About Sisterland

by Martina Devlin

  The mother walked across to the window to watch the street life below. Activity was disciplined, pedestrians all moving purposefully, although respectful of one another’s personal space. It seemed to soothe her, and she nodded in approval.

  “I’ve witnessed ugly sights, Constance. Sights that weigh heavily on me. They don’t believe in cooperation, except when it suits them. Every decision is based on personal gain – community interests are sidelined. The individual always takes precedence. Such a selfish, driven way of life!” Wearied, the Shaper Mother leaned her forehead against the glass.

  “You should rest, mother. Surely someone else can continue with the interchange?”

  “Unfortunately not. I’m linked in to the subject now, I must see it through. That’s the protocol. We have a system for dealing with renegades. Not that we encounter them often. The oceans protect our borders.”

  Why, she’s forgotten herself, Constance realised. She’s just admitted Sisterland has outer limits in need of guarding. Exhaustion must have caused the blunder. As the thought formed, she suppressed it, but the mother was flagging visibly and not sensing as she usually did.

  “It might be a good idea to close your eyes for an hour, mother. Even if you don’t sleep, the rest will help.”

  “Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever sleep again. The cruelty of this person’s world is seared on me. The violence! The tumult!” She was overtaken by a yawn. “By rights, I shouldn’t have left Sistercentral, but the subject has been allowed a few hours’ sleep, and I couldn’t bear to be under the same roof any longer. I felt soiled.”

  As the Shaper Mother pulled her shawl tight, Constance experienced a beat of pity. She had never seen her so vulnerable.

  The mother’s head snapped back on her neck. “Incidentally, I presume you’ve been informed: the Nine has new plans for you.”

  “Innocence said I wasn’t being sent to MUM. I know I owe it to you, mother. You spoke up for me, and I’ll never forget it. But it’s only a temporary reprieve, isn’t it? The Nine is busy now. My case has been aside. But something will be done about me, maybe after I become a source.”

  “Constance, child, I really don’t know what’s to become of you. All I can tell you is this: have faith in the Nine. Believe me, I’ll do my best for you. And now, I think I will lie down after all. Another long day stretches ahead.”

  She retreated to the inner office, Constance following to activate the pop-up.

  “I’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed, mother.”

  “Call me at once if the Nine needs me.”

  “Of course. Shall I fetch you a container for your skin?”

  “I’m still wearing it? I must be more tired than I realised.” She reached up to unhook it. “There’s a holder in the footstool beside my chair. Just lift the stool’s lid.”

  Constance found a carved onyx box. “How dainty.”

  “It was a gift from my other.”

  “What exquisite taste, mother.”

  “Yes, she was rather amazing.” A remnant of sorrow settled on the Shaper Mother’s face, visible without the barrier of her mask.

  It moved Constance. Despite the difference in their stations, she wanted to reach out to this woman who had championed her before the Nine. “Should I organise a moe? It might revive you.”

  The mother recoiled. “I hardly ever indulge.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to presume. But I don’t fully understand how I’m supposed to assist you.”

  “It was a thoughtful suggestion. But the upper echelons in Sisterland rarely take moes. It’s seen as a sign of weakness. On the odd occasion when I do, it’s always an E.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “Nothing. Empathy helps me to connect with my sisters. Moes have their place, but not in my life. I don’t suppose you’d consider . . .” She paused, leaving the words dangling.

  “I’m sure I’d consider doing anything you wanted of me, mother.”

  “Would you? Would you really?”

  Constance gave a start at the urgency in her voice.

  “That’s good to know. I’ll talk to you later, sweet child. Operate the blankout on your way out.”

  Back in the outer office, Constance found some folded sheets of paper on the floor, by the window. They must be what the mother had been studying. She picked them up and opened them out.

  ACCOUNT BY OUTSIDELANDER OF SISTERLAND’S ORIGINS

  Scribbled on the margin was an instruction.

  Cross-reference with memory-keeper versions

  Constance began reading the printed text.

  Q. What’s known about the birth of Sisterland?

  A. It happened in response to World War III which broke out in the year 2035. The war lasted for two years and caused some 2.5 billion deaths. When peace was negotiated, the world lay in rubble. A generation was annihilated – young men, for the most part, along with significant numbers of young women. Contrary to expectations, nuclear weaponry was not a factor, but sustained heavy artillery action severely compromised the planet’s ecosystem. Species of wild animals became extinct. Priceless artworks were lost when museums and galleries were shelled, while iconic landmarks were destroyed beyond repair.

  Q. Were women forced to join this war?

  A. Fighting was conducted largely by men but with some female participation. For the most part, women were not regarded as useful in the field, and ran non-military operations in their home territories. They headed up government bodies concerned with healthcare and education, in addition to any multinational companies still able to function. For the first time in history women became accustomed to power. And when they saw what could be achieved with it – even during wartime – they decided to try to put a stop to warfare, once and for all.

  Q. How?

  A. An alignment of women known as the Nine, headed by a charismatic leader of obscure origins called Beloved, came together to develop a strategy. During the war’s wind-down phase, the Nine arranged for giantscreens to be erected at all of the main meeting points for homecoming troops in docks and airports. Exhausted combatants were warned that their military leaders were addicted to war, and would declare it again on another front. Exclusively female government was the only way to guarantee peace.

