After the trainee Shepherds tour the facility, Marion finally learns what happened at the accommodation block and remembers someone who might be able to help her residency problem.

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

In the morning Belle seemed to have recovered from the fears of the previous evening and Marion said as much as they ate breakfast.

"Yes," Belle said. "I shouldn't have allowed it to affect me so personally. It's just stupid bureaucracy, after all, I've been fighting that all my life. We'll figure out a way, we always do. I'll have a word with Talya as you suggested."

But Marion could see that Belle was still disturbed, even though she was trying to make light of the situation. They caught the tram in, and Marion caught sight of Elena in the locker room when they were changing. She went over and had a quiet word with her about Belle, without describing the entire situation. Then she hurried off to the meeting room where the other trainee Shepherds were meeting.

"Service, citizens, please sit down," said Parkes. "This morning we are going to take a tour of the facility, so that you can become familiar with the layout and how each department fits in. But before we do that, I have a couple of things to mention.

"Firstly, your performance yesterday afternoon in the gym was not very good, and we will have to take some action to remedy that. Some of you haven't used those skills for some years, and it shows. Some of the holds and throws did not allow for bodies of different sizes with varying weight distributions. Some of you are just plain unfit. When you all did national service, those you were with were all of about the same age and fitness, however, the population in a facility is of different ages, builds and fitness to what you may have become used to. We need to remedy that.

"Secondly, I was as surprised as some of you were by the presence of Counsellor Hillier in our group yesterday, partly on account of her unusual uniform. Hers is a new, experimental appointment, and if successful we will start seeing Counsellors in all facilities. I will ask her to come forward and briefly explain what she is and how her position functions."

Marion stepped to the front and, without mentioning her detention, briefly explained what her job entailed. There were a few questions, mostly answered without difficulty, and she sat down again. Parkes then used a projector to display the layout of the H-shaped building, explaining the peculiar floor lettering system. Once everyone said that they were familiar with the arrangement, she led the way out of the room and down to the ground floor.

"I know some of you are familiar with the layout of these buildings, or at least partly so, since some of you started here before this course began. I hope you'll bear with me as I go through my explanations. I would guess that there are parts of the building none of you will have been to, so you should all learn something," Parkes said.

The group murmured agreement, and she led them to the front of the building.

"We're on A Deck now, as you'd expect. The wing over to my left is also A Deck. Along there you will find the visiting areas. These consist of two large rooms where detainees who have the privilege can meet with any relatives or friends who are permitted to come, heavily supervised of course. There are two small suites as well, for the rare cases where a detainee is allowed intimate privilege with her partner. This is usually reserved for certain detainees with life sentences. Unlike in male facilities, the female partner is not permitted to bear children in these cases. Beyond those the whole floor is a gym for use by detainees on a rotation basis.

"On the other side of the entrance, this becomes F Deck. The whole of F Deck is the kitchen area for everyone in the building with the exception of those who use the Staff Canteen. Shall we go in?"

The group went through the double gate and past the lift shafts into a long open area full of people busily working. Most were wearing trusty brown but there were a small number of Shepherds and also some women wearing Chef's Whites. There was a considerable amount of noise and it was hot and humid.

"Serena," Parkes shouted to one of the group. "You'll probably be working in here when you've completed the course with me."

"Yes, Instructor," the woman replied, "I got shown in here the first day I came. I come from the Army Catering Corps, this looks all quite familiar to me."

"Shall we leave?" asked Parkes. "It's a little too noisy in here to talk comfortably."

Outside again she continued. "The kitchen provides breakfast, lunch and evening meal for all detainees and for most Shepherds and other staff who have to eat at their posts. The staff and trusties who run the kitchen also have to eat, but of course they can't eat at the same time as everyone else. This means that there's someone cooking something in the kitchen from about six in the morning to well after seven at night. Both staff and trusties have their own shift system which doesn't coincide with the standard hours most others here work to. A high proportion of the trusties here go on to jobs in the catering trade after being released."

She turned round and faced the main block.

"Right? Now, on to the main building. On your right is Reception, this is for staff and visitors. Detainees arrive by a rear entrance. Behind Reception are some rooms which get used for meetings, and these are also where detainees can consult with their legal representatives when face-to-face discussions are necessary. On your left are the Shepherds' locker room, the Staff Canteen and the second Shepherds' locker room. You know all about the locker rooms, of course, and I think you're all currently using the Canteen, am I right?"

There was a chorus of agreement accompanied by nods. Parkes led the way through A Deck to the rear. She turned off to the left at the end, bringing them into Stores.

"This is K Deck, and consists entirely of Stores. Service," she added to the woman behind the counter, explaining, "I'm Instructor Parkes, I'm taking the Shepherd training course and I'm just showing the current intake around, if that's acceptable."

"Service, Instructor. Of course, go ahead." Miranda gestured at the door at the end of the counter. "I don't think you'll get in the way of anything if you go through the department now." Miranda spotted Marion. "Service, Marion. How are things? How's Belle's hand?"

"Service, Miranda. Er, she's fine, thanks, I don't think we'd better hold up the Instructor, I'll drop by later."

