Doing the surveys was a crazy idea. Cassie was lost in a blizzard of standardised psychology tests, and interviews with hundreds of women. With normal...women, with infected women, with cured women, their words, and their thoughts, and their moods, were all buzzing around in Cassie's head, totally aimlessly, totally formlessly.Cassie knew that the cured women were not normal. They were too kind, they were too attentive, they were too diligent.They were attractive.They were dangerous.And they had. "It's 2am. We'vestill got lots to do. Sit down."Sitting down was a hell of a lot harder than normal, now that I waswearing the corset. Bridie produced her makeup box."I haven't shaved yet," I pointed out."I know," replied Bridie. "I'll do your face later, before we leave forthe CEC. What I'm going to do now is your nails." Bridie glued a fullset of acrylic nails over the top of my own, and then painted them abright, shimmery red. "Don't touch them," she warned me. "I'll givethem a second coat. More

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