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."

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.

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."

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.

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.

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).

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.