This last exchange was observed with interest by the others in the group. Parkes led them through the doors into Stores proper. They entered a room which had floor-to-ceiling shelving packed with grey plastic crates Marion knew well. She guessed that the counter where she had originally been received was on the other side of the shelving.

"This is a holding area for all the belongings which a detainee has on them when they arrive, and anything else that arrives for them subsequently that they are not permitted while detained," explained Parkes.

She led them through another set of doors into a further cavern, this time filled with mesh shelving and rows upon rows of wardrobe rails, all filled with detainee clothing of every description. At the far end could be seen rails with grey Shepherd uniforms as well.

"I'll show you the machines that make the clothes in a minute, but it's not the policy of the State to manufacture fresh clothing for every new detainee, and detainees clothing requirements can change all the time according to what they are doing, how well they are eating, any long-term ailments, and, of course, the time of the month." Some of the group nodded. "So clothing not allocated to a specific person is kept here assuming that it's in good enough condition." She looked at the group. "Underwear is never reused, though, in case you're concerned. Shepherd's clothing generally isn't either, but some may be kept depending on circumstances." She indicated Marion. "I guess that the Counsellor's outfits aren't going to be passed on any time soon, though."

"Possibly, possibly not," Marion demurred. "I may end up with assistants here, my job is really too big for one person alone. And I feel I should warn you that there are others working here who feel that they would prefer a dress to shirt and trousers. I've had a number of enquiries." Several of the group suddenly acquired interested expressions, but Marion shook her head. "Sorry, no, I don't think anyone who works on the Decks other than my speciality is going to be allowed dresses. We'll have to see how my own experience pans out."

Parkes continued. "Everything in the facility is chipped, and that includes all clothing. That means that when you send it to be cleaned in the laundry, which will be our next department, it can find it's way back to you. So, on to the big machines." She pushed through the next pair of doors and revealed two immense machines which filled the far end of the Deck. These were familiar to Marion, since there had been similar machines in the factory where Marlon had worked. These could be used to fabricate almost anything non-metallic. Metal parts could be incorporated into items made by the machines but had to be manufactured using traditional methods. When everyone had followed Parkes and gathered round, she resumed.

"You don't have to worry about these machines, they just do their job and we use the things they create. This one on the left makes all the fabric clothing, according to computer patterns provided. With the exception of zip closures, it weaves entire garments at once without seams, in colours which define grades of detainee, and for staff, provides indicators of grade and department." She tapped the black sleeve cuff of the Shepherd standing closest to her.

"The other machine makes non-fabric items, for example the slippers worn by detainees, the shoes you're all wearing, and the utensils, cups, plates and trays used by the kitchens. That machine can also be used to make other items when necessary, for example to repair equipment damaged on the Decks."

"Instructor," one of the group asked, "what about electrical items?"

"Things like that, and computer equipment, your cuffs and weapons, are provided from a central factory and supplied on request to each facility. Stores keeps a supply of spares, naturally, but these machines don't make items like that - although it may be possible the one on the right could be so programmed if you knew what you were doing. I wouldn't know things like that, sorry."

She led the way out through a pair of doors on the other side of the Deck, and they ended up in the room with the clothes rails, but on the other side. Against the walls were some industrial machines, and they watched as a trusty used one of them to deftly insert a zip into the back opening of a pink detainee's dress and weld it into place.

"As you can see, some items need finishing, and that's all handled here. Occasionally, very occasionally, clothing can also be repaired here, although it can never be as strong as the original, so that's usually discouraged."

"I thought the clothing here was impossible to tear?" someone asked. "How is that possible, then?"

"Ah, well, you can't tear the fabric, it's true, but it will abrade over time, and if there's a sharp edge somewhere, the material can be parted if you're determined enough."

Through the next pair of doors, and Marion was in a familiar place.

"This is where detainees come to have clothing issued or replaced," Parkes said. Miranda was there and she explained how clothing got tagged and assigned. At the far end of the counter was the little room where Marion had been laser-measured. Of course, everyone in the group had used the room to be fitted for their uniforms, so they were familiar with it. Parkes led them out of Stores and into a covered area at the back of the facility. One wall consisted of roller shutters, with a pair of small doors to either side.

"This is where stores are delivered, and also where detainees arrive and depart. They're usually held here, each with a Site Security Shepherd, until Stores can process them one by one. Follow me through to P Deck, which is the laundry."

This Deck was also hot and steamy. It was full of trusties loading and emptying machines, and sorting items of clothing both dirty and clean.

"Every detention room has a chute leading to a basement collection system which delivers clothing to the far end of this Deck. Much of the cleaning process can't be automated that much so trusties are used extensively as you can see. Clean clothing can be returned to a detainee, released back to Stores, condemned if too worn or damaged, or in the case of staff, they can be put into a tagged sports bag and left on top of the appropriate locker."

As they made their way back into the loading bay, they discovered that a consignment of detainees had arrived and was being unloaded at that moment. One of them gave a despairing scream and broke free of the Shepherd controlling her, running towards the group, cuffed hands in front of her, hair flying behind. Noticing Marion, she changed direction and headed for her. The Shepherds behind her had their wands out in an instant, but couldn't use them for fear of hitting the group.