  Q. And men saw sense?

  A. Nobody likes to lose power. After peace terms were negotiated, there was an attempted male resumption which proved unsuccessful. This was largely due to the debilitating impact of a pathogenic strain of bacteria unleashed during the final phase of WWIII. It only attacked the XY chromosome combination – women’s XX genetic composition meant they were immune. The scientists who developed the bacteria as a weapon of biological warfare believed they had an antidote to safeguard their own side. But while the counter-agent worked for a time, the bacteria mutated and overrode it. The men who survived the war were weakened, and their vulnerability allowed women to consolidate their position. The Nine took drastic steps to separate the genders – and to programme women to be suspicious of men.

  A commentary was scribbled at this point.

  And a new world order emerged! A nation ruled by women. It was a metamorphosis. A transfiguration. A perfection!

  Q. How did other countries react to the Sisterland State?

  A. At first, the rest of the world was busy licking its wounds. By the time it woke up to what had been established, Sisterland’s borders were secure. Efforts to make contact through diplomatic channels were rebuffed, and

  The office door opened. Constance shoved the pages into the drawer of the desk.

  Modesty walked in, moulded to the one-piece garment worn by all Sistercentral staff.

  “Modesty, back already! Don’t you look smart!”

  Modesty trailed a hand down her front. “This is self-cleaning. Dirt dissolves on contact, like foam on sand. Why are you looking so shifty?”

  Constance took out the pages and handed them to Modesty whose eyebrows disappeared into her hairline as she read them.r />
  “Where did you get these?”

  “The mother dropped them.”

  “Must be notes from her sessions with the Outsidelander. Don’t let her know you’ve found them. You’ll catch it, if she does.”

  “What’ll I do with the pages, Modesty?”

  “Put them back where you found them.”

  Constance dropped the sheets of paper by the window.

  “Did you find them like that? Or were they folded up?”

  Constance picked up the papers, doubled them in half, and let them fall again.

  “Too conspicuous,” said Modesty. “Kick them out of sight. Over there. By those stupid scatter cushions. Glad to see them earn their keep at last. Now, I’m under instructions to fetch the mother back to the Sistercentral: the Nine needs her. She was sent a voice message on her comtel, but she always forgets to check it – I used to do it for her. You’ll have to remember, in future.”

  “But she’s only just left the Sistercentral. She’s exhausted.”

  Modesty shrugged. “I’m to brief her en route.”

  “Is she needed right now?”

  “Of course right now. Why? Has she something better to do than answer a Nine summons?”

  “She’s trying to sleep, that’s all I meant. She worked all night on a mindmap subject. Modesty, why would the mother sleep in the office? Why wouldn’t she go home?”

  “She doesn’t like going home.”

  “Why not?”

  Modesty’s face reflected her usual struggle between discretion and a desire to gossip. “Maybe she’s afraid of its associations. Something unfortunate happened to the mother’s other. She wound up with facial burns – utterly disfigured, the damage ate down to the bone. A chemical in her skin caused the accident.”

  “I thought she lost her other. She always mentions her in the past tense.”

  “Lost, in real terms. Her other is no longer a companion.”

  “Don’t they share a home any longer?”

  “Her other’s in mindedplace. And the mother can’t face her.”

  “Because of the scarring?”

  “Because of the guilt. She bought her the skin, as a gift. It was made under a new procedure, not fully compliant with safety standards.”

  “That’s hardly the mother’s fault. She gave it to her in good faith.”

  “True. But the Nine persuaded her the story had to be suppressed in case it caused panic. Sisterlanders might throw away their skins, and that would lead to . . . complications.”

  Constance looked at her skin, in a box sitting on her desk. If it caught fire, it would stick to her face. She could never remove it in time to save herself.

  “So does she see her other at all now?”

  “She visits her now and again, but her other screams at the sight of her. At least the mother didn’t choose a new other. That was loyal of her.”

  “But it would have been impossible. Sisters are only allowed one other in their lifetimes.”

  “What a pearl you are – even now. Don’t believe everything you’ve been taught.” Modesty gave a tiny nod towards the scatter cushions, and the Outsidelander’s account.

  Constance went to fetch the Shaper Mother.

  She was instantly alert, rising and asking for water, before going through to the outer office.

  “I hear you’re on the Honour 19 team, Modesty.”

  “I do have that privilege.”

  “Good. I told Innocence you’re a natural-born organiser.” Turning to Constance, the Shaper Mother said, “The Nine’s plans to commemorate Honour have been upgraded. A public holiday is to be announced. The date hasn’t been fixed yet, but we’re working towards this time next month. Right, Modesty?”

  There was only one annual holiday a year – Sisterday, celebrated on August 24th– so the addition of a second holiday was momentous.

  “Yes, there’s going to be a yearly event, called Memoryday,” said Modesty. “June 29th is the date chosen.”

  “Memoryday – won’t it be splendid!” said the mother. “This year, Honour will be the focus, but we’ll extend it to cover all our memory-keepers. They’ve been pivotal in advancing the Sisterland ethos. How do you like that idea, Constance?”

