable. I don't feel I want to reject them out of hand, though, it wouldn't be polite. I just need to let them know I'm not interested."

Belle laughed. "Sometimes that's not enough. Quite often it's not enough. Then you have to stop being polite, and put it in terms even they can understand." She became serious. "Occasionally, that doesn't stop them either."

"Shepherd training?"

"Shepherd training. Unless it's the one percent who've also done that or the equivalent Special Forces training, then you're stuffed. But that's unlikely. What we need to do is equip you with the basics so you can keep the other ninety-nine percent in their place." She gave a rueful smile. "Not to mention a small percentage of women who would like to get their hands on you as well."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of being so much in demand," Marion muttered.

"From a woman's perspective, it's better than not being in demand," Belle observed.

*****

They walked in the front entrance of the facility and Marion stopped in her tracks, causing a slight commotion behind her as others were forced to change course.

"My apologies, citizens." Marion headed for the reception desk, Belle following behind with a puzzled look on her face.

"Service to you both."

"Service, Counsellor. What can we do for you?"

"Your dresses."

"Ah, of course! We saw you wearing one, and we talked about it and decided we couldn't see any reason why we shouldn't wear one either, especially in the warmer weather. So Patty here asked upstairs and we were given permission. Do you like them? I think they're great, and so practical. The shirt and trousers is okay if you're a Shepherd, but we're not and I think this look is more welcoming, don't you?"

"I think you're right. After all, since you're always in the public part of the facility, I don't see why you should have to wear the same uniforms. You're allowed to have longer hair and make-up, so why not a dress?"

"Exactly. That's just what Patty said to Director O'Connell." The woman beamed at Marion. "I'm glad you had this idea, Counsellor."

"I'm happy to help."

After changing, they made their way up to E Deck where the rest of the Shepherds were waiting to hear about the shopping expedition. They were all still animatedly discussing it when Talya joined them and it was some minutes before Marion and Talya could take their leave and walk down to the office.

"You told me," Talya commented as they opened the office and got settled in, "on the day I started down here, that you thought I would have run out of work by the end of the week. Did you really mean to be that optimistic?"

"Hm. It appeared that way the first day you came down, that I'll grant you. We seem to have made our own work during the days since, haven't we? Mind you, we have Proctor Julian and a small riot to blame for some of what's outstanding. Why, are you worried about the workload?"

"Not at all. It just seems that your job, and by extension mine, has grown somewhat more than I originally expected. There's plenty of slack in the system," Talya said confidently, "we can cope with more if necessary."

"You do realise that I've only visited just under half the Decks so far, and those that are left have about two thirds of the detainees in them? Do you think we can handle all those, if the case rate is about the same?"

"Probably not," Talya admitted. "But then, it will take you longer to do the big Decks so progress will be a bit slower. Half of what's left is trusty territory anyway and I'm guessing there might be less problems there. So, what do you want to start with first today?"

Marion again visited the top two floors and then returned to the office to discuss progress with Talya. While she was doing that, Wanda came into the office.

"Service, Wanda. What can we do for you? Some problem on M Deck?"

"Service, Counsellor, Talya. Not really." Wanda suddenly looked diffident. "As part of my M Deck responsibilities, I've had to visit everyone on Deck to look at their injuries, replace dressings, and so on. A number of them have wanted to talk to me while I was in their rooms, probably because they are on their own. Partly I'm assuming it's because they don't like being shut up alone, and partly because it gives them privacy if they want to discuss something specific."

Marion raised an eyebrow. "You're saying that you've been talking to them the same way I would have."

Wanda blushed briefly. "Yes, Counsellor. I hoped you wouldn't mind."

"Mind?" Marion smiled. "Wanda, of course I don't mind. The important point is that the detainees feel willing to talk to you in confidence, and that's the main thing. If you think you can do that, then by all means, go ahead. Did you tell them that you were going to discuss their concerns with me?"

"Some of them. Some of them actually asked me to pass on what they said. That's why I'm here now."

Wanda pulled her datapad from a pocket and held it up.

"Er, can I call you Wanda?" Talya asked politely. When Wanda nodded, Talya said, "If you can bring your datapad nearer my terminal, and activate the synchronisation function. Oh."

Talya turned to Marion. "She doesn't have the functions Trish installed on your datapad, Marion. With your permission, I'll have to copy off what's on Wanda's datapad the hard way."

With permission given and Wanda's pad on Talya's desk she began to unravel the notes Wanda had made on M Deck.

"So," Marion said to Wanda, "You do want my job, then."

"Oh, no, Counsellor! I don't want your job at all. But I'm thinking that a place this size might need more than one Counsellor. I'd quite happily settle for a job working for you, though, even if it's part time. Not that I'm entirely sure I could handle it the way that you seem to do, though. Some of them seemed disappointed that it was me who turned up and not you."

Marion gave an encouraging smile. "No two people are going to be able to do this job the same way, Wanda. I wouldn't expect people to relate to you the way they seem to relate to me, and no, I have no idea why it works that way for me. At the moment, you're probably confusing them in any case because you're wearing three hats - Shepherd, Nurse and Counsellor and the three don't quite overlap in the way they are received by our clients." She paused. "I assume that you okayed all this with Diana?"

"Of course, otherwise she wouldn't have let me come down here. I can't stay too long in any case."

Marion nodded, then turned. "Talya, any success getting Wanda's notes off?"

"Another few seconds, Marion. There. Thank you, Wanda." She returned the datapad. "It will take me a little while to knock these into shape and attach them to the right records." She gave a quirky grin. "I have had plenty of practice doing that with Marion's old notes. Do you think we can get Wanda's datapad upgraded? It will make things easier if we can."

"I'll ask this afternoon." To Wanda she explained, "I've been invited to the board meeting this afternoon. If you wish, I'll bring up your interest in our activities. Have you said anything to Sophia yet?"

"Only the odd passing word since she found me in here the other day after the riot. Thank you, Marion. I'd better be getting back, it's almost time for lunch."

*****

"Service, Marcie. Ah! I see the lure of my uniform was too much for you as well."

Marcie beamed. "Yes, Counsellor! It's only the first day I've worn it, but I feel much more comfortable already. I'm glad you came up with this idea."

"Ah, I wanted it for myself for fairly specific reasons originally, but so many people have asked me about it since I started wearing it I'm not surprised that Controller Brand has given in. Are they waiting for me?" Marion peered towards the open door of the Controller's meeting room.

"They might be," Marcie said, "but they're not in the meeting room today. Ah, service, Director Hardacre." Miranda had entered the room. "I was just about to tell the Counsellor that the meeting's been moved. It's down the other end of the corridor in room sixteen."

"Thank you, Marcie," Miranda responded. "How's the dress?"

"Fine so far, thank you Director."

"Another satisfied customer. Shall we go, Marion?"

The two walked out of Marcie's office and along the corridor.

"Any idea why we're along here?" Marion asked.

"No, no idea. Sixteen is just a chunk of E Deck office space that isn't used, as far as I know. Here we are."

The room was perhaps the size of Controller Brand's office, Marcie's office and their meeting room combined. It seemed to have been divided up at one time from the evidence of paint and dirt marks on the walls. At one end, some tables had been pushed together and most of the rest of the directors were sitting around them waiting for everyone else to arrive. At the other end, surplus tables and chairs were stacked. A number of office cubicle partitions leaned against the far wall, and there were some odd boxes and crates piled untidily in convenient nooks and crannies.

"Come in and find a seat," Brand said as they entered. "We're only waiting for Sophia before we can begin." She gave Marion a knowing look. "She's always the last to arrive."

Marion sat down and put her datapad on the table and then looked around.

Brand noticed her doing so and said, "The reason for choosing this room today will become apparent later on in the meeting."

Khiskov, who was sitting opposite Marion, smiled, and Marion wondered if this all had to do with her recent cryptic remarks.

While they waited Brand synced her datapad to Marion's and copied the agenda to her, but before Marion could examine it Sophia arrived accompanied by Marcie.

"My apologies, all." She found a spare seat and sat down. "Let's begin."

"Thank you all for coming," Brand began. "Before we formally start, I should tell you that we're meeting in here because of an item on today's agenda. We'll be meeting in the usual place in the future. Also, from now on, although she does not hold Director status, Marion will be joining us for our monthly meetings." Brand gave Marion a stern but approving look. "This is because she seems to have generated most of the items on our agendas since she started working here. And, indeed, before that, when she was just an unusual detainee. So, Marion Hillier, Counsellor, I bid you welcome. I suppose I should introduce you to everyone here. Sophia, Donna and Miranda you know, of course. I don't know if you've had cause to meet the others yet. This is Evelyn Cord, our Director of Dietary Services. Next to her is the Facilities Services Director, Naomi O'Connell, and at the end is the Director of Deck Security Ursula Blaine. She's in charge of the Deck Shepherds. Now let's get on."