"Help me!" she cried. "I'm innocent! It's all been a mistake! I'm not supposed to be here!"

She cannoned into Marion, her expression at once frightened and desperate. Marion held on to her as the others in her group backed away. Two of the free Site Security Shepherds advanced towards Marion to retrieve their runaway. Marion held up a hand.

"Give me a minute," she said.

The Shepherds halted uncertainly. Although word of Marion's position and appearance had gone round the building, not all the staff had yet encountered her, and they were not sure what to do about a woman in a grey dress. They stopped, but kept their wands at the ready.

"You're safe here," she said to the woman quietly. "I don't know if you're really guilty or innocent, but whether you are or not, you'll be looked after properly here, I can assure you. It so happens that from time to time innocent people are sent here, I know that from personal experience." The woman looked at her with disbelief. "It's true," Marion confirmed with a nod. "Now, once you arrive here your case gets automatically put into appeal status, so the system will consider everything you have to say most carefully." They didn't in my case, but mine was exceptional. Wasn't it? "These people are called Shepherds, and they're called that because their job is to look after you while you're here, guide you and keep you safe. I want you to go with the Shepherd, and she'll look after you. You'll be put in a room of your own to start with, so you won't be subject to bullying or pressure or any of that. Can you do that for me?"

The woman licked her lips, and raised her cuffed hands to wipe the tears from her face.

"Who, who are you? You're not like them, are you?" she asked.

"No, I'm not. My name is Marion, and I'm Counsellor for this facility. Once you're settled in, I'll come and find you. It may take a few days, but I will, I promise. Then we can talk about your case in private."

"I - I will, Counsellor. This is all frightening, I've never been in such a place before."

"No, I know. What's your name, citizen?"

"Jeanette Sutton, Counsellor."

"Well, Citizen Sutton, the trick with the State is not to try and struggle against it because it will always win. What we have to do is to work within the system. There's almost always a way."

"Yes, Counsellor. But I don't even know why I'm here! It's all so confusing."

"I know, I know. Now, what's done is done. You're here. You'll have to go into the system before they let you out again. Let them process you, and then you'll find you have time to make your case. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Counsellor." The woman straightened and wiped her face again.

Marion raised one arm to the Shepherd who had let Citizen Sutton get away.

"You can come and retrieve your charge, Shepherd."

The other Shepherds lowered their wands. As the woman approached, Sutton turned and waited.

"Treat her with respect, Shepherd. She's still a citizen, and sometimes the State does make mistakes."

"Yes, Counsellor. Come and stand with me, citizen."

"I apologize for running away... Shepherd," the woman said. "I was frightened, I've never been in such a place before."

Both the Site Security Shepherds collecting detainees and those in Marion's group regarded her with respect. The situation could have become unpleasant, with a detainee stunned in front of the others or dragged away in hysterics, but Marion had defused the problem with a few softly spoken words. Instructor Parkes led her group out of the loading bay.

"I'm impressed, Counsellor," she said as they headed for one of the lifts. "You handled that very easily."

"It could have got out of hand if I hadn't," Marion replied. "The Shepherds there could have been a little more sensitive, though. It's tricky, I suppose, because until the detainees actually get off the transport they have no idea what they might be facing."

"Counsellor?" one of the group asked. "Do you think that citizen was innocent? The courts don't make mistakes like that, surely?"

"Not usually, no," Marion replied as they squeezed into the lift. "It has been said that every detainee who comes through the door maintains their innocence, and of course most times they are trying it on. But in a very few cases it may be true. It certainly was in my case."

The whole group gaped at Marion. Parkes looked apprehensive as she knew how sensitive Marion's case was. Marion waved a hand in dismissal.

"I'm not going to detail my own experiences to you now, especially as a substantial amount is confidential. However, knowing this place, I'm sure you'll have most of the story before the end of the week from other sources. Back to your original question, yes, I suspect that in this case the poor woman was innocent. Unless she was a very good actress, she had no idea what was going on at all, not even what she was supposed to be convicted of."

"That's possible, surely?" someone asked. "You can fall foul of laws or regulations you don't even know exist."

"Truth. But usually, you get that explained to you when you're arrested. Assuming you got arrested, of course." There were a few startled looks at that last comment.

The group spilled out of the lift onto B Deck. Parkes waved her hand vaguely.

"You know about this Deck, mostly. On your left are the training rooms we are using. These can also be used for group meetings by staff when required. Over the other side is the Staff Gym. For most of you, you'll probably struggle to find time to use it, because the shift hours are quite long. At the rear there are offices, those on the left used by Stores, those on the right used by Facility Services. Facility Services handles heat, light, power, air conditioning, fresh and waste water and building maintenance. At that end on the left is B Deck wing, which is where a large number of normal detainees are housed. On the right is G Deck, where the kitchen trusties are housed. Behind us, Q Deck where the laundry trusties live and L Deck, another wing full of normal detainees." She paused.

