Laura could hear the music through Abby's door before she reached it. It sounded as though the party was in full swing already. That was good; she hated being the first. Something in her make-up made her rather be an hour early for an appointment than five minutes late. It had meant many long waits at corner coffee shops in the past.

The door was answered by Abby herself, bopping in a dress ten years too short for her.

"Whoo, Laura, you made it. Come in, come in."

Laura entered the hallway. "Hi, Abby," she shouted over the music, then waved the bag containing two bottles of wine in the air.

"Good girl. Get our priorities right. This way."

Abby led Laura to the small kitchen. The table was hidden underneath a collection of bottles and glasses. The music was slightly quieter in there.

"First things first, my girl. While you're still sober, sign a consent form. It's too noisy for talking anyway."

"Really? A consent form?"

"Yeah, best be careful. The Guild are swarming all over the place this week. Have you seen that creepy pair doing the rounds? So I thought, 'Cover your arse, Abby, girl.' Most are only doing level two Listening anyway, but if Ahmed starts any of his level three shit, just think about rare steak. He's a vegetarian, and it grosses him out. People can only Listen in the living room, the rest of the apartment is out of bounds. And just one more rule; enjoy yourself."

Laura smiled as she thumbed Abbey's notepad. "Thanks for the warning. I'll try."

"Oh, you'd better do more than that, my girl. Do you need any help?"

Abby grinned a smile rich with guilty pleasure, and help up a capsule between finger and thumb.

"Empathol?" said Laura. "Jesus, Abby. Are you out of your mind?"

"Oh, relax. It just helps drop the barriers a little, that's all. Rounds a few sharp edges, that sort of thing."

"Where did you get it?"

Abby tapped the side of her nose. "I have a friend of a friend who has friend who's friendly with a friend in the police." She paused, staring into space for a second. "Wait, one too many friends. Anyway, I've only got a couple, so if you want one, now's the time to say. A couple of the girls felt a bit too inhibited without one."

She palmed it quickly as a man in his forties entered the kitchen.

"Billy-boy! Enjoying yourself?" she cried.

"Need more beer," he replied, waving a crushed beer can. "Hey, Laura, you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You know, Bill, that joke just never gets old, even the hundredth time you tell me it."

"Hey, hey, hey!" chided Abby. "No mind melding. You know the rules. You can only Listen to people who are in the living room." Her eyes went wide with delighted shock. "Oh my God, you'll never guess what Ahmed just thought."

She turned and headed towards the living room. "Ahmed, you disgusting creature. I'm going to have to wash the inside of my head out."

"Beer?" asked Bill, opening the refrigerator.

"I think I'll stick with some wine for now," said Laura, reaching for a glass.

"Hey, you been audited lately?"

Laura nodded. "Last night."

"Yeah, a bunch of us have this week. Weird, isn't it? No-one gets audited for months on end, then, Bang! You joining the fray?"

"The music's a bit loud. I wouldn't have thought it was your thing."

Bill grinned and pulled out an earpiece. "Pardon?"

"Have you been listening to a word I've been saying?"

"Sure. These are really cool. Filters out nearly everything that's not speech. It has this little chip that generates anti-noise ...." Bill thrust the earpiece towards Laura so that she could better see the technological marvel.

"Eww, Bill. That's been in your ear. I'm not interested."

"Fine, live in the Dark Ages." He screwed the earpiece back in. "Don't come running to me when you're deaf, though. Come on."

"Just a minute." Laura closed her eyes, bringing her mind into focus. She carefully shuttered out the areas she didn't want to share, running her thumb over her fingertips like a rosary as she shut each section away.

She opened her eyes again. Bill looked at her in mock disappointment.

"Spoilsport," he said. They walked into the living area.

Laura paused inside the doorway. The curtains were closed and the lights switched off. The air seemed solid with loud music and laughter. She could only make out vague shadows. She cast her net. Eight people ringed the room; six women and two men. As she let the net gently lower she felt the others Listening to her. She flinched involuntarily as half a dozen separate enquiries probed into her mind.

Laura ran through her mantras, slowly letting down the barriers, allowing her friends entry into the forefront of her mind. Then she Listened, gently making her presence known, concentrating on the thoughts that were loudest, the emotions of the moment, avoiding any hint of barrier.