After the usual reading and approval of the previous minutes, in which Marion featured more than she might have wished to, they moved on to a report by each Director of the state of the department that they ran. This was mostly innocuous except for two items, the first by Miranda noting the production of a new type of uniform apparel.

"I had seventeen requests from various staff to be permitted to wear a dress like the Counsellor's uniform," Brand noted. "Most of them I had to turn down because it was plain that it would not be practical for those who asked. But as you may have noted, there are a small number of posts where it would not make any difference what was worn, most of these posts are administrative."

Marcie, who was seated behind Brand taking notes on her datapad, gave a big grin and Marion suspected that she had helped push the idea of uniform dresses for her own reasons.

"It was of course necessary for me to consult the Facilities Directorate, and as you might imagine there was resistance and a significant amount of confusion at the other end. I used the example of the Counsellor to show that such garments could be appropriate wear for certain staff inside a facility and the point was eventually conceded. So, from today, any staff who do not come into contact with detainees other than trusties will be given the option of a dress as uniform. I have been assured by staff who requested these that their use will mostly be during the summer period, when temperatures rise inside the facility, so the dress will remain optional as uniform. Counsellor, I know that your situation is slightly different."

"Indeed, Controller. I don't think that I'd be able to do my job if I wore similar uniform to the Shepherds, that's why we ended up with this dress in the first place. However, it has just occurred to me that there could be formal occasions where I might need to wear something different. I don't think I'll ask Miranda to make me a uniform set just yet, but I assume that one could be produced if it were needed?"

"Yes, Marion," Miranda replied. "It wouldn't take me very long to sort out what you need. Just give me an hour, or preferably two."

The other item which produced extended discussion was the riot on M Deck. This involved a detailed description by Marion of the apparent events leading up to the riot and what might have been done to avoid it, a summary by Donna of the actual riot as it proceeded, a list by Sophia of the injuries and a description of the damage caused and the repairs undertaken by Naomi O'Connell, the Director of Facilities Services. All the information would be collated into a report which Donna would write, once the questioning had been completed, for forwarding to the Facilities Inspectorate.

"And now, Marion, it's your turn."

"Your pardon, Controller?"

"Although you aren't a director, and you don't run a department, what you do is sufficiently distinct that it would make sense for you to give us a report on your activities. That's one reason why you're going to be attending these meetings in future. Your activities cross departmental lines and even reach outside the facility, so it's worth us hearing what's happening from your point of view."

"Your pardon again, Controller, I've nothing prepared. I can certainly fill you in on my activities, but I'm not sure what will or won't be relevant, and I might ramble."

"Don't worry about that today. Why don't you just begin, and tell us what has happened to you since you started as Counsellor here?"

There followed the most taxing three quarters of a hour in Marion's life, as she took the assembled Directors through the seven weeks that she had been doing the job. Brand was good enough to guide Marion, getting her to skip over mundane happenings and expanding particularly significant events during those weeks until everyone had a full picture of how she operated, why certain things worked and other failed, and how her job was becoming more dependant on contact with the outside world. It was with a great deal of relief that the tea trusty appeared and she could stop talking for a moment.

After the trusty had gone Marion was prepared to continue, but Brand stopped her.

"We've heard enough for now, Marion. We need to get on with some of the other items on our agenda. Don't worry, we'll come back to you later on." She turned to her datapad. "That's concluded the regular status report item on the agenda, let's move on to the extra items, the first of which is the formal ratification of Sophia as Facility Medical Director."

Sophia smiled. "As I told some of you during the week, I have decided to decline the post as Medical Director." There were one or two startled looks from those around the table who hadn't been told, so Sophia explained, "I was quite happy to become Acting Director originally, but it was the good Counsellor here who pointed out to me that I was making heavy weather of it, despite all the assistance I was being given. She said that she and I were similar in type, that is we prefer to be out doing things rather than sitting behind a desk battling the paperwork. Up until we had that talk it hadn't occurred to me that I could decline, and the more I thought about it the more I realised it was the right thing to do. After all, I'm trained as a physician, not an administrator, and I feel that my services to the facility would be better made in the former capacity rather than the latter.

"Consequently, I informed the Controller and recommended that she look for an administrator, preferably one who has a medical management background, to take the post instead. I will go back to being the senior of the doctors working at the facility."

"With one important exception," Brand qualified. "Sophia will become Deputy Director of Medical Services, and she has agreed to continue as Acting Director until we can appoint someone suitable. This appointment has other implications," she said, her eyes sliding towards Marion. "In particular, Sophia will have to vacate the current Director's suite when a new Director is eventually appointed. I intend to keep on three doctors for the time being, and to avoid everyone shuffling around unnecessarily, Sophia will be taking over the suite which was originally the spare one."

"You mean my suite?" Marion asked, startled. "Where do Talya and I go, then?"

"That's actually the next item on the agenda," Brand said. "Donna has been considering your position and activities and has proposed a solution which, as it happens, dovetails quite neatly into the necessary rearrangement in Sick Bay. Let's finish here before asking her to explain. Does anyone have anything to say about Sophia's decision?"

"I think you've been making a reasonable fist of the Medical Director's post," Blaine said to Sophia. "Of course, I only see the results, and I can quite believe that you fight the paperwork behind the scenes. I can imagine that there's much more involved in your position than in mine where the administration is concerned. You're probably right, though. I think you make a far better doctor than you do a bureaucrat." She gave an apologetic smile to those around the table. "I'm not intending to insult anyone here, of course, by that remark."

Miranda added, "I think it's in the nature of the job. Mine is substantially paperwork, since I handle all the ordering for the entire facility, and I have a team just to manage all that. But you can't have the same kind of team in Sick Bay for a number of reasons."

Blaine observed, "For someone who says she's at home with the administration, you seem to appear on the Stores counter rather often."

"That's why I've got a team," Miranda said with a grin. "Allows me to get out and about and keep my finger on the pulse. I expect Sophia's the same, she would rather be fixing people than fixing forms."

Sophia nodded. "That's it exactly."

"Very well," Brand said. "Marcie, have you noted Sophia's decision? We'll have to get the search for a successor under way immediately. Okay, let's move on to Donna's Big Idea."

Khiskov checked her datapad to make sure of her arguments before speaking.

"I was quite interested to see what Marion would make of her position when she started," she began. "The difference she had made on E Deck was undeniable, and I wondered whether that was because she knew everyone involved or because she actually could operate the way everyone said she could. I'm pleased to say," she looked at Marion and gave an approving nod, "that it was the latter.

"It soon became apparent, however, that Marion as Counsellor was doing something different than Marion the E Deck resident did. I noticed this because I kept getting requests for calls to outside agencies directed at my department. This only intensified once trusty Talya Makrova joined the Counsellor in her office. Despite the fact that Marion reports to the Medical Director, I found that my admin team were getting more and more involved in what she and Talya were doing.

"Now, as you all know, only Directors as a rule have the ability to make external calls from inside the facility. Yes, there are exceptions, there are some in Miranda's department who have to talk to suppliers, and two of my senior investigators have occasional reason to call the court services and probationary offices, but in general the rule holds. Marion, on the other hand, requires access to all kinds of agencies for a variety of different reasons, and they are legitimate reasons, too.

"I wondered why this had happened, and so I went down and spent an hour or so talking to her about her job, hearing much the same as she's told you today, but concentrating on those areas where her domain overlaps mine. I learned a great deal, but it was not until that night that I realised what had happened. Marion, instead of just being an ear into which the detainees can pour their troubles, had decided to do something about those troubles. As well as doing a fine job of counselling those who need it, she has inadvertently set up a welfare department."

Marion blinked as the truth of Donna's statement struck home. How could she not have seen it?

"It just seemed the natural thing to do," she said. "I couldn't listen to people's problems and then not do something about them."

"People have sometimes wondered," Donna continued, "why these places are called Female Offender Containment Facilities, and the reason goes back to the Uprising. Originally, these places were camps or vacant industrial premises surrounded by barbed wire, just holding areas where errant citizens could be detained until processed. The buildings and functions have evolved and gotten more humane, but the name remained. Unfortunately, along the way it seems that the idea of detainee welfare was forgotten until the Counsellor here reminded us of the need. Oh, we managed well enough without her before, and there are other Facilities around the country which still do, but it occurred to me that the whole system would be much more effective with people like her as part of the operation. Assuming, that is, that she was allowed to operate effectively."

Marion said, "I'd certainly agree that the current arrangement is less than perfect, but I've been too busy to think about how matters could be improved. I'd wondered whether talking with you would give me some ideas, but events overtook me."

Donna nodded. "I had a long talk with the Controller, and both of us have been in discussion with the Facilities Directorate about the problem. Controller?"