"I need to tell you that B Deck and L Deck are the two worst places to work in the facility. There are other awkward Decks, but those two have more than twice as many women crammed into the space and there are all kinds of factions and cliques competing in there. It isn't pretty. Normally, the Deck Shepherds among you will serve on other levels until you gain experience before you're considered for duty down here. Site Security has most to do with B and L Decks when they are outside in the exercise yards. The others of you, keep away unless you have a specific need, and even then you should only consider coming here with an escort."

"We've heard stories," someone said nervously, "Are they really that bad?"

"It depends on who's in at the time, of course," Parkes replied. "It's never very good, though. If we get any really bad influences here they can get sent to a solitary wing to cool off, sometimes they're even shipped off to other facilities to break up gangs. Doesn't always work."

They re-entered the lift and went up another level. The arrangement of offices and rooms up here was somewhat different.

"C Deck is all Site Security. On that side are two rooms where trained staff monitor all the pickups in the facility. We'll have a look in a minute. Every room in the facility has at least one video pick-up, and some have more. The staff here also monitor the streets and spaces around the facility and also some of the buildings connected to it, where some of you live, and where released detainees also live. Everything is recorded, and all recordings are kept for forty-eight hours. Obviously if something happens the recordings will be kept for as long as required. On the other side are the Site Security admin offices. You'll notice a room at each end, these are Ready Rooms for Site Security Shepherds when they are not actually on duty. If you remember your national service days, think Guard Room." Several of the group nodded.

"Right. If we go out through this side corridor, we'll come -"

Parkes opened the door at the end onto a wide balcony running around three sides of the space enclosed by the main block and the wing on either side. The fourth side consisted of a high wall which reached up to the balcony level, half the total height of the facility building. In the square space thus enclosed was one of the exercise yards. Marion supposed that there was a similar arrangement on the other side of the building. She realised that she was in fact standing on the roof of part of B Deck, and that B Deck and the other Decks at the same level or lower must be wider than the Decks above them.

Below, a large number of pink-clad detainees milled around, some walking, some playing various games, some just standing in groups. At one point a caged stairway led up to B Deck level so that detainees could directly access the exercise area without having to go through other parts of the facility. Marion remembered that the other side at the equivalent level contained trusties who could presumably access the yard using the normal routes. Around the balcony, a number of Shepherds watched the activity below, all armed with what looked like powerful stun rifles. At each corner of the balcony was a covered watch post with a searchlight mounted on top.

"This is where detainees come to get fresh air, daylight and a little ad-hoc exercise," explained Parkes. "Each Deck is allowed a certain time here on it's own, no two Decks are allowed to mingle. It works out to about three times a week each, for either a morning or afternoon. Obviously, no-one is allowed out if the weather is bad."

"Is there much trouble out here?" one of the group asked.

"Not usually. It's far too easy for the Shepherds to spot any funny business out here, so the detainees tend to be fairly casual when they're in plain view. Inside it might be a different matter."

Of course, at that moment there was a commotion at one of the small gatherings below, a shriek, and a detainee ran out pursued by two others. One of the observing Shepherds hit a hooter which attracted everyone's attention, but the two pursuers didn't stop. Someone on the balcony aimed a rifle at the leading pursuer and fired, causing her to jerk to a stop and stagger. The other woman raised her fist and shouted insults at the balcony, then helped her mate back to the group. The detainee they had chased reached the far wall and hid behind another group nearby. This second group ignored her completely.

"I did use the word 'usually'," Parkes said dryly. "The Shepherds will make sure that nothing really serious happens to that detainee, but you're bound to get disagreements when you keep this number of women cooped up together."

"Instructor? Those guns. The woman who they shot at didn't even fall over. I thought those guns were more powerful than that."

"Yes..." Parkes began to answer, but changed tack. "How many of you here have experience with stun weapons?"

The only person who put up a hand was the Medical Orderly. Parkes gave a wry smile at the irony.

"Wanda? You want to explain?"

"Yes, Instructor. The weapons are much more powerful, leastways the ones I used were, but you keep the power turned well down unless the situation gets desperate. All you want to do is just discourage people from doing something. Also, when you turn the power up, the beam gets wider."

"Exactly. If you have a group to stop, you might need a wider beam, but if it's just one person, then you need to be able to pinpoint them. If that detainee hadn't stopped, the Shepherd would probably have turned up the power, but the detainee would have known that. All right. If you're all wondering just why the detainee stopped, you'll get your chance to find out tomorrow afternoon when we give you first-hand experience of what a stun wand can do."

There were some worried faces in the group.

"Is that really necessary?" asked one.

"It is," was the reply as Parkes led the group into C Deck again. "The basic tenet of a Shepherd's job is that she does not have to use a weapon in order to encourage a detainee to do what is required. She should instead be using her voice and her attitude instead, in other words psychological means. The weapons you have been issued are just there to make sure that unusual situations can be contained, because in a place like this it is inevitable that there will be people who resist persuasion. We insist that every person who works in a facility understands what the effects of those weapons are, and that is usually sufficient to prevent gratuitous use. Don't get too concerned, citizens, it all happens under controlled conditions and medical staff will be present in case of an unusual reaction."

