About Sisterland

by Martina Devlin

  “You’re as perverted as the mother said!”

  “Please, Unity. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Leave me alone! This meet cost me my job. Don’t you realise the trouble I’d be in, just for talking to you about him?”

  “I’d pay you for information. Nobody has enough els.”

  “Get away from me, or I’ll tell the Mating Board you’re looking for him.”

  “Name a price – anything you like. Anything at all.” Unity did not speak, but Constance could tell she had her attention. “It must be hard work in matingplace. Creating all that fantasy, but never sharing in it. I saw how the Mating Mother treated you – you were nothing but a pair of hands to her. And now she’s pinched your job.”

  “She was a tyrant!” Unity burst out. “And being demoted has made her worse. She still acts as if she’s in charge. I never wanted to work in matingplace. They pump us full of hot air about it being a patriotic job, but it’s like being a servant. Waiting hand and foot on pampered women with a permit to babyfuse. I never get offered one of those licences. The Mating Mother kept promising to propose me for retraining if I stuck with the job, but every time I reminded her she said, ‘Be patient’. She was stringing me along. And after mismanaging the Tower, she has no pull to recommend anyone now.”

  “So get even with her, and make some els for yourself into the bargain,” said Constance.

  “I don’t want els, I want a chance. Can you vouch for me? You seem to have friends in high places.”

  “I could try. What is it you want me to do?”

  “Put in a good word. Get me on a training programme. Anything. I don’t care what – I just want out of matingplace.”

  Constance was in no position to recommend anyone. But Unity was unaware of that. She considered making the promise anyway, but couldn’t deceive her.

  “Unity, I don’t have any influence. I’ve been transferred to the Shaper Mother’s office on a temporary basis, though. I could mention you to her as somebody with potential. I can’t do any more than that, I wish I could.”

  Unity stuck her hands in her pockets. “Better than nothing, I suppose. More than the Mating Mother ever did. All right, here’s what I heard. He’s in an easy in Octagon, near the Hope Bridge. Which one, I don’t know. You’ll have to do the legwork.”

  “The Hope Bridge. Odd how all roads lead there. Is there any chance they’ll ever let him go home now? After he’s done his penance?”

  “No chance. He should be thankful he’s not in a worse place. There was talk of Grey Disjoint for him. Conditions there would soon quench his fire.”

  “There’s something else I need to ask you, Unity.”

  “Make it quick.”

  “Do you remember Benevolence? She was taken from the Tower to Safe Space?”

  “What is it with you and defectives? She went on the blink – the Mating Mother had her licence revoked.”

  “That was unfair. She was a bit upset, granted, but since when is that a crime?”

  “A bit? She’s having aversion therapy.”

  “Aversion therapy to what?”

  “Babies.”

  “How extreme! She just wanted to be a source.”

  “She needs aversion therapy. Otherwise she’ll self-destruct, and that’s a waste of Sisterland’s investment in her. A thought-cruncher, right? Takes years to train up one of them. Aversion therapy’s for her own good. Don’t look so sorry for her. I know she wanted to be a source. But wanting’s not enough. You have to be suitable, as well. You won’t forget your promise, will you, Constance? I have to get out of the Tower.”

  “I won’t forget.”

  Constance boarded a train for the Octagon zone. A leaflet lay on the seat – there was one on every seat. She picked it up.

  We will not be SILENCED

  She looked round, to see if there was any reaction. Most of the passengers were pretending they didn’t see the leaflets, but one or two made eye contact. Tellingly, nobody was asking what the message meant. Either they knew already – or didn’t want to know. Constance pocketed her leaflet as she disembarked.