"Your position is safe," Brand assured Marion. "The evidence we presented to the Directorate of just your six weeks in operation convinced them that there was merit in what you were achieving. We also convinced them that the present arrangement wasn't particularly manageable. So, we have decided to change things around again. My apologies, you've barely had a week to adjust to having Talya and we're moving you again. As I mentioned before, Sophia's decision meant that we would have had to move you in any case, but Donna's idea would have required a move as well. So, in future, you'll not be just a Counsellor working alone in the building, but head of a new Welfare Section with the authority to do the things you need to. The new arrangement will still be classed as Experimental since I expect your new section to change over time as you develop your services. For now, you will still be part of Medical Services and report to Sophia. Donna?"

"The presence of Talya was another problem I had to solve. If she is to remain part of your department, and I can see every good reason why she should, that conflicts with the ability for you to originate and accept external calls. The Facilities Directorate drew the line at that, and I agreed with them. Since you wouldn't always be in your office to manage the external calls yourself, logically there had to be someone else to do it for you. There are a number of people in my department who Talya has been talking to regularly with regard to these calls, so I've decided to place one of them with you full time. And no, you can't have Trish, she's too valuable to me. Instead you'll get one of my young admin assistants, Mercedes Bennecourt. She'll still belong to my department, but she'll be working for you, in your new office, and she'll do anything you need her to do."

Another member of staff? And I haven't told them about Wanda yet...

"Thank you, Donna, I'm overwhelmed," Marion said. "You certainly have been thinking about me, haven't you? You mentioned a new office."

"Yes," Donna said. She raised her hand, palm upwards. "Here. In this room."

Marion blinked and looked around her. A bit big and empty, with a corner full of junk. Still, with three people they were going to need more space than her present office and it would keep them away from the Sick Bay traffic, give them room to expand and experiment.

"This part of E Deck," Donna explained, "was designated as office space for State Security when these buildings were originally laid out, but the security requirement got folded into my department a long time ago. It's been used on occasions for various temporary purposes, the most recent of which was the last office party, but it's basically surplus space. The Controller was quite happy to let you use as much as you need.

"I suggest you make use of those cubicle panels to partition off as much as you require and arrange it as you wish. Those panels are reasonably soundproof, so I also suggest you make up a little booth with a desk and a terminal in it. That will serve two purposes, you will be able to make confidential external calls without disturbing your staff - or the regulations, for that matter - and you can use it for privacy when interviewing people up here. What do you think?"

"I'm speechless." Marion slumped back in her chair, her eyes wandering around the space that was now hers. Was she about to turn into a bureaucrat? She roused herself and addressed Brand.

"I thank you for your vote of confidence, Controller. In fact, I thank all of you, because any one of you could have objected to the ways in which I've done nothing but bend the rules over the last few weeks. I just hope that I can achieve what you want me to do. I hadn't thought of the welfare angle, but you're right, that's just what it is. I have a couple of concerns I must mention."

"Go ahead, Marion," Brand said. "It can't be any worse than some of the things you've done already."

"Ah the first one is that, like Sophia, I'm a doer not an administrator. I will freely admit that if it weren't for Talya, I would be in big trouble by now paperwork-wise. I don't know that I'm suited to lead a section like this, it's not something I've ever done before."

"I'm sure," Donna said, "that Talya and Mercedes between them will run your office for you. We're well aware that you're likely to be spending more time walking the Decks than sitting at your desk. Don't worry on that score."

"Ah, the other matter is Wanda."

Sophia raised an eyebrow. "Is that what that talk was about? Does she want to join you?"

Marion nodded. "She does, sort of. She's been on M Deck since the riot and she's been talking to the detainees down there. Some of them are telling her their troubles, just like we told you ours before I was made Counsellor here."

Sophia considered. "It would be tough to let her go, especially as she's only been with Sick Bay a short while. We're just so short of staff. You're confident she's capable of it?"

"Well, as I don't really understand how I do it myself, I can't really say. I've not seen her in action. In fact, I was going to ask Donna if there's any footage of her in M Deck rooms I can watch to see how she handles them." She turned to Khiskov. "Am I allowed to do that?"

"It's a legitimate request," Khiskov replied. "I don't see why not. I'll get someone, perhaps even Mercedes, to sit down with you and find some footage of her at work."

"Wanda?" Brand queried. "Which Wanda are we talking about?"

"My new Medical Orderly Wanda Quayle," Sophia replied. "Although she does have a lot of experience in doing the kind of thing Marion wants her to do."

"Actually," Marion said, "I think I would only take her part-time and temporary, if at all. If you don't mind me saying so, I think you should push her into medical school as soon as you can. She told me she preferred to be doing practical things, where have I heard that before, but I reckon she would make a good paramedic if she could be talked into taking the courses. I watched her in action during the M Deck disturbance and she's certainly impressive. She's too good to spend the rest of her life in here."

Sophia looked taken aback for a moment, but then nodded. "Agreed. But in the meantime, if she has help to offer and she's not needed in Sick Bay, you'll make use of her?"

"I already am. Donna, can Trish upgrade Wanda's datapad, please? There are some extra functions she's put on my datapad to make my interview notes easier to transfer. It'll make Talya's life easier as well. Oh, and if it's not gilding the lily, would it be possible for Talya to have a datapad? How many regulations would that break?"

Donna grinned. "I'm getting used to outrageous requests from you, Marion. Upgrades are no problem, we can arrange that any convenient time. A datapad for Talya? I'll need to have a look at the regulations, but I'm sure we'll find a loophole somewhere. As a trusty who works in an admin role, I'm sure we can add that to the job description, can't we, Controller?"

Brand gave a resigned sigh. "Probably. Now, Marion, are you content with what's being offered? We can start to move you next week if you are."

"I'll accept, of course, Controller. I'll take time this week-end to think about all we've discussed, but what's been outlined certainly seems to cover most of my outstanding problems."

They talked for another few minutes about moving Marion and Talya up to E Deck. Donna said that she wouldn't change Talya's movement restrictions, even though her new place of work was just around the corner from her Deck, so she would still be able to go down to Sick Bay whenever she wanted. After that, they discussed some other minor matters and then the meeting was over.

"Ah, I don't know if it's appropriate to bring this up here," Marion said as they finished, "but I have a personal announcement to make which has a facility connection."

"Go on," said Brand. "We discuss all kinds of things once the main meeting is over."

"Sophia told Shepherd Marchand and I yesterday that we have been given unlimited childbearing permission. I thought you would like to know."

"Why, that's wonderful!" Brand said. "You have our congratulations."

The others joined in and Marion told them about going to the fertility clinic.

"So, you're going to be the father?" O'Connell said. "I know your background, of course, but it's still going to be a novelty. How many do you think you want to have?"

"We haven't had a chance to discuss it properly yet. A lot will depend on Belle, she might go off the idea after an awkward birth or two. Not everyone gets lucky."

"That's true," Sophia said. "Even though medical science has advanced, every birth is still an individual event and no-one can predict what a mother will experience. I wouldn't have thought that Belle would have much problem, though. She's a big, fit woman and I can't think of any problems she might have had down there."

"I'm hoping she'll be all right. Controller, you realise that you will probably lose her once we start our family?"

"Regrettably, yes. As if we didn't have enough problems finding staff. Still, I'd rather she was happy bearing and raising children than unhappy and working here." Brand looked at Marion. "We know the reasons why she decided to work here, she won't be able to use her job to hide away once she leaves. You'll have to consider that aspect when you do have your discussion together. I assume that you weren't considering leaving at the same time?"

"No, Controller. For now, I am treating our relationship in the same way as if I was a regular male partner. That is, I would continue working here, circumstances permitting. I want to get this new welfare section up and running before I would consider leaving, and I don't really want to leave anyway. In any case, I don't think much is going to happen to either of us for a good while, months if not a year or more. We still have a tricky residency problem to sort out."

"Yes," said Sophia. "Have you heard any more about that since we last spoke?"

"Regrettably not," Marion replied. "We spent all yesterday evening shopping, as you can see by the bags under my eyes. We might find out more when we get home tonight."

"Marion," Brand said. "You know that if there's anything any of us can do, you have only to ask."

"Shopping?" enquired Miranda.

Marion had said the fatal word, so the next half an hour was taken up with recounting her trip to New Town with Belle before they all reluctantly decided that the meeting ought to be closed. Marion started walking downstairs to her office, but met Talya coming up.

"Is it that late?" she asked.

"It's quarter to six," Talya replied. "I waited, but then decided you were going to be delayed so closed the office. Meeting go all right?"

"It was different," Marion said. "It seems I'm now going to be attending all future board meetings as a sort of junior member." The two started climbing the stairs back up to E Deck. "There's a big change for us as well. No, don't go in the Deck just yet, come this way with me."

"Marion? Am I allowed to go down there?"

"Only one way to find out, isn't there? And if you can't go along here today, you certainly will be able to do so from next week, as they are moving our office up here. Here we are."