  “Honour deserves to have her contribution recognised, mother.”

  “Indeed, but it’s not only about her. The individual, no matter how outstanding, is not what matters. It’s the group. After all, memories are too important to be left to individuals – that’s why central control had to be taken of them. So, Memoryday will celebrate Sisterland, and Sisterland will celebrate Memoryday. We need reminding of everything achieved, and everything yet to be achieved.”

  Constance’s forehead wrinkled. “Forgive me, mother, but we’re taught that Sisterland is already ideal. So what does the Nine believe is yet to be achieved?”

  “What you were taught was correct at the time you were taught it. But perfection, it turns out, can be honed still further. Something of enormous significance is now under way. Something that takes women to a new level as life-givers.”

  This development sounded ominous to Constance, and a sidelong glance told her that Modesty’s eyes were also boggling.

  “Impatient.” The Shaper Mother straightened her shawl, chuckling. “All will be revealed soon. When the Nine judges the time is right.”

  “Mother, what’s that by the cushions?” asked Modesty.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  Constance approached the cushions. “Some papers.” She bent and picked up the pages. Without opening them out, she handed them to the mother.

  The mother stuffed them into her pocket, and looked closely at Constance. Constance fought the mindmapping.

  “You’re putting on weight, child. Don’t forget you’re entitled to new clothes – Sisterland provides everything free to waiting sources.”

  “Yes, mother.”

  “Our sources are dear to us.”

  “Yes, mother.”

  “But Sisterland is dearer still.”

  Chapter 24

  At home time, emerging into Eternity Square, Constance decided to go for a walk. She followed a pavement constructed from hexagonal slabs of mica, on which the outlines of musical instruments were imprinted. This would lead her to Courtesy Avenue, where she could pick up some source clothes – the Shaper Mother was right, everything she owned was now too tight. Somewhere along the way, however, her feet had different ideas, and she found herself outside the Tower. If only she could find out if Harper was all right. If only she could let him know about their baby.

  Just then, Unity emerged. Even at a distance, Constance knew her by her stiff-bodied walk: as though her head was balanced insecurely on her neck, and might tumble off unless she proceeded with caution.

  She set out after her. “Unity? I attended the Tower recently. Maybe you remember me?”

  “Oh, I remember you, all right. We lost a top-grade meet because of you.”

  Dread prickled along Constance’s scalp. “What do you mean? What happened to him?”

  “He had to be taken off the job. Refused to mate with anyone after you.”

  Constance felt a thrill of pride at Harper’s defiance, swamped at once by fear for the consequences. “What did they do to him?”

  “Food deprivation, and when that didn’t work, sleep deprivation.”

  “And then?”

  Unity turned a suspicious glance on Constance. “You seem more worried about the meet than the havoc he created.”

  “Please tell me. I feel responsible.”

  Unity was walking at a cracking pace, and a stitch developed in Constance’s side. In lockstep, they skirted round a wheeler belonging to a worker from the city’s ambience division. The worker was twiddling the dials on a box set into a wall, and birdsong began to carol out.

  “How do you like our new policy?” she called to them. “Sisters have been missing the sound of birds. Not their droppings, mind you. This is the best of both world
s.”

  A dawn chorus orbited around them.

  “Perhaps you should know what you provoked,” said Unity. “The Mating Mother was worried the meet’s behaviour would be contagious. Imagine if other meets started refusing to take part in Himtime, too. She had to nip it in the bud. When food and sleep deprivation didn’t work, she sent for him, and offered to improve his living conditions. His attitude showed the kind of throwback defiance we thought was bred out of men. He said slavery was slavery, no matter how the cage was prettied up, and demanded to be sent home. Can you believe it?”

  Fear for Harper hollowed out Constance. When she tried to speak, she found her throat had seized up. Licking her lips, she tried again. What emerged was a croak. “Wouldn’t that have solved the Mating Mother’s problem?”

  “Solved the problem? Created a nest of them, more like. Every meet in the Tower would’ve spun the same line. Besides, Sisterland can’t reward disobedience. What kind of precedent would that set? No, The Mating Mother did the only thing possible. She couldn’t cover up his disobedience. She went to the licensing authorities and admitted she had a meet she couldn’t control. They took over the running of the Tower, and all the unpleasantness died down. Except the Mating Mother’s been downgraded to greeter. Which was my job. So I’ve been downgraded to mead-server. And all because of a rebellious meet.”

  “Where’s Harper now?”

  “He was taken away.”

  Constance’s flesh chilled. “Shipped off to an outer belt?”

  “Should’ve been, for the trouble he caused. But I hear he’s still in Harmony. There’s a shortage of young men to do the grunt work in eat-easies. So he was sent to one. And that’s where he’ll stay, while he’s able to work. Guess he must be living in Hutchtown.”

  Male labour lived in that zone, to the north-east of the city. It would be like hunting for a leaf on the floor of Harper’s forest.

  “Unity, could you find out which easy he’s in?”

  “What a strange question! Why in the name of Beloved would you want to know where he is?”

  “I can’t explain. But it’s important. Can you find out?”