  She discovered three eat-easies within a stone’s throw of the Buzz station, and a dozen more in the labyrinth of streets behind the bridge. The smell from the easies made her ravenous. By the fourth, she was bloated. Detective work would leave her as broad as Sistercentral if she wasn’t careful. She switched to ocean tea for the next four easies. By the ninth, however, the smell of food weakened her resolve and she decided to try some cloud noodles. In this easy, as elsewhere, she positioned herself for a view through the hatch to the kitchen area. It gave her an occasional glimpse of the staff. Everywhere, the men were in late middle age. Naturally, they didn’t emerge, not even to wipe down tables, as they weren’t allowed to approach women.

  “Don’t you employ any young men? Who does the heavy work?” she asked the girl who brought down the cutlery she had forgotten to pick up.

  “We could use a strong pair of hands for lifting. But it’s hard to find young men for kitchen work. The Buzz network is being renovated – they all get diverted into that.”

  “That man I saw through the hatch seems to be lame. There must be a lot of labour to working in a kitchen.”

  “He has to work if he wants to eat.”

  Constance was troubled by the girl’s shrug. It reminded her that she had noticed things once, too, and deliberately pushed them aside. How there were no old men in Harmony, for example. They disappeared from the workplace once their strength and fitness levels declined – vanished from sight, too. Old women were treated with deference. Their others took care of them for as long as possible, with free mindedplace accommodation for any who needed nursing. She had been told that men who were old, or unable to work, were cared for in Brown Convolution. But for the first time, she wondered if that was an untruth. Just one more, among many, as she was now aware.

  Unsettled, she watched the hatch, behind which a man limped to and fro. The light went on for Constance to collect her order, but when she fetched it she didn’t remove the heat-lid from the dish.

  “Don’t ya like the noodles?” The woman at the next table jerked her chin at the bowl.

  “Lost my appetite. Are you from round here?”

  “Live in the next street, eat here most nights. Ain’t seen ya here before.”

  “I just happened to be in the neighbourhood.”

  “One of them Silenced gals?”

  “No, I’m not one of the Silenced. Why, what have you got against them?”

  “Nothing.” A glug, and a forkful of noodles vanished. “Can’t figure them out, is all. Dunno what their game is.”

  “Me neither,” said Constance. “But they aren’t doing any harm.”

  “Guess not. Don’t let the food get cold.”

  Constance tasted some of the fluffy noodles, which melted as she swallowed them.

  “Cloud noodles are good here.” Bowl empty, the woman at the next table was watching her.

  Constance forced herself to eat.

  “But if ya don’t mind me sticking my nose in,” the woman went on, “a babyfused sister needs something more substantial. Next time, try the spinach dumplings. Plenty of iron in them.”

  “I suppose I’m showing now.” It pleased Constance to think her babyfusion was visible.

  “Can’t rightly see your middle over the table but it’s there in your eyes. Something changes ’bout the eyes when a sister’s lining up to be a source. Been maybes thirty years since I babyfused, but I still got a nose for it. Don’t stop eating on my account – ya gotta keep your strength up. Baby’ll gobble y’up from the inside, otherwise.”

  Constance concentrated on the bowl in front of her. “Are there many eat-easies round here?”

  “Plenty. It’s a busy zone.”

  “Do you have a favourite?”

  “Here suits me. Set in my ways, maybes. But if it’s busy, I sometimes go to one off Gentle Street. Tucked in outta th
e way. Can always get a seat there. It’s called Rice-Wise.”

  “I’ll check it out.”

  “First right outta here, right again, and a sharp left brings you to it.”

  Constance finished her food, nodded at her neighbour, pushed back her chair, and left the eat-easy.

  The directions brought her to Rice-Wise. It was closed. She tried to see through the shutters, in case someone might be clearing up in the kitchen, but no lights shone. She’d have to return tomorrow. If she was organised and persistent, maybe she’d have all the eat-easies in the area checked out within a week or so. Although it might take longer – she couldn’t specifically ask in each one if they had a young, male worker. She’d have to sit there, and watch every time the hatch to the kitchen was lifted. The trouble was she needed to do this quickly while she had the stamina – Silence’s energy levels had flagged during babyfusion. “On the fifth, sixth and seