The Testaments

by Margaret Atwood

  “Really? Oh, praise be, Aunt Lydia!” said Becka. “That is such wonderful news. Here? In Gilead? But why have we not all been told? It’s like a miracle!”

  “Control yourself, please, Aunt Immortelle. I must now add that Baby Nicole is the half-sister of Aunt Victoria.”

  “No shit!” Jade exclaimed. “I don’t believe this!”

  “Jade, I did not hear that,” said Aunt Lydia. “Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control.”

  “Sorry,” Jade mumbled.

  “Agnes! I mean, Aunt Victoria!” Becka said. “You have a sister! That is so joyful!! And it’s Baby Nicole! You are so lucky, Baby Nicole is so adorable.” There was the standard picture of Baby Nicole on Aunt Lydia’s wall: she was indeed adorable, but then, all babies are adorable. “May I hug you?” Becka said to me. She was fighting hard to be positive. It must have been sad for her that I had a known relative but she did not have any: even her pretend father had just been shamefully executed.

  “Calm, please,” said Aunt Lydia. “Time has passed since Baby Nicole was a baby. She is now grown up.”

  “Of course, Aunt Lydia,” said Becka. She sat down, folded her hands in her lap.

  “But if she is here in Gilead, Aunt Lydia,” I said, “where is she, exactly?”

  Jade laughed. It was more like a bark.

  “She is at Ardua Hall,” said Aunt Lydia, smiling. It was like a guessing game: she was enjoying herself. We must have looked mystified. We knew everyone at Ardua Hall, so where was Baby Nicole?

  “She is in this room,” Aunt Lydia announced. She waved a hand. “Jade here is Baby Nicole.”

  “It can’t be!” I said. Jade was Baby Nicole? Therefore Jade was my sister?

  Becka sat with her mouth open, staring at Jade. “No,” she whispered. Her face was woeful.

  “Sorry about not being adorable,” Jade said. “I tried, but I’m terrible at it.” I believe she meant it as a joke, to lighten the atmosphere.

  “Oh—I didn’t mean…” I said. “It’s just…you don’t look like Baby Nicole.”

  “No she does not,” said Aunt Lydia. “But she does look like you.” It was true, up to a point: the eyes yes, but not the nose. I glanced down at Jade’s hands, folded for once in her lap. I wanted to ask her to stretch out her fingers so I could compare them to mine, but I felt that might be offensive. I didn’t wish her to think I was demanding too much evidence of her genuineness, or else rejecting her.

  “I’m very happy to have a sister,” I said to her politely, now that I was overcoming the shock. This awkward girl shared a mother with me. I’d have to try my best.

  “You’re both so lucky,” said Becka. Her voice was wistful.

  “And you’re like my sister,” I told her, “so Jade is like your sister too.” I didn’t want Becka to feel left out.

  “May I hug you?” Becka said to Jade; or, as I suppose I should now call her in this account, Nicole.

  “Yeah, I guess,” said Nicole. She then received a little hug from Becka. I followed suit. “Thanks,” she said.

  “Thank you, Aunts Immortelle and Victoria,” said Aunt Lydia. “You are demonstrating an admirable spirit of acceptance and inclusion. Now I must trouble you for your full attention.”

  We turned our faces towards her. “Nicole will not be with us for long,” said Aunt Lydia. “She will be leaving Ardua Hall shortly, and travelling back to Canada. She will be taking an important message with her. I want you both to help her.”

  I was astonished. Why was Aunt Lydia letting her go back? No convert ever went back—it was treason—and if that person was Baby Nicole, it was treason ten times over.

  “But, Aunt Lydia,” I said. “That is against the law, and also God’s will as proclaimed by the Commanders.”

  “Indeed, Aunt Victoria. But as you and Aunt Immortelle have now read a good many of the secret files I have been placing in your way, are you not aware of the deplorable degree of corruption that currently exists in Gilead?”

  “Yes, Aunt Lydia, but surely…” I had not been certain that Becka, too, had been treated to the crime files. Both of us had obeyed the TOP SECRET classification; but more importantly, each of us had wished to spare the other.