She opened the door to room sixteen and showed Talya in.

"What's this?"

"This is where our new office will be. Director Khiskov says we can use some of those partitions to reserve as much space as we need, make it cosy. What do you think?"

"This seems a little large for the two of us. Why do we have to move out anyway?"

"Sophia isn't taking the Medical Director's job. To save shuffling everyone around, she'll take our suite when the new Director is appointed, but we were moving on in any case."

Marion explained Donna's thinking about Marion's function and Talya grasped the point immediately.

"You're right," she said. "But it still seems a lot of room for two people."

"Three. You speak sometimes to Mercedes Bennecourt when you want them to place a call for us? Well, she's going to be moving in with us. That means we won't have to keep bothering Site Security when we want something done. Four, if we include Wanda. It looks as if she'll be helping us on at least a part-time basis. I don't expect it to end there as we figure out how our section will work, but three-and-a-half is enough to be going on with."

"I'm impressed."

"So was I. This was all Donna's - Khiskov's - idea, and it's all been agreed by the Facilities Directorate. Come on, it's time we got you back to the Deck, or you'll miss your dinner."

As they let themselves through the gate Marion added, "If you want to go and have a poke round over the week-end, feel free. You'll probably have a better idea about how to arrange an office space like that than I would. I expect we'll have Trish along next week to sort out desks, terminals and communicators, and we can take our time moving until everything's the way we want it."

"You want me to do that on my own?"

"Yes, if you feel up to it. Oh, and check with Site Security tomorrow, I have asked if you can be issued with a datapad like mine. Once you get that, you can start laying out the office."

Talya looked at Marion with glistening eyes. "Oh, Marion, you're wonderful. I just can't believe all the good things that have happened to me in the last few days. I shan't let you down, I promise."

Marion smiled at her. "You're back in your natural element, and it shows. I have confidence in your abilities. Go on, go and get your dinner."

As Marion came up to the watch station she got a suspicious look from Elena.

"What have you done to that woman now? She looked ridiculously happy."

"Slight change being made to our jobs," Marion announced. She then had to explain to all just what had happened in the board meeting.

"You're going to be just round the corner?" Kristina asked. "In that big room they had the party in?"

"That's the one. It's got some junk in but we can partition off some space to make ourselves an office." She brightened. "So it seems that in a way, I'm returning to E Deck."

"It's hard enough keeping you away in any case," Elena said. "Still, if it means you'll be providing a better service to the facility, I'm all for it."

*****

"What a day," Marion said as they walked towards the Enclave. "Still, we can have a quiet evening in tonight."

"What about all those things you bought?" Belle asked.

"We can leave those till tomorrow," Marion said. "It would probably be better to look at them by full daylight in any case. Why? Having second thoughts about something I bought?"

"Just the opposite," Belle said as they pushed through the turnstiles and waved at the gate guard. "You have a couple of items I think you looked totally hot in, and I can't wait to see you in them again."

"What, really? I'd better take them back, then. I jest, I don't look that good, do I? I didn't think my figure was ever going to be that feminine."

"You'll be surprised, then. Since you started on the hormones again your shape is improving every day. I have trouble keeping my hands off you sometimes."

"What times would those be, then?" Marion enquired with a raised eyebrow. "You don't keep your hands off me that much as it is." She continued, "Besides which, I'm sure you have goodies in your wardrobe I haven't seen you in yet. Why should you be the only one who gets to ogle?"

"Perhaps we'll put aside an afternoon to have a trying-on party, then," Belle said.

As they stepped into the porch of Block Four both memories were tripped, they turned to each other and simultaneously said, "Jane!" However, any further discussion was cut short by the appearance of Arthur at his door. It seemed that he had been waiting for them.

"Service, citizens. Citizen Annelise Matteson called to ask me to tell you to especially make sure to call her when you arrived home. It appears to be urgent."

Belle puzzled her way through this convoluted sentence and then nodded. "Thank you, Arthur. I'll do that the moment we get upstairs."

Once inside the apartment Belle placed the call.

"Oh, good, you're home at last! Is Marion there with you, Belle?"

"Yes, she's right here. Is there some kind of problem? Your message sounded quite urgent."

"We have a tremendous amount to tell you. You're both invited to dinner, Marcus should be home shortly. I've invoked the Enclave Catering Service for this one, it's too short notice to do anything else. Can you come immediately?"

"Give us five or ten minutes to change, we've just got in the door. What's happened, then? Is it the Guardian Council meeting today?"

Annelise sighed. "Oh, yes. The government almost collapsed. Marcus has - well, let him tell you himself. And Jane will be joining us for dinner, she's still not told you what happened here yesterday. She's getting the girls fed at the moment."

"The government almost collapsed? Annelise, should you be talking about this?" Belle meant 'over the communicators'.

"Don't worry about that. It's going to be all over the news by tomorrow, it was too big for anyone to stop it becoming public." She fixed the two women with an intense look. "You'd better come and hear it all. You see, you're both at the centre of the whole business."

---

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) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

"Service, Belle, Marion. Do come on in." Annelise closed the door behind them.

"Service, Annelise. What on earth has happened today, then?"

"I've not had much detail, mostly some hints from a call Marcus made as he left the meeting. Go on through to the living room, please, I'll be along shortly, I was talking to the catering staff when you arrived. Oh! Maybe I'm assuming something I shouldn't. Are you both okay with fish tonight? Because it's such a short notice thing, the Catering Service suggested some of the fresh salmon they have on hand for another job."

"Salmon will do fine for me," Belle replied. "Marion?"

"Yes, me too, thank you. I haven't had any fish for a while."

Belle and Marion walked through to the living room. As guests in someone else's home, they both felt uncomfortable being left to their own devices and just stood in the middle of the room waiting for Annelise to return. Then they wandered over to the window to look out at the view.

The sun was low and the shadow of the building stretched out a long way in front of them, setting the edge of Old Town below this side of the Enclave in near darkness. To their left, the old and sometimes ancient buildings that comprised Old Town caught the light of the setting sun, and street lights were already on. In front and to their right, more modern buildings, many industrial, stretched away into the gloom. Although Belle had seen this view many times, the contrast between the view on each side of the Enclave always surprised her.

"Auntie Belle! Auntie Marion!"

They turned to see that Josie and Gretta had come into the room, presumably after finishing their dinner. In the doorway behind them stood a smiling Jane.

"Service, girls," Belle greeted them. "Service, Jane."

"Have you come to visit us?" asked Josie, and Gretta added, "Are you taking us to the park again?"

"Ah, tonight is a business visit," Belle replied. "I'm not sure we'll have much time to do anything before your father gets home. But yes, we hope to take you to the park again, day after tomorrow. Auntie Marion has especially bought some new dresses just so that she can look nice when we take you to the park next time."

"Service, Jane," Marion said. "I gather you had an interesting day yesterday. Our apologies that we weren't around."

Jane smiled again. "Ah, well, it was only earth-shaking. I dare say that shopping takes precedence over even that. You'll love what I have to tell you, but it will have to wait till the girls go to bed, I think."

Josie made a face that indicated that even at the age of nine she was inquisitive enough to want to hear the story. Jane laughed.

"I think you'll be bored after a couple of minutes," she told Josie. "And once your father gets home he'll want to discuss affairs of State, from what your mother has learned, so we're going to be talking about things too complicated for you at the moment." Josie set her face. "Don't do that, Josie, you'll stay like that. Not to mention, our talk may be confidential. I don't want you to hear things you might accidentally mention at school next week."

"I won't say anything, you know I won't!"

"Actually, I believe you. But it's always possible for people to say things in such a way that they can find out things just by how you answer questions, or even how you refuse to answer them. So, it's better if you don't know, then you can't be made to tell."

Josie considered this for a while and then reluctantly conceded. "But you'll tell us something, when it's possible?"

Jane gave a rueful smile. "I suspect I won't have to, it'll be all over the news by next week, I imagine. But at the moment, it's not, so we have to respect the secrecy rules. Okay?"

"Yes, Jane."

The door announcer went and they watched Annelise hurry off along the passage to find out who was there. Shortly she reappeared followed by Marcus and a black-uniformed State Security officer. All came into the living room. The officer nodded to Jane who returned the signal.

"Is Lieutenant Sievert remaining here, Citizen Minister?" he asked Marcus.

Marcus nodded, "Yes, she'll be here all evening. Thank you, Major. I'll call you in the morning when I need an escort."

The officer saluted Marcus and left.

Annelise looked surprised. "You get an escort now, do you? Or is he a guard?"

"Escort," Marcus replied briefly. He turned to Marion and Belle. "Service, friends. Whoo! What a day!"

His daughters had come and wrapped themselves around him as soon as the State Security officer had gone. "Greetings, girls! I've had a rare old day today, and I'm quite tired. Have you had dinner?"

"Yes, daddy," Gretta replied. "Are there nasty things happening? Will we have to move again? I don't want to go to another school, I like this one."

Marcus laughed. "No! No, nothing like that. We're staying right here, although there will be a few small changes in the future." He gave a quick significant glance at Jane. "You won't be changing schools just at the moment."

Annelise crossed to Marcus and she leaned across her daughters to give him a welcoming kiss. She said, "Dinner will be in about twenty minutes or so, I think. It was all arranged at short notice, so the service may not be up to scratch."

"That's fine," he replied. "why don't I take the girls off to their room and spend a few minutes with them while you four relax in here? Help yourselves to drinks, please. Perhaps Jane can tell you about her bit of fun yesterday. That's one of the things that started the ball rolling today, I'll tell you about that over dinner."

Annelise raised an eyebrow and then nodded. "Go on, then. I'll look after our guests."

Gretta pulled a face. "Awww! Jane was reading us a story. Why can't Jane read us the story tonight?"

Annelise sighed. "All right! Jane, you'd better go with Marcus and sort these two out or we'll never hear the end of it. I'll look after Belle and Marion till dinner's ready."

After they were left alone, Annelise got Marion and Belle drinks and they sat and relaxed for a few moments.

"After Jane had her bit of excitement yesterday," Annelise explained, "Marcus thought he'd better go and see the First Minister and tell him what she'd found and what happened afterwards. He'd realised that it would make a difference how the First Minister tackled the Guardian Council meeting. So, off he went first thing and that's the last I saw of him until just now. But he called once the meeting had ended to say that there had been a huge ruckus and to get you two over here for dinner so that he could explain. I'm not sure whether the situation is good or bad, we'll have to wait for the gory details."

"Sounds mysterious," Belle said, sipping her drink.

"He did say there was no way they were going to keep what happened confidential. Apparently a number of ministers lost their jobs, and there were some arrests. Oh, and that you two were instrumental in causing it all. I got a bit anxious then, we all remember what has happened to people in the past when there's been trouble in the Council."

"Us?" Marion said. "How? Just because I wanted to come and live with Belle?"

Annelise shrugged. "Maybe. Perhaps that was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Perhaps there's something else you've managed to do that's upset everyone."

"Like what? Getting sent to the wrong kind of Containment Facility, perhaps? I thought all that got laid to rest when I was exonerated."

"We'll just have to wait for Marcus to tell us," Annelise said.

Marion put down her drink. "There is another matter," she said slowly. "But, we'd deliberately delayed forwarding the file until after the meeting just in case there was trouble today."

"What's that?" asked Belle. "Not that Julian thing you were going to tell me about."

"That Julian thing, yes. We've a few minutes, why not?"

Marion recounted the meeting she'd had with Proctor Julian where he had told them of his discoveries in the case which had originally seen her sent to Female Offender Containment Facility Five. In particular, she told them how the apparent software flaw had turned out to have become an engineered one, able to be turned on and off at will by unknown parties. And that this situation had existed for four years.

"Are you serious?" Annelise asked, alarm in her expression. "For four years someone has had the ability to create bogus ID cards?"

"I'm afraid so. Proctor Julian was in the process of forwarding his report to State Security, but I suggested he wait until after the Council meeting today in case there was some upheaval. I know it's easy for things to get lost in such circumstances."

"Oh, my. You'll have to tell him all you know, tonight. This is too important, even after all that's happened today."

"Tell me what, my sweet?" Marcus said from the doorway.

"Marcus, Marion has some... disturbing news. I don't know how it fits in with your own day, but you need to hear it tonight."

"More? Well, it might be something we covered today. Come, all of you, dinner is about to be served. Jane will be along in a few moments. The girls seem to have caught the mood, they say they will be quite happy left on their own for once."

The three women followed Marcus into the dining room and found seats around the table. Marcus opened and poured wine and then they waited for the soup starter to be served.

"The rule is suspended for this evening, Marcus," Annelise said. "I have a feeling we're going to need the time in order to cover everything."

"Yes," Marcus ruminated as he tested his wine, "you're probably right just this once. But let Jane tell her story first."

Jane arrived as the others were being served with soup, and she hurriedly took her seat and prepared herself for the meal.

"The girls are fine," she told Annelise. "Josie is reading one of her set schoolbooks and Gretta is almost asleep."

"I think it's time you told Belle and Marion what happened yesterday, Jane," Annelise said. "We'll talk over dinner just this once."

"Thank you, Annelise." Jane took some mouthfuls of soup before speaking.

"Once a week I have to go to the Security Centre to make a report on what I've been doing the past eight days," she began. "Pretty boring, as you can imagine. Every month I also have to make out an expenses claim, and I did that yesterday as well. Now, all the non-uniformed security personnel like myself always do our form-filling at the same time, and afterwards there's a meeting with Major Rodriguez where we get a quick debrief and an advance warning of special events that might affect us in the following week. You know the sort of thing.

"I got there early and finished my form-filling, and there were terminals free, so I took a chance and spent a few minutes trying to figure out how to query the residential database to find out which were Party members and which weren't. It's not easy doing that stuff, is it? I'd got to a position where I figured out that I could get the list I wanted in another couple of goes or so, when I realised that Major Rodriguez was leaning over my shoulder asking me what I thought I was doing accessing the residents' database."

"Oh," Belle said. "Busted."

"Exactly what I thought. So, I decided to tell him the truth. I told him I'd heard a Minister saying that this new Party membership rule had been proposed, and it had occurred to me to wonder how many residents in the Enclave weren't Party members." There was a twinkle in her eye as she continued, "I carefully didn't mention that the Minister I'd heard was actually speaking to me at the time!"

There was a chuckle from those round the table. A pause followed while they took care of the soup.

"This was the first that the good Major had heard of the proposal," she continued, "and his curiosity was roused, so he actually helped me figure out the correct query and run it. We had a list of forty-seven people, twenty-eight of whom were children. There were some significant names amongst the other nineteen, all of them being partners of Ministers or other qualified residents. The Major was still trying to find a justification for the new regulation when he discovered that his own partner was on the list."

There was another pause as the catering staff cleared the soup plates and utensils from the table. Jane obviously didn't want to talk while they were serving, since that was a fine way to start rumours flying around the Enclave's service staff. Once the salmon and vegetables had been served to all, and the caterers had retired, she resumed.

"Since the proposal seemed to fly in the face of common sense Major Rodriguez asked me what was going on, and so I told him about Marion wanting to come and live here with Belle, and the fact that there seemed to be an undercurrent trying to keep her out for no obvious reason. So he copied off the list and the debriefing meeting turned into a council of war. Of course, all the usual helpers like myself were there, and he told them about the proposal and what it could mean to the families on the list, and why I thought the proposal had been made in the first place. Everyone wanted to go and tell the families who employed them what it would mean. Some wanted to arrest the Education Minister who made the proposal. Things got ugly pretty quickly, I hadn't realised just how attached some of them had gotten attached to their charges.

"In the end Major Rodriguez had to use his rank to calm things down. He suggested that everyone should take a copy of the list and show it to the people who were on it. He suggested that they should point out what it would mean to that family, and to encourage their partners to use their own vetoes to stop the proposal when it came up for the vote today, rather than just creating a fuss now. He reasoned that if they just kicked up a fuss, the proposal would be withdrawn and replaced by something else just as bad that nobody would be able to do anything about before the vote.

"He also asked them to report back success or failure by yesterday evening in case further action needed to be taken." Jane looked at Marion and Belle. "You understand that, technically, ministerial proposals for Certificates of Exception were none of his business, aside from the small matter of his own partner being on the excluded list. I'm just glad that he could see the stupidity of that particular proposal and had the common sense to attempt to do something about it."

"Truth," Marcus said around a mouthful of salmon. "Bit of surprise, finding a State Security officer with a functioning brain." Jane fixed Marcus with a stare. He grinned. "Present company excepted, of course. Do go on."

"There's not a great deal more to tell. After I'd collected the girls from school I called the Major to find out if there were any further developments. It seemed that at least twelve Ministers and others had vowed to use their veto to defeat the proposal, which means that Marcus wouldn't have to, and that because of that his own proposal would be unlikely to be vetoed. It also seemed that a lot of people were asking questions as to why a properly-vetted citizen like Marion here was being denied residency here for apparently no reason, and that questions about that fact would be asked in the Council. I told Marcus, and he decided to go and talk to the First Minister and tell him the latest developments."

"That's exactly what I did," Marcus took up the story. "I called the First Minister yesterday evening, and used a code word to ask him to see me alone this morning. First thing, I went by car to the Mansion House and managed to get twenty minutes with him, told him everything that had happened. It would change the way that the afternoon meeting needed to be handled, but he said he could work around that to get what he wanted. I left him to go to my office, get some work done before I needed to go to the Guardian Council meeting after lunch. I'd barely gotten a kilometre from the Mansion House when I received an urgent call to return. The car was turned round, and I got back to his office to find the First Minister in a towering rage.