As they walked towards one of the sets of lifts four people came out of one of the offices towards them. The person in front nodded to Parkes and then spotted Marion as they passed.

"Counsellor! I'm glad I noticed you, a quick word if I may. With your permission, Instructor?"

Parkes nodded and the whole group halted.

"This is Director Khiskov. She is in charge of Site Security," she explained for the benefit of the group.

"We've finished our investigation of your accommodation block," Khiskov said. "It occurred to me that we could allow staff back in to collect belongings before we began the refurbishment. Can you come to my office when you've finished your course?"

"Certainly, Director. That will be around five, I expect."

Khiskov nodded. "Good, I'll see you at five, then."

As Khiskov led her staff off Parkes asked, "Accommodation block? You had further trouble?"

"Yes," Marion replied, "Although that happened after..." She stopped, abruptly aware that at least nine pairs of ears were waiting to hear after what. She continued, "...after I started here as Counsellor," she finished lamely. "Oh. That's another complicated story I probably can't tell anyone. Sorry."

Marion noticed the disappointed expressions and decided that they would probably find out all they needed to know via the bush telegraph. She shrugged. Parkes led the way to the lifts and they went up another floor.

"This is D Deck, and all of D Deck is Sick Bay. The main Deck is offices, examination rooms, treatment rooms and an operating theatre. Sick Bay can handle most injuries and other illnesses which can happen to a detainee. Only the most serious cases need to be transferred to specialist care. Oh, that includes childbirth, although pregnant detainees are usually transferred to the Mother and Baby unit in Facility Three at six months.

"Since staff spend so much of their time here, Sick Bay also cares for them, if they should wish it to. Any medical problem you may have, you can take it to the Sick Bay doctors and they will sort you out. That also, incidentally, includes dental and optical work. I don't think this facility has a full-time dentist or optician, but there are a group of specialists who do the rounds of the facilities and can appear when needed.

"D Deck wing over to your left is where patients are held. It's arranged more like a hospital ward than a facility Deck, but the patients in there are not very mobile so looking after them is no problem. The Shepherds have nursing training as well as facility training so are more specialised than most.

"I Deck is also part of Sick Bay, it's where drug addicts are kept. It's laid out more like a standard detention Deck but again, the Shepherds have specialised training. Behind us, N Deck and S Deck are in theory normal detention Decks but I happen to know that S Deck contains some detainees from Sick Bay who are convalescing before being returned to their original allocations.

Once more Parkes led them up to the next floor.

"This Deck is where the main management offices are, and where most of the building administration is done. The wings at each end hold detainees, though. E Deck is reserved for special cases. This can include citizens with psychological problems, suicide risks and those at special risk from other detainees, for example former law enforcement officials. J Deck opposite is where new arrivals are kept. When a detainee is first inducted into the facility she is placed on J Deck for up to a month. This is to ensure that she doesn't have any disease or infestation that could affect others in the facility, to enable any physical or psychological evaluation to be done and also to give her time to adjust to her new life if she's never been in a facility before. That's where those detainees we encountered in the loading dock will end up.

"O Deck at the other end is where life detainees are quartered. They are permitted slightly better conditions than other Decks because of their circumstances. T Deck opposite is used for solitary punishments when they are needed, for example to cool someone off after a fight and can also be used as an overflow area if other Decks are full. All the detainee rooms at this level are single rooms, by the way.

"Right. I think we'd better make our way downstairs to the canteen as it's nearly lunchtime. If you have any questions you'd like to ask, you can ask over lunch or when we reconvene afterwards. We'll do an hour or so in the training room, and then we'll go to the gym and try and work out some of yesterday's problems."

*****

I'm not trying to win a competition, she thought. Just get the woman on her back! If she's that heavy, I ought to be able to... Marion moved forwards and at the last moment shifted to her right, away from the place her opponent expected her to make her hold. Leaning, Marion grabbed her opponent's upper arm and levered, using her own body as a counterweight. Her massive opponent grunted and sailed through the air to land on the mat behind Marion. The two rolled and came to their feet, turning to face one another.

"That was good," said Ruth, Marion's two-metre tall opponent. "It's been a long time since anyone's managed that move on me."

"Thank you. I didn't hurt you, did I?" Marion asked. "I had to move so far to the side I wasn't sure."

"No," said Instructor Parkes, "You did that exactly right. You understand now," she said to the semicircle of watching Shepherds, "the point is to get your opponent on the floor. You don't have to be pretty about it, you're not going to win any awards. Let's move on to the next position, then. Two more of you to try it?"

After an hour, Parkes stopped their practising.

"Thank you citizens, I think that's enough. Now, have any of you done service in special forces? No, don't tell me anything, just raise your hands. Two of you. Now those two will know what I'm going to teach you next, and that is something that's not taught to those who just do national service. You've all done all the standard combat moves, and you now all understand how to check an opponent who has a different size or shape to normal." She smiled at the towering Ruth.

"Unfortunately, every one of the detainees inside these walls, or almost everyone, has been through the same training you have, so they all, in principle anyway, know how to handle the same combat moves. What I am about to teach you are ways in which you can defeat those moves. Some of these countermeasures are sneaky, some are painful, and a significant number of them are just plain dangerous. These new techniques are taught to all special services personnel. Can I have two of you out here for the first demonstration, please?"