  “The aims of Gilead at the outset were pure and noble, we all agree,” she said. “But they have been subverted and sullied by the selfish and the power-mad, as so often happens in the course of history. You must wish to see that set right.”

  “Yes,” said Becka, nodding. “We do wish it.”

  “Remember, too, your vows. You pledged yourselves to help women and girls. I trust you meant that.”

  “Yes, Aunt Lydia,” I said. “We did.”

  “This will be helping them. Now, I don’t want to force you to do anything against your will, but I must state the position clearly. Now that I have told you this secret—that Baby Nicole is here, and that she will soon be acting as a courier for me—every minute that passes in which you do not divulge this secret to the Eyes will count as treachery. But even if you do divulge it, you may still be severely punished, perhaps even terminated for having held back, even for an instant. Needless to say, I myself will be executed, and Nicole will soon be no better than a caged parrot. If she won’t comply, they’ll kill her, one way or another. They won’t hesitate: you’ve read the crime files.”

  “You can’t do that to them!” Nicole said. “That’s not fair, it’s emotional blackmail!”

  “I appreciate your views, Nicole,” said Aunt Lydia, “but your juvenile notions of fairness do not apply here. Keep your sentiments to yourself, and if you wish to see Canada again it would be wise to consider that a command.”

  She turned to the two of us. “You are, of course, free to make your own decisions. I will leave the room; Nicole, come with me. We wish to give your sister and her friend a little privacy in which to consider the possibilities. We will return in five minutes. At that time, I shall simply require a yes or a no from you. Other details regarding your mission will be supplied in good time. Come, Nicole.” She took Nicole by the arm and steered her out of the room.

  Becka’s eyes were wide and frightened, as mine must have been. “We have to do it,” Becka said. “We can’t let them die. Nicole is your sister, and Aunt Lydia…”

  “Do what?” I said. “We don’t know what she’s asking for.”

  “She’s asking for obedience and loyalty,” said Becka. “Remember how she rescued us—both of us? We have to say yes.”

  * * *

  —

  After leaving Aunt Lydia’s office, Becka went to the library for her day shift, and Nicole and I walked back to our apartment together.

  “Now that we’re sisters,” I said, “you can call me Agnes when we’re alone.”

  “Okay, I’ll try,” Nicole said.

  We went into the main room. “I have something I want to share with you,” I said. “Just a minute.” I went upstairs. I’d been keeping the two pages from the Bloodlines files under my mattress, folded up small. When I returned, I unfolded them carefully and flattened them out. Once I’d laid them out on the table, Nicole—like me—couldn’t resist placing her hand on the picture of our mother.

  “This is amazing,” she said. She took her hand off, studied the picture again. “Do you think she looks like me?”

  “I wondered the same thing,” I said.

  “Can you remember her at all? I must’ve been too young.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Sometimes I think I can. I do seem to remember something. Was there a different house? Did I travel somewhere? But maybe it’s wishful thinking.”

  “What about our fathers?” she said. “And why did they blank out the names?”

  “Maybe they were trying to protect us in some way,” I said.

  “Thanks for showing me,” said Nicole. “But I don’t thin
k you should keep these around. What if you get caught with them?”

  “I know. I tried to put the pages back, but the file wasn’t there anymore.”

  In the end, we decided to tear the pages up into small pieces and flush them down the toilet.

  * * *

  —

  Aunt Lydia had told us we should strengthen our minds for the mission ahead of us. Meanwhile, we should continue on with life as usual, and not do anything to call attention to Nicole, or arouse suspicion. That was difficult, as we were anxious; I for one lived with a sense of dread: if Nicole were to be discovered, would Becka and I be accused?

  Becka and I were due to leave on our Pearl Girls mission very soon. Would we even go, or did Aunt Lydia have some other destination in mind? We could only wait and see. Becka had studied the Pearl Girls standard guide of Canada, with the currency, the customs, and the methods of purchasing, including credit cards. She was much better prepared than I was.

  When the Thanks Giving ceremony was less than a week away, Aunt Lydia called us to her office again. “This is what you must do,” she said. “I have arranged a room for Nicole at one of our country Retreat Houses. The papers are in order. But it is you, Aunt Immortelle, who will be going in Nicole’s stead. She herself will take your place, and will travel as a Pearl Girl to Canada.”

  “Then I won’t be going?” said Becka, dismayed.

  “You will go later,” said Aunt Lydia.

  I suspected it was a lie, even then.

  XXI

  Fast and Thick

  The Ardua Hall Holograph

  59

  I’d thought I had everything in order, but the best-laid plans gang aft agley, and trouble comes in threes. I write this in haste at the end of a very trying day. My office might as well have been Grand Central—before that venerable edifice was reduced to rubble during the War of Manhattan—so heavy was the foot traffic through it.

  The first to make an appearance was Aunt Vidala, who turned up right after breakfast. Vidala and undigested porridge are a taxing combination: I vowed to imbibe some mint tea as soon as I might arrange it.

  “Aunt Lydia, there is a matter to which I wish to draw your urgent attention,” she said.

  I sighed inwardly. “Of course, Aunt Vidala. Do sit down.”

  “I won’t take much of your time,” she said, settling herself in the chair in preparation for doing just that. “It’s about Aunt Victoria.”

  “Yes? She and Aunt Immortelle are soon to set off on their Pearl Girls mission to Canada.”

  “That is what I wish to consult you about. Are you sure they are ready for it? They are young for their ages—even more so than the other Supplicants of their generation. Neither of them have had any experience of the wider world, but some of the others have at least firmness of character that is lacking in these two. They are, you might say, malleable; they will be overly susceptible to the material temptations on offer in Canada. Also, in my opinion, Aunt Victoria is a defection risk. She has been reading some questionable material.”

  “I trust you are not calling the Bible questionable,” I said.

  “Certainly not. The material to which I refer is her own Bloodlines file from the Genealogical Archives. It will give her dangerous ideas.”

  “She does not have access to the Bloodlines Genealogical Archives,” I said.

  “Someone must have obtained the file for her. I happen to have seen it on her desk.”

  “Who would have done that without my authorization?” I said. “I must make inquiries; I cannot have insubordination. But I am sure Aunt Victoria is, by now, resistant to dangerous ideas. Despite your opinion of her juvenility, I believe she has achieved an admirable maturity and strength of mind.”

  “A thin facade,” said Vidala. “Her theology is very shaky. Her notion of prayer is fatuous. She was frivolous as a child and recalcitrant when it came to her school duties, especially the handicrafts. Also, her mother was—”

  “I know who her mother was,” I said. “The same can be said of many of our most respected younger Wives, who are the biological progeny of Handmaids. But degeneracy of that sort is not necessarily inherited. Her adoptive mother was a model of rectitude and patient suffering.”

  “That is true as concerns Tabitha,” said Aunt Vidala. “But, as we know, Aunt Victoria’s original mother is a particularly flagrant case. Not only did she disregard her duty, abandon her appointed post, and defy those set in Divine Authority over her, but she was the prime mover in the stealing of Baby Nicole from Gilead.”

  “Ancient history, Vidala,” I said. “It is our mission to redeem, not to condemn on purely contingent grounds.”

  “Certainly, as regards Victoria; but that mother of hers ought to be cut into twelve pieces.”

  “No doubt,” I said.

  “There is a credible rumour that she’s working with Mayday Intelligence, in Canada, on top of her other treasons.”

  “We win some, we lose some,” I said.

  “That is an odd way of putting it,” said Aunt Vidala. “It is not a sport.”

  “It is kind of you to offer me your observations on acceptable speech,” I said. “As for your insights on Aunt Victoria, the proof will be in the pudding. I am sure she will complete her Pearl Girls assignment most satisfactorily.”

  “We shall see,” said Aunt Vidala with a half-smile. “But if she defects, kindly remember that I warned you.”