"After I had left, it seems that he had a few minutes to spare before his next appointment and he decided to pull up your files to see what all the fuss was about." He indicated Belle and Marion. "Belle he already knew about, in general terms, because of who she was. Marion's record came as a complete surprise. No-one had told him, myself included, that Marion Hillier had started life as Marlon Hillier. It just didn't occur to me, I suppose, and it didn't seem to be relevant to the current problem. Anyway, that got him into her original case, and that led to Director Pannal and so on. He had known none of this and he was absolutely furious. It appeared that the Justice Secretary had sat on the report I had written about the failures in Marion's case, and just passed it off as a once-off aberration in the system."

Marcus stopped eating and looked at them all, licking his lips, with a concerned expression on his face.

"You have to understand, I had never seen the First Minister in that state before. He's the sort of person who just gets on with everybody, everyone likes him naturally, it's just how he is. I did once see him annoyed, and that wasn't good. I'm glad there was nothing sharp in the room this time, I can tell you. I have never been so frightened in my life, and I was on his side!

"Fortunately, he did calm down quite quickly, and he appreciated that for my part I had done all that I was supposed to. He cleared his diary and we went into another session which lasted until lunch time. I had to tell him in detail everything that had happened in Marion's case. We dug into the case notes and discovered the linked cases, which took us into other areas he should have known about and didn't. One failure was bad enough, here was evidence of at least six! Capping it all he found Proctor Julian's final report describing the so-called systems failure and at that point I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel. It was clear evidence of a long-term plot and he went stamping round his office shouting treason! I just kept out of the way."

Marcus had another go at his dinner, and everyone else took the chance to continue eating. Soon they had finished and the catering staff were called to clear away ready for the dessert course.

"Marcus?" Annelise asked in a low voice as the plates were taken away, "this is going to end well, isn't it?"

"I think so, sweet. For now, at any rate."

Despite the active day Marion had had so far, she discovered that her appetite had gone and she just toyed with her dessert. This whole business had suddenly spiralled out of control to levels she hadn't known existed. She suspected that her quiet existence as a Counsellor in a Female Offender Containment Facility might be coming to an end, possibly in an unpleasant manner.

Marcus continued once the staff had withdrawn again. "Then the First Minister showed just why he is the First Minister. He became cold, calm and collected. There were several different problems which had to be handled and they all needed to be tackled in the Guardian Council meeting. His big problem was who to trust within State Security. He didn't know - and I don't either - if the ID card business was set up by criminal elements or by a rogue section within State Security or even, perhaps, the military. If it was State Security, he couldn't know if it was a rogue operation or worse, a sanctioned one, and it would be impossible to figure out which within the time at his disposal. Because he couldn't trust State Security, it meant that he only had his own detachment to rely on to carry out anything he might need during the afternoon."

"Caesar," muttered Annelise.

"Eh?"

"Caesar, you know, the Praetorian Guard. What did they teach you in school, for goodness sake?"

"What? Oh, yes, I hadn't spotted the parallel. Where was I? Oh, yes. He called the Defence Secretary in. Fortunately, he was available, he called him over on some plausible pretext and he turned up just before lunch. Now Secretary Forden hadn't exactly kept on top of his job or he would have put a stop to what we thought his Army minister had been doing, but he was technically an ally. We carefully explained to him what we thought he needed to know and he named some people we could trust. He then went off to contact them and make sure someone didn't bring about a coup d'etat behind our backs while we were deliberating in the Council."

"You thought there was going to be a coup?" Belle asked in surprise.

"We didn't know what to think at that point, so we had to have our backs covered," Marcus explained. "Paranoia?" He laughed nervously. "You don't know the meaning of the word! After Forden left we made a rough plan of what to do in the meeting then went and had some lunch together. We delayed leaving until just before the meeting started, we didn't want to get diverted along the way to the Assembly Building."

"I think we had better stop there, dear," Annelise said. "Let's finish up here and take our coffees into the living room to continue. That will give me a chance to look in on the girls along the way, and the catering staff can tidy up in here as well."

Desserts finished, they made their way back to the living room and found seats. Two of the catering staff appeared with cups, cream and a big flask of coffee which they left before returning to help the rest clear up and depart. Annelise appeared, closing the door behind her.

"They're both asleep," she said. "Everyone comfortable? Marcus, I'll pour out the coffees if you'll carry on with your tale."

"We got to the Grand Chamber and the First Minister had his detachment go round and throw out all the newsies and other hangers-on we usually get for these meetings," he said. "Normally, the meetings are quite boring, 'all those who say aye', interminable speeches, nit-picking arguments, that kind of thing. Not this time. A few didn't realise that something was going on at first, but you could almost feel the tension in the air. One or two looked as though they wanted to be elsewhere, but the First Minister's detachment stood by all the doors and it was obvious they'd be prevented leaving. In any case, it had been made clear that anyone who did leave before the end of the meeting would forfeit his or her job, and that kept most of them nailed to their seats.

"Instead of conducting the meeting in the usual fashion, the First Minister called for quiet and then started reading out the Education Minister's proposal. There were some calls for the proper procedure to be followed but most people could see he was out for blood and just shut the others up. The Education Minister stood up and tried to justify the proposal on the grounds that it would tidy up some 'minor irregularities' which had been pointed out to him. When the First Minister caustically told him that he hadn't done his homework and that his proposal would result in the eviction of the partners of thirteen Ministers, two High Justiciars and four generals plus twenty-eight children the poor man didn't know what to do with himself. It was obvious that he hadn't done even the simplest level of checking that Jane had done. He did the only thing possible in the circumstances - he resigned on the spot, and was immediately escorted from the room. I and some friends were watching the room closely to see who reacted to this little drama, and we passed on some names to the First Minister.

"Next, he told them that this proposal appeared to be designed to keep Citizen Marion Hillier from partnering Citizen Belle Marchand and thus taking up residence in the Enclave. He had decided to have a look at Citizen Hillier's background, and hadn't liked what he had found. He spelled out in detail what had happened to her, him, to the whole pack of them, all of whom sat and listened in stunned silence. You could have heard the proverbial pin drop. Most of them had seen the news reports at the time of Marion's exoneration, but like most had assumed that the reports were exaggerated as regrettably too many are these days."

Marcus gave a sickly smile. "He made me stand up and tell them exactly what I had discovered, and I told them that at the end I'd made a report and passed it to my boss Bloomfield, the Justice Secretary. Bloomfield tried to make out that the First Minister had misinterpreted the report and that the whole thing was blown up out of proportion. The First Minister asked him if he'd actually read the report and after some huffing and puffing he admitted he hadn't, because he didn't believe that much of what was in it had actually happened. The First Minister sacked him on the spot and had him taken into custody.

"That shook then all up a bit, so he decided to keep up the attack. He was speaking to the whole floor, but he was looking directly at the Army Minister as he did so, and I could see Oudhout squirming. He couldn't raise his eyes to meet those of the First Minister. The First Minister asked what the purpose of keeping these two citizens apart might be. He asked if perhaps someone had decided that they didn't like the partner Citizen Marchand had chosen, and why they thought that they had a better idea of who the daughter of a Founder should partner than she did. He asked if perhaps they disapproved of her partnering another woman, and then pointed out that when Belle had met Marion he was entirely male, and so far as he knew was still capable of fathering children.

"That got a reaction from Oudhout. He stood and said that he hadn't been aware that Citizen Hillier had been male to start with, and that he'd believed Citizen Hillier had been a criminal whom Citizen Marchand had befriended in the course of her job, and that he'd thought that she could have done better for a partner." Marcus grinned. "It then occurred to him that he'd been talked into admitting his part in the plot and he abruptly sat down again. It didn't do him any good, because he was immediately relieved of his post and arrested.

Marcus continued. "There were some voices arguing on the floor, calling for a debate. The First Minister decided to let them have their say. The point being made was that if the State had made the mistakes that the First Minister had just said it did, then ultimately it was all the First Minister's fault for appointing people who couldn't do their jobs, and shouldn't he consider his own position? There was a lot of talk about collective responsibility and rotten apples and everyone could see that the dissenters were leading up to a vote of confidence, so I stood up as arranged and called for one to try and draw their fire.

"The Purists and the Traditionalists voted solidly against, of course. The Conservatives didn't know what to do, about half voted each way. Fortunately the rest supported the First Minister and the vote was carried by almost two thirds. I should note that in these votes no-one is permitted to abstain, you are either for or against, and luckily we got away with it. I wasn't sure until that point whether he'd completely misjudged the mood of the Party or not.