*****

"Service, Director?"

"Ah, Counsellor, come in and take a seat, I won't be a second."

Marion seated herself in Donna Khiskov's office and waited until the Site Security Director finished what she was doing and shut her terminal down.

"Good! That's a relief, I was afraid I was never going to get to the end of it," she said. Giving Marion a smile, she continued.

"My reason for asking you here was ostensibly to tell you that we've finished the investigation of your accommodation block. It was necessary to widen the scope of the investigation to include the other blocks and the surrounding area, but we could do that without so much disruption. That's why it's all taken so long. Now we're finished, it occurred to me that we could allow residents in to collect the rest of their belongings before we start to refurbish the block. That is planned to begin tomorrow."

"Thank you, Director. Does this mean that you want me to clear my apartment today?"

Khiskov nodded. "Yes, please. You'll have to be accompanied, and of course you might observe things which ordinarily you wouldn't expect to see. Given your own record, I have no reason to think you're likely to be indiscreet in the future about anything you see in there."

"Yes, Director. It seems I've learned more secrets since I came here than I ever managed before. You can rely on me."

"We do! And you do realise that your security clearance has been raised? That's partly due to your current residence in the Enclave, of course, but I would like to think that you would have had the raise even if you hadn't moved."

"Thank you Director. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, it's only what you're due for a job you're doing well. Now, the other reason I asked you here was to tell you, off the record, what we found over there. I recognise that you and Shepherd Marchand, amongst many others, will be interested in what was going on, so I've decided to give you the details and let you gently disseminate the information in the usual fashion around the facility."

"Director! Are you asking me to feed the bush telegraph? Deliberately?"

"Well, if you put it that way, yes. Just don't go into any heavy details, and we should be all right. A few words from someone who knows the actual truth should dispel some of the chinese whispers I've been hearing recently." Khiskov rolled her eyes. "You have no idea. Some of them even include you."

Marion boggled over the apparent contradiction of a raised security clearance coupled with instructions to leak secrets, but the Director was still speaking.

"Supervisor Hirsch only had an average reputation when he came here from Male Offender Containment Facility Seven, where he held a similar post. He did keep his nose clean for a while, but the lure of vulnerable freshly-released women detainees was too much for him. One day a detainee refused to do his bidding, and he had a serious argument with her. I don't think there was anything much physical, he just tried to overawe her."

Marion nodded, she could easily imagine how it had gone.

"The following day she cleared out of the block and disappeared, probably back to one of the sink estates where she had come from. What surprised Hirsch was that she didn't officially transfer out of the block. He only realised this when the allowance for her kept coming."

Marion raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, you don't know. Block Supervisors get an allowance for everyone who lives there, to cover heat, light, cleaning, waste disposal, maintenance and so on," Khiskov explained. "There's a much smaller allowance for empty apartments. Anyway, Hirsch realised that if he didn't report that the detainee had gone, and the detainee didn't notify anyone that she had moved out, he could continue claiming the cash. Very soon, he was tempted to try the trick again, and suddenly he had a grey income he could use to satisfy his various needs.

"After a while he realised that the system for the block would record comings and goings, and so he found someone, an ex-detainee, who could fix the computers so that as far as the State was concerned, meaning principally us here in the facility, the block looked normal. Then he realised that the block was still monitored, and he found someone who could disconnect the pickups. This took cash, and so he decided to let out some of his vacated apartments to citizens who could not legally reside anywhere, and would pay for the privilege. So, everything snowballed. With undesirables here, he had to protect them from being seen coming and going, so the outside pickups went as well. With illegals residing in the block, he couldn't organise any major refurbishments, and he was skimping on the normal maintenance as well. I was quite shocked when I saw the state of the place."

"And the only reason he didn't get away with it," Marion mused, "was because I went there accompanied by a Shepherd. If I'd been by myself, I doubt whether anything would have been done."

Khiskov nodded. "You're so right. We - the facility board, that is - have changed the procedure slightly since this came to light, and we now insist that every detainee is accompanied by a member of staff when they first leave here and go to live in one of the blocks. I know you're far too busy to be involved with such matters, but perhaps in the future -"

"Indeed, Director. However, I can't be everywhere at once, especially at the moment."

"I know. It's been a long while since I did the training course, but you have my sympathy. Back on the Decks next week, then?"

"Yes, Director, if my bruises have subsided enough."

Khiskov chuckled. "Yes, I saw that huge girl in your group."

"Ruth? Actually, she's one of the gentlest, kindest people I've met."

"That's often the way. Oh, before you go, I have to tell you that your request for a trusty assistant has been thoroughly scrutinised by the board, and we can't find anything that would obviously preclude the person you've asked for. There will be an interview for her the day after tomorrow, and as her intended supervisor you'll be asked to attend. Because you're still doing the course, the hearing will be at half past five. Which, as it happens, is the time now. Where is that girl?"

Khiskov thumbed on her terminal, but before she could touch a key Special Technician Trish Flanagan put her head around the door.