This was simple stuff, compared to Listening to multiple Normals. Listeners knew exactly how to compartmentalise their thoughts, how to invite another into certain areas, guide them from others, even rebuke and resist an attempt to cross the line.

There's a seat here The thought rose from the chorus of welcomes.

It's dark. I can't see.

Laura saw herself from a different viewpoint, silhouetted in the doorway. Not a photographic image, exactly. The viewer filled in little details, colours of impressions and emotions. Laura stepped forward, towards the person whose eyes she was borrowing. She felt clumsy and awkward. It seemed strange to turn slightly to the left, and see herself appear to turn to what would be the right if she were looking in a mirror. She fumbled her way through the dark and found the sanctuary of the couch.

"Thanks," she said to her unseen aid. There was a chorus of delighted disapproval from the minds surrounding her.

You spoke out loud That thought was from Ahmed, all peacock arrogance and schoolboy humour. Forfeit!

Hey! Not fair. I didn't know the rules.

The others repeated the chorus.

First sexual experience. Ahmed again, the bass laughter from across the room matching the emotions behind the thought.

Okay, okay. Laura conjured up Ahmed's face in her mind's eye. Raucous laughter filled the room. She allowed her eyes to drop. He was naked. As she imagined her eyes dropping further, she showed the company his manhood, as small as a maggot. The girls screeched with laughter.

No, no, no! protested Ahmed. It's a snake, a python, not a maggot.

You want me to carry on? Laura brought up a sign on the wall. 'Acme Meat Processing Plant.'

You are an evil witch! his thoughts screamed, though there was no anger in the accompanying emotion.

Laura stopped her daydream. She was laughing too much now anyway. Ahmed was an infamous lecher, but it was all meant in good fun. Mentally, she stepped back and quietened her thoughts, bringing her emotions to the fore and concentrated on Listening to the others.

She hadn't done this since her training, sharing with a group of other Listeners. It had been so difficult at first, taking months of practice. Listening to several minds at once was difficult enough, but letting your guard down at the same time was much harder. It was the ultimate exercise in trust - you wouldn't be human if you didn't have some dark corner of your soul you never wanted to see the light of day - but it was the ultimate intimacy as well. She could understand the appeal. If you had the confidence to expose your basest nature, and you could accept the basest of your partner's, then you would never experience the deceit or misunderstandings of normal couples. Maybe she was just the tiniest bit jealous of Tony and Judy, but she was equally sure she could never be involved in such a relationship herself. She wasn't the forgiving kind.

Laura sipped her wine and Listened, occasionally putting a thought to the fore for the others to read, but mostly she read and shared the positive emotions. She floated in the atmosphere, sharing an intimacy with friends that stopped short of anything more. The barriers slowly dropped as she recalled the training exercises, the warmth of shared experience, and as she gradually drained her glass.

Later she found her mind slipping over the others, stumbling over half-concealed thoughts as alcohol and Empathol broke down barriers. People were becoming clumsy about what they revealed, and she was becoming clumsy about the areas she Listened. When she heard a wistful memory of a past conquest, the face blurring between several people in the room, Laura decided it was time to leave. She didn't want awkward silences and nervous giggles when she met her friends next week. Thank goodness she had turned down the Empathol; alcohol was dangerous enough.

Laura climbed to her feet and made her way to Abby. She was relaxed on a bean bag, her face vacant and smiling. Laura held out her hand. Abby grabbed it and fell into Laura's thoughts.

Great party. Thanks for the invite.

You're going already?

Laura felt Abby push into her mind, looking for a reason. It wasn't cruel, but the inelegance as she bumped around in her thoughts betrayed the effects of the drug and drink.

No, you're right, Laura heard Abby think. That's cool. Glad you enjoyed yourself. Maybe next time you'll stay longer.

For a moment Laura hesitated. It was not possible to lie to a Listener, not like this. Laura didn't have to make false excuses, nor Abby utter false platitudes. They'd both been glad Laura had come, and the thought of staying was seductive, but she was still sober enough to realise she'd regret drinking any more. Besides, a couple of the others had already strayed over that boundary.

She waved, thinking her goodbyes, and left the room, carrying the warm feeling with her.