Chuki sat, fingers pressed to her lips, head bowed.

Bathed in soft peach light, a glowing star, bisected by a cross, crescent moon atop filled the screen, the sounds of a gentle stream providing the backdrop for Mother's blessing.

The soft voice of the faint female face blended with the stream, filling Chuki with the joy of the CoDE, the Peace of Mother.

'You have selected Option 3. Please Citizen, share.'

Chuki took a breath, lowering her fingers, she gazed with love at the screen and opened her heart to Mother.

'All-Knowing Mother, please bring Peace to my family.'

She touched her belly, continuing.

'My husband, Kwembe, is a good man, a hard-working man. But he worries, Mother, worries so much!

'As you know, You have blessed us, not once but twice.'

Chuki touched her lips again in deference - of course Mother knew!

'Blessed us with Your gift of life. My children, our little angels, both are growing so fast! Good children!'

The memory banks of the CoDE scanned for the 180s, Mother's outline smiled at the Citizen.

'Good children, indeed, Peace be upon them!'

'And Peace Be upon all Society. But Mother, Mister Kwembe worries that Your bounty is unworthy of a lowly transportation worker, worries that the child to come…within weeks now…'

'Calm yourself, good Citizen. What will be will be. The Balance of Probabilities guides the fate of all Citizens. Worry not about that which you cannot control.

'Mother will look over the soul of the unborn, protect and cherish all of Her Citizens.'

Chuki was mid-sigh of relief as the faint peach outline added:

'And if the infant is Judged…the Balance of Probabilities deems the child will grow to become deviant…so be it…DDV must not infect Society, threaten harm to all Citizens. The 180 will determine your child's fate, as it should be. You have no say in the outcome! Mother wishes you Peace.'

The stream stopped, the screen dimmed. Mother was gone. The Church of Divine Equality empty but for herself.

Chuki Kwembe placed, as was custom, one hundred and eighty Credits in the offerings slot, and kissed her fingers to her lips in thanks.

Emma lay awake in the predawn light, gently stroking Luke's hair as he snored softly, head against her breast, limbs wrapped around hers, so close.

For four years now, they'd shared that tiny room at the Academy, making it almost like a home, at least until they had graduated and begun their professional lives.

The final six months had flown by in a blur of preparation, final examinations and practical tests, and making their plans for a bright future together. Maybe even an introduction to her Father and step-Mom, if the Agency permitted?

Plans, that sadly, now looked like they'd never come to fruition.

In their final week before graduation, the Cadets had been given their field postings.

Emma had been given Area 4, City B. Not too far from where she'd grown up, a bustling metropolis, population almost at the prescribed optimum, birth-rates high, workload steady for the Agency.

They'd held hands, hoping, as Luke opened his orders.

Tears came to them both as the screen showed: Area 1. City Delta.

'Oh, Mother! Em, that's…'

'About four thousand kilometres away, a different continent! '

'I'll ask for a transfer, or you can, we'll be together, Em, one way or another, I promise! '

But they both knew; postings were for a minimum of five years. No transfers until they'd served the minimum term.

'We'll be sooo old, twenty-seven at least, but I promise I’ll push you around in your chair, Gramps!'

They both tried to smile, laugh off their devastation, but failed miserably.

That night they'd made love for maybe the last time, clinging to each other, desperate not to let go.

Now, as Luke slept, Emma was filled with doubts.

Not only doubting if she'd ever see the man she loved again, but doubts about whether she could do her job without him there.

When push finally came to shove, could she take an infant off a heartbroken parent? Deny another family the chance of happiness, like that her and Luke had been denied?

More importantly, could she take that poor little baby away, end a life before it had a chance to begin?

Over and over, what if Luke hadn't been posted away from her, what if they'd had a chance to marry, have a child?

And, what if, God forbid, by fluke of nature, on balance of probability, that child was taken away from them?

A fitful sleep came, nightmares where she was running through a room full of noisy, bloody shredders, searching frantically for her children.

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