"Service, Director? Ah, Service, Counsellor."

"Trish? The Counsellor is ready for you to accompany her back to her old apartment to pick up her belongings."

As the two walked towards the nearest lift Marion said, "I'll have to speak to Shepherd Marchand before I get changed. We normally go home together, I'm not sure how this little side trip will fit in."

"That's okay," Trish said, "We've plenty of time, we'll go up to E Deck and you can talk to her."

With Trish waiting by the lift since she was forbidden on Deck, Marion found Belle and arranged to meet her outside the accommodation block once Belle's shift duties had finished. The two then took the lift down to Stores.

"Service," Marion said to the woman behind the counter. Miranda must have been busy elsewhere.

"Service, Counsellor, Technician. What can I do for you?"

"I have to clear out my belongings from my accommodation block this evening, that they're about to refurbish. Fortunately, I don't have much, as I'd only been in there a few days. Can I borrow a couple of sports bags? You can have them back tomorrow."

"That's no problem, two be enough? I'll fetch them for you."

The woman went into the back room and reappeared carrying two of the ubiquitous sports bags, which she then swiped with the counter wand.

"There, they're checked out to you. If you need any more, just come back and ask. I'll leave a note on the file for the evening shift."

"My thanks."

Marion then went to the locker room and changed. Trish had an evening shift so she stayed in uniform but did exchange her disc for her ID card. The two women walked out of the front of the building and up the road to the accommodation block. It was cordoned off and two Enforcers patrolled the front of the building.

"Service, citizens," Trish greeted them. "My colleague here is permitted to enter the building to collect her belongings. Can we go in?"

The two men recognised Trish and were happy to let her and Marion enter the building. They had to call at the supervisor's office, where they found Proctor Todescu in charge.

"Service, Technician. Service, Citizen. You're here to collect belongings? I have a list, so I'd better have your card to verify who you are."

He took Marion's card and stuck it into his datapad, nodding at the result.

"That's fine, Counsellor. I remember, you were involved with that street robbery, weren't you? No lasting effects?"

"Thank you, Proctor, none at all. What happened to those three boys?"

"The one who was injured is still in a medical facility, the other two have been sent for correctional training. We might make decent citizens of them yet. You need any assistance collecting your belongings?"

"Thank you, no, I didn't have very much. I'd only been here a short time, and I have Trish with me if I need assistance."

Most of the ceiling panels had been pulled down and there were several gaping holes in the floor as well, so they had to pick their way carefully through the untidy corridor to Marion's former apartment. The door was wedged open, and all the furniture had been moved around. In the bedroom, all the drawers were open and someone had been through all her belongings. Marion looked at the mess sadly.

"I don't know what I expected, but the reality hurts," she remarked. "Did they have to do all this?"

"Regrettably, yes," replied Trish. "Since they couldn't be sure who actually lived in any apartment, they had to assume that it was all a crime scene. Everything would have been examined. For example, there might have been a weapon or cash hidden under the underwear."

Marion smoothed out the bed and began emptying the drawers one by one, laying her clothes out flat before folding them and carefully putting them into one of the bags. Trish watched for a second and then opened the wardrobe, lifting out clothes and laying them ready on the other bed for Marion to pack. Soon all that was left was the footwear Marion had been unable to take with her previously.

"I need some plastic bags to wrap these in," she said, and walked through the apartment into the kitchen alcove. "Trish? What happened to all the food? I bought quite a lot the day before I had to leave."

"Ah, we ate all that," Trish replied, following Marion into the kitchen. "Since it's all perishable, it wouldn't have been possible to keep it, so your food together with that of the other occupied apartments fed all the search teams while they were here."

"We?"

"Yes, I got co-opted since I had done the initial investigation." She shook her head. "That was quite some piece of work. I just hope they catch the ones who hacked the systems, those people are far too clever to be allowed to roam unchecked."

"What will happen now, if I can ask that question?" Marion asked as she carried the roll of bags back to the bedroom.

"That's okay. Yes, we'll have to completely strip the building systems out completely and replace them. Everything. We can't trust anything that's in here now, so it all has to go. The new wiring and nodes will be of the latest pattern and have a number of new security features to prevent something like this from happening again. In addition, we're making changes to the locks on the access panels, to prevent further intrusions."

"Oh. Can you hold this bag up so that I can get the shoes in? Thanks."

"Yes. If this exercise proves successful, we'll roll out the same upgrades when the other blocks become due for refurbishment. Is that everything? You leave anything in the living room?"

"We'll have a look, but I don't think so."

A last look in every cupboard, and Marion left her apartment for the last time. She hadn't lived there for very long, and it hadn't seemed like home. Would she feel at home living in the Enclave? At the current rate of progress, she wondered whether she'd live there long enough to find out.

They checked out with Proctor Todescu, and stood waiting outside for a short while for Belle to appear. At this time of evening the road was busy as the day shift was going home and the evening shift arriving. Soon Belle arrived and relieved Marion of one of the bags. Trish said goodbye and started back towards the facility while Marion turned to Belle.

"How did you get on with Talya, then? Find out anything useful?"