"He spoke to the Council then and said that he respected the fact that some of them held different views to his own, but that as long as he had popular support then he would continue to try to govern in the way that he had originally told them he would when they had elected him First Minister. He then suggested that we'd better carry on and do what the meeting had been called for, namely to approve or reject various Certificates of Exception.

"The first order of business was to make sure that Marion got in, so that's what he did. He read out my proposal and asked if there were any objections. It was obvious that from the way he was speaking, anyone who dared object would be escorted from the room. When he called for Votes For, over half the room raised their hands. All the votes were recorded, so the Certificate of Exception becomes legally valid from that point. My dear," Marcus looked at Marion and smiled, "your struggle is over. You may now officially join Citizen Marchand in residence in the Enclave."

The tears ran down Marion's cheeks, and as she looked at Belle she saw that her partner was just as affected by the news.

"Thank you, Marcus," she said with difficulty. "That's the best news we've heard since, oh, yesterday, I suppose."

"Yesterday? What happened yesterday?" Marcus was temporarily derailed.

"Belle and I were granted unlimited childbearing authority. This is the first opportunity we've had to pass on the news."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Annelise exclaimed. "That's amazing news! Now you're all set, aren't you?"

"I suppose so, thank you. But we're interrupting Marcus, I'm sorry. Do carry on. What happened next?"

"Now I think about it, he was rather clever. Having got his vote of confidence, he then let the ordinary business of the session carry on as normal, which meant that most of them got lulled into a false sense of security. Well, almost normal, I suppose. There were eighteen proposals on the sheet, two had already been dealt with. Four of the rest were withdrawn by their proposers immediately, the First Minister let them get away with that without comment. It's possible those people had second thoughts about just how carefully they had considered their proposals, I don't know. The rest were about all kinds of things. Two got vetoed after discussion, the rest were passed, a couple after amendments. Nothing that doesn't happen normally on these occasions.

"Then, as they were all thinking about getting up and, frankly, running away from the Grand Chamber, the First Minister stood up again and raised his hand for quiet. They looked like a warren of rabbits faced by a stoat. He told them that something much more serious needed to be discussed, and that, as they all just happened to be present, it seemed like a good moment to discuss it. He told them that certain facts about the original case concerning Citizen Hillier hadn't yet been revealed, and that he was about to do so now.

"These concerned the fact that the system fault which had caused the original duplicate ID to be issued was not a one-off aberration, as the former Justice Secretary had maintained, but in fact had been part of a systematic conspiracy to enable person or persons unknown to be able to issue themselves IDs whenever they wanted to. You can bet that the use of the word conspiracy got everyone's attention. The First Minister then turned to the Secretary of State for Homeland Security, Jansen, and asked her in a mild voice how the investigation into this conspiracy was proceeding."

Marcus smirked. "I suppose it's funny now, but it certainly wasn't then. The poor woman had her mouth wide open, she obviously had no idea at all that such a thing was going on. She was smart enough, however, to stand up and admit that this was the first she had heard of it. The First Minister will respect someone who admits their limitations, so for the moment she still has her job. It seems that she is going to conduct a root and branch investigation of her own department to see why this has been happening without anything being brought to her attention." He shrugged. "It's possible it's just got lost in their bureaucracy, after all, I don't know what else State Security has on their plate these days."

"So you're saying that it wasn't a State Security plot, then?" Annelise asked.

Marcus shrugged. "Who knows? It may be running as a Black Op at some lower level for all we know. Jansen wasn't in charge when this all began, it's possible someone just decided not to tell her when she took up the post. At any rate, she stays in the post for now but there's a question mark over her competence."

"For such a critical post as that?" Belle asked. "I would have thought that you'd want someone there you can absolutely trust."

"Truth. But, if you go changing Secretaries at this point, it just gives any conspirators a chance to hide deeper during the changeover chaos. You know how these things work."

"Yes," Marion added. "That was the reason I asked Proctor Julian to sit on the file for a couple of days till the dust settled. Most people know what happens when there's trouble in the Guardian Council."

"You did? We wondered why the file hadn't been sent on to State Security. Oh. Was that the news you had that Annelise wanted us to hear?"

"Yes, Marcus. We weren't to know that the First Minister was going to go digging in my file, but perhaps it's just as well he did. That ensured the report went right to the top where it belonged."

"You're not kidding. Julian has evidence that the tampered fault fix has been there for four years? I can barely believe it myself. The First Minister had to be persuaded that it wasn't some kind of sick joke. When I pointed out to him that I'd met you, and that all the rest of the file was absolutely true so that there was no reason that part wasn't true, that was when he went rampaging around his office." Marcus shuddered. "I never want to have to experience that ever again."

"I've not met him," remarked Belle, "but from what I've seen on videos he always seemed like a calm, friendly figure who everyone seems to like immediately. I can't imagine him losing his temper."

"Can you imagine how I felt? I know him fairly well, and it was something of a shock. Just like having your favourite soppy dog suddenly turn round and bite you, not pleasant at all."

"Let's refresh the coffees before you continue, Marcus," Annelise said. "Do any of you want anything stronger? No?"

"So, the State Security Secretary didn't know," Belle mused. "What about the Ministers under her?"

"That's what I was coming to next," Marcus said. "All of them were present, of course, and Jansen turned round and asked them point blank if any of them had known anything about the matter. Enforcement and Protection wouldn't be expected to know, but Intelligence, Statistics and Investigation should all have turned up something, given that the problem's been there for four years. All three were sacked, arrested and led away. It's a tricky one. We rely on State Security to provide oversight over the government and the community generally. Who provides oversight over State Security? That's something the First Minister has to figure out now, amongst other things."

"I thought the Guardian Council did that," Marion said. "After all, they direct the policy of the Government, don't they?"

Marcus nodded. "Yes, that's so, but in practice the First Minister's Cabinet - that is to say, all his Secretaries and some of the more important Ministers plus the Chief of the Defence Staff handle the day-to-day policy decisions. The normal Guardian Council meetings provide a chance for the Party to review decisions after the fact and direct any adjustments necessary."

"So," asked Belle, "was that the end of it, then? Did they all scuttle out of there with their tails between their legs?"

"Not quite. Everybody now knows about the ID business and it's possible significance." He looked at Marion and Belle. "Everybody now knows about you two. This Guardian Council was unusual, and he will make them keep quiet about those things, but inevitably they're going to leak out sooner or later. He made a closing speech to try and prevent open warfare from breaking out. I can't remember exactly what he said, but for something thought up on the spur of the moment it sounded damn good.

"Something about how everyone says 'The State does not make mistakes', and how that's a good aspiration and the State should not make mistakes. About how that was an unreachable ideal and that the State, the Party and the Government was full of human beings who were inevitably going to make mistakes, and that's what all the laws and regulations were there to protect us from, and that the laws and regulations themselves were created by humans and were not necessarily perfect.

"About how every single person in the State wanted something different, and not to believe that because what you wanted was different to what the State wanted that that automatically made you a bad person. That a Party who all thought exactly the same was as bad as a Party who all thought differently."

Marcus shook his head. "There was a bit more, and I've probably garbled what he said anyway. It seemed to quiet a lot of them down, and they appeared to disperse in an orderly fashion so it might have done some good. I really don't understand how someone can make speeches like that. Annelise will tell you that whenever I've had to think up a speech it's made me sweat blood to get the words right.

"Anyway, that was the end of the session and most of them left, some in a hurry. A few the First Minister asked to stay behind, and he appointed those to fill the gaps in the ranks. Most irregular, since the Guardian Council would normally ratify any appointments, but I think that there wasn't anyone who would dare have objected to his choices today. Barrett got the Army post, Braisse was appointed as Minister for first level Education. O'Neill moved from Transport to State Security along with Bartolli and Jorgenson to fill the gaps, but I gather Jansen wants to shuffle some of the people who were left around, to get the experience where she wants it. Freya DuVerein takes the spot O'Neill left in Transport. You remember her, Annelise, she was in Housing when we were both there."

"Oh, yes, I remember her. Nice enough girl, if a bit stolid. What about the new Justice Secretary, Marcus?" Annelise asked. "You haven't said anything about a replacement for Bloomfield yet."

"The new Justice Secretary?" Marcus beamed, a broad smile that lit up the whole room. "That would be me."

"Why Marcus," Annelise scolded, "All this time and you never said anything! How could you?"

The four women had risen as one and converged on Marcus in order to congratulate him on his promotion. Annelise gave him a good solid hug and a long kiss, Belle got in a hug and a kiss on the cheek, Marion gave him a hug and Jane diffidently approached and shook his hand.

After they separated Marcus said, "I wanted to savour it for an hour or two. I knew what your reaction was going to be anyway. Thank you, friends, for your kind thoughts. I know I have a good team behind me."

His gaze fell on Marion and Belle and they both knew that he had included them in his words, and, furthermore, both recognised that they wanted to be part of his team.