  * * *

  —

  Next to arrive was Aunt Helena, all apuff from limping over from the library. Increasingly her feet are a bother to her.

  “Aunt Lydia,” she said. “I feel you should be aware that Aunt Victoria has been reading her own Bloodlines file from the Genealogical Archives without authorization. I believe that, in view of her biological mother, it is most unwise.”

  “I have just been informed of this fact by Aunt Vidala,” I said. “She shares your view as to the feebleness of Aunt Victoria’s moral fibre. But Aunt Victoria was well brought up, and has had the best education at one of our prime Vidala Schools. Is it your theory that nature will win out over nurture? In which case, the original sinfulness of Adam will assert itself in all of us despite our rigorous efforts to stamp it out, and I am afraid our Gilead project will be doomed.”

  “Oh surely not! I didn’t mean to imply that,” Helena said, alarmed.

  “You’ve read Agnes Jemima’s Bloodlines file yourself?” I asked her.

  “Yes, many years ago. It was restricted at that time to the Founding Aunts.”

  “We made the correct decision. Had the knowledge that Baby Nicole was Aunt Victoria’s half-sister been widely disseminated, it would have been detrimental to her development as a child. I now believe that some of the more unscrupulous within Gilead might have attempted to use her as a bargaining chip in their attempts to retrieve Baby Nicole, had they been aware of the relationship.”

  “I had not thought of that,” said Aunt Helena. “Of course you are right.”

  “It may interest you to know,” I said, “that Mayday is cognizant of the sisterly relationship; they have had Baby Nicole within their grasp for some time. It is thought they may wish to reunite her with her degenerate mother, since her adoptive parents have died suddenly. In an explosion,” I added.

  Aunt Helena twisted her claw-like little hands. “Mayday is ruthless, they would think nothing of placing her in the care of a moral criminal such as her mother, or even of sacrificing an innocent young life.”

  “Baby Nicole is quite safe,” I said.

  “Praise be!” said Aunt Helena.

  “Though she is as yet ignorant of the fact that she is Baby Nicole,” I said. “But we hope soon to see her take her rightful place in Gilead. There is now a chance.”

  “I rejoice to hear it. But should she indeed arrive among us, we must proceed carefully in th
e matter of her true identity,” said Aunt Helena. “We must break it to her gently. Such revelations can destabilize a vulnerable mind.”

  “My thoughts exactly. But in the meantime I would like you to observe the movements of Aunt Vidala. I fear it is she who has placed the Bloodlines file in the hands of Aunt Victoria, to what end I can’t imagine. Possibly she wishes Aunt Victoria to be overwhelmed with despair at the news of her degenerate parentage, and be thrown into an unsettled spiritual state, and make some rash misstep.”

  “Vidala never liked her,” said Aunt Helena. “Even when she was at school.”

  She limped away, happy to have been given a commission.

  * * *

  —

  As I was sitting in the Schlafly Café having my late-afternoon cup of mint tea, Aunt Elizabeth hurried in. “Aunt Lydia!” she wailed. “There have been Eyes and Angels in Ardua Hall! It was like an invasion! You didn’t sanction this?”

  “Calm yourself,” I said. My own heart was beating fast and thick. “Where, exactly, were they?”

  “In the print shop. They confiscated all our Pearl Girls brochures. Aunt Wendy protested, and I am sorry to say she was arrested. They actually laid hands on her!” She shuddered.

  “This is unprecedented,” I said, rising to my feet. “I shall demand a meeting with Commander Judd immediately.”

  I headed for my office, intending to use the red direct-line telephone, but there was no need: Judd was there before me. He must have simply barged in, pleading an emergency. So much for our agreed-on sacred separate sphere. “Aunt Lydia. I felt an explanation of my action was in order,” he said. He was not smiling.

  “I am sure there is an excellent one,” I said, allowing a little coldness into my voice. “The Eyes and Angels have greatly overstepped the bounds of decency, not to mention those of custom and law.”