Instantly Belle's face crumbled. She dropped the bag and clutched Marion's arm.

"I don't think it's going to work," she said, tears brimming in her eyes. "There's no obvious way we can stay together. Talya and I talked it through for ages."

Marion looked at Belle with amazement and concern. This was the first time that she had seen the vulnerable side of Belle rather than the self-confident persona she had always displayed up till now. She put her arms around her partner.

"Now, don't you dare go and cause a scene out here in public," she said. "What brought this on? You looked all right when I came up to the Deck."

Belle gave a wan smile. "I had to keep my 'game' face on while I was on duty," she replied. "I'd always want to be professional on Deck. I bet a lot of them knew I was upset, though. You can't hide something like that."

"I'm surprised you managed even that," Marion said. "Let's go home, and we can discuss the situation calmly and clearly. Something happened this morning while my group was being taken round, and it's given me an idea which may help." She brightened as she remembered her conversation with Khiskov. "I have lots of other news to tell you, as well. Here," Marion fumbled in her shoulder bag and found a tissue. "Clean yourself up and let's go get a tram. The sooner you're home the better."

The ride home was taken in near silence. The fact that the tram was full of workers returning home meant that Belle tried to avoid appearing too emotional, and Marion steered clear of saying anything that might set her off. It was obvious that the situation had hit Belle hard, and showed just how much she had wanted to be with Marion.

Once inside the apartment it became apparent that Belle had been thinking about Marion's words. After taking their jackets off and getting a kettle going for a pot of tea, she turned to Marion.

"What did you mean earlier, you had an idea?"

"You know we were given the tour today?" Belle nodded. "When we came out of Laundry there was a group of new detainees being unloaded. One of them broke free and ran straight for me."

"You? Why you?"

"I think, because I was the only one not in a Shepherd's uniform. Anyway, she was completely bewildered as to why she was there, if she even knew where she was at all. I managed to calm the situation down and assure her that she'd be looked after properly and her case would be thoroughly investigated."

"Ah," said Belle, interested despite herself. "You think she was innocent, then, just like you?"

"It's quite likely. So, afterwards as we went up to the next level, I reviewed my own circumstances and wondered what I could do for her. Then I remembered what had happened at the end of it all." Marion smiled. "Do you remember the minister who came to the exoneration hearing? Marcus Matteson? Remember what he said?"

"Well, yes, but I don't see -"

"Does he live in the Enclave? Can we call him from here?"

"I don't know. I suppose so. What can he do for her, though? She still has to go through the appeal process, we can't interfere with that."

"Not her, silly! Me. We can ask him about our situation."

What Marion was saying finally dawned on Belle, and her expression became more hopeful.

"You're right! Perhaps we can contact him, most ministers live in the Enclave. Because of that, the Enclave has it's own phone system, a secure one. Let's go and check."

The kettle was turned off and the two made their way to Belle's office. She thumbed on her terminal and found the directory listing for the Enclave, a page she rarely had occasion to use. She found that Marcus Matteson did indeed live in one of the other blocks, and she pressed the call button.

"Service, Citizen, your pardon, Citizens. Ah, Citizen Marchand, what can I do for you?" He appeared to be in a hurry.

"Service, Minister. I apologise for disturbing you. I wonder if you remember when we last met, six weeks ago in the appeal court," Belle asked.

Matteson stared at her, blinked, and then smiled. "Yes, citizen, I do. And is that the citizen with you who was cleared?" He frowned. "How did you manage to call me here? Are you in the Enclave?"

"Of course, Minister. I live here. She is my partner, now called Marion Hillier. We have encountered some difficulty with her residency, and we wondered if you might be able to assist."

"You live in..? Ah, of course, you must forgive me, I didn't realise exactly who you were, citizen. Residency? Well, I can't do anything this evening, I'm about to go out to a state function." He considered. "Actually, I had planned to have a quiet family dinner at home tomorrow night. I wonder, would you two consider joining us? If we live that close together, it would seem appropriate to meet socially, and we will have an opportunity to discuss your problem afterwards, in private if necessary. Would that be acceptable to you both?"

"Yes, Minister, if you're sure we wouldn't be disturbing your family evening. We'd be glad to accept."

"I'll make the arrangements, then. We don't eat that late, because of the children. Can you make seven-thirty? We can arrange something different if you can't."

"No, that will be fine. We'll see you tomorrow evening, then."

"Good," he smiled, "I'm looking forward to it. I have to go now, there's a car waiting. End call."

Belle closed down the terminal with a satisfied look on her face. "I didn't expect that!" she remarked. Then anxiety showed. "Do you really think he can do something for us, Marion? I didn't think that there was any way we could get it to work."

"I don't know," Marion replied. "If he can't, then I don't think anyone can. But we might find out exactly what the stumbling blocks are from him, if there's something going on we don't know about."

Belle groaned. "Not more conspiracies. Come on, I need that cup of tea, and it's about time we got an evening meal started."

That night, Marion found the positions reversed. She had to be the strong one, comforting a distracted Belle who put her head on Marion's bosom and clutched her for support. It was a while before both were able to find sleep.