"Well!" Annelise said. "I definitely think this calls for a toast. We need something better than coffee, what would everyone like to drink?"

While Annelise organised alcoholic beverages for all of them Belle asked, "Does your promotion mean that you won't be involved in Marion's latest schemes any more?"

Marcus laughed. "Have no fear of that, my dear. Ever since she started work at your facility, I have had an intercept put on all departmental communications. Anything that has her name on it or in it gets copied to my in-box. The issue of welfare is going to be an important one, and I'm quite happy to let Marion pilot it. If we can get something working, then I want to roll it out to all facilities as soon as we can. I'm hoping it's going to make a big difference, not least to the male facilities, since there are immense problems to be solved in those. The womens' facilities are quite tame by comparison. Ah, thank you, my dear."

Annelise raised her glass. "To the new Secretary of State for Justice," she said. "May his tenure in office be long and successful."

"Hear, hear." The others raised their glasses and drank, and then Marcus raised his in acknowledgement.

"Thank you again, friends. Please be seated." He waited before the women had got comfortable again before continuing. "That's not quite the end of the organisational changes for today." He turned to Jane. "Lieutenant Sievert."

Surprised by the mode of address, Jane sat up straight, just avoiding slopping her drink.

"Yes, Citizen Minister, ah, Citizen Secretary?"

"With the agreement of Secretary Jansen, you have been made up from Second Lieutenant to full Lieutenant in State Security as from today. Our thanks for the work you did yesterday have been noted on your file." Jane nodded. "While you have been promoted, you'll retain your existing position here. As a Secretary of State I now qualify for a permanent escort, and as you know how the family works I decided that you were the best person to run the escort for me."

"Thank you, Citizen Secretary."

"I want you to continue providing the services you did before to Annelise and the girls, as well as running the escort, if you think that's within your capabilities. You'll be able to select a Sergeant and six Troopers from the Enclave's non-uniformed complement to provide my escort. What do you think?"

Jane considered, then nodded. "Yes, Citizen Secretary. I'll have a free hand in choosing your escort? What will Major Rodriguez say?"

Marcus grinned. "Major Rodriguez is now Lieutenant-Colonel Rodriguez, though he doesn't know it yet, he'll find out tomorrow. The bump is partly because of his good sense yesterday. Like you he remains doing the same job he was previously. He'll be fine with it, new instructions will be issued from on high to cover the upheaval today's events will have caused, and the threat level has been raised because of the ID business so it justifies his raise in rank."

"I'd forgotten," Annelise said. "All those removals vans again. Those poor families uprooted and sent heavens knows where."

"Yes, it won't be pleasant, especially for those who have had someone arrested." Marcus shrugged. "It's the old story, isn't it? 'If you can't do the time, don't do the crime'."

"So I suppose you'll have to go off tomorrow morning and organise your new Department," Annelise said. "Does this mean that I'm not going to see as much of you in future?"

"Not if I can help it," he replied. "I have a good idea already how I'm going to reorganise, and I know just the people to put into place to keep things humming along, leaving me to handle overall policy. I plan to be here just as often as before, once the initial legwork has been done."

Marion sat and sipped her drink. The situation had changed completely in the last day, and the future was going to be different to what she had previously expected. Plots had been exposed, Ministers sacked, citizens arrested, government changed. Even her own job had been enlarged today. No, she thought, some good things have come out of this. We have childbearing permission, the residency has been sorted out, and with the First Minister behind us it's likely to stay that way. There's just one thing left to do, a formality, something I've had to put off till now. There's no reason to put it off any longer, is there? And what better place and time to do it, here amongst friends?

Marion turned to look at Belle, who was listening to what Marcus was telling Annelise.

"Hortense."

Belle's head snapped round to stare at Marion. The action caused the others to stop talking and look curiously at Marion. Probably none of them had realised what Belle's full name actually was.

"Hortense Fleurette Isabelle Marchand, I Offer Commitment," Marion said carefully.

The blood drained completely from Belle's face, the surprise complete. Whatever Belle had expected her to say tonight, that wasn't it. Realisation swiftly dawned that all the impediments to any legal relationship had been removed, and Belle launched herself out of her chair at Marion, her face now alight.

"I ACCEPT! IacceptIacceptIacceptIaccept! Yesyesyes!"

Belle flung herself on Marion, and they became a tangle in Marion's armchair. Belle grabbed Marion's face and started kissing it like the world was about to end. The others watched in unconcealed delight. Finally Belle noticed that they had an audience and pulled herself up, trying to straighten her clothing as she stood.

With a broad grin, Marcus said, "Heard and witnessed!"

"Heard and witnessed!" echoed Annelise.

Jane gave a big smile. "Heard and witnessed!"

"It took me a moment to put two and two together," added Annelise. "Of course, now the residency problem has been beaten to death and you just told us about the childbearing permission, there's no reason you shouldn't go ahead, is there? I think another toast is in order. The happy couple."

"The happy couple!"

So, of course, they had to tell Marcus, Annelise and Jane about what Sophia had said, and that they had an unlimited permission, and that it was possible Marion might be able to suckle their children. They had to say that they had only learned these facts yesterday and that they hadn't even had time to talk about it between themselves yet, and promptly got invited over for another dinner next week to talk families.

"Do you want to register your commitment right away?" Marcus asked. "We can do it in the office if you wish."

"Can we do that, Marcus?" Belle asked. "I thought you needed a lawyer or a notary to register something like that."

"Ah, you forget, I'm the Secretary of State for Justice. All those legal types work for me. If I can't register something like that, I don't know who can. If I do the registration, then we have two witnesses here, so I think it'll be all legal. Like to go and try it out?"

Of course, it wasn't quite that simple. Marcus had to make some calls to find out where the forms he wanted were located, and how to retrieve them with the right kind of authority. Eventually they went through the process, repeatedly inserting and removing cards to verify the Registrar, the Partners Committing and the Witnesses, and then Marcus said, "That's it. You're done. You are now officially, in the eyes of the State, registered as a Committed Partnership."

Because they were all standing in Marcus's office, it was easy for Marion to take Belle in her arms and give her a proper, heartfelt kiss to seal the moment. The others watched, all smiles, before they all returned to the living room for another toast.

*****

"I think," Belle said as she climbed into bed beside Marion, "that I quite fancy the idea of becoming a wife."

"It's just as well these apartments don't have pickups installed," Marion observed. "What brought that on? I thought the whole idea was that relationships were supposed to be equal now. No more husbands and wives. If you become a wife, what does that make me?"

"Um, that's a tricky one, isn't it?" Belle snuggled into Marion's arms. "You can be whichever you want, as the fancy takes you, I suppose. I was just amusing myself daydreaming before as I undressed. I suppose you're technically a husband, since you're still legally male. I could have been Mrs Belle Hillier, couldn't I? What's wrong with that? I think some of these discrimination laws are just plain daft."

"Daft or not, they're still the law of the land, so we have to put up with them. So, Mrs Hillier, you want to have a proper, public, commitment ceremony then?"

"Ah, I'm not so sure about that. I mean, yes, I'd really like a ceremony -"

"Let me guess. The white dress?"

"Oh, yes, of course! It's what every girl dreams of! But I was saying, for me, a public ceremony might be awkward just at the moment, what with being the daughter of a Founder and all. Especially if the details about us leak out."

There was silence, then, as they kissed and enjoyed the touch of one another's bodies.

"Does it feel different to you?" Belle said then. "It's silly, because all we did was push cards into a slot and press our thumbs on a pad, but I feel different now. We've made it, and we can begin to plan the rest of our lives together now. Even being in bed together like this seems different somehow."

"You're right, it does," Marion murmured.

We have made it, haven't we? We have had people I never imagined rallying around us, fixing our problems for us. Some of them are good friends now, people I never expected to even know. We have even had the First Minister helping us through! I know he's supposed to be an easy man to get on with, but I bet he has his own reasons for helping us today. Still, that's something to be faced in the future. For now, I have a partner, someone special who's been supporting me since the very start, someone to look after, someone who's going to bear my children, someone who I have come to love dearly. I have a place to live, somewhere I wouldn't even have been able to look in through the gates in a previous existence. I have a new job, with new staff and a new office, in a place I feel comfortable in. Life looks good right now.

"Hey! What's this?"

"That's part of my body, as you very well know. Mind what you do with those fingers."

"I thought that, with those pills Sophia gave you, that you weren't supposed to be able to do that any more."

"Give me a chance, will you? I only got given them yesterday afternoon, remember, and I didn't take one last night because we were so tired when we came back from shopping. I took the first one just now when I was brushing my teeth."

"So, this is still functional? Would you mind very much..?"

Marion kissed Belle tenderly. "Of course not, darling. It's the first night we are officially together, it would be appropriate, somehow. Just don't expect it for much longer. Tonight, we can do things the old-fashioned way, and I won't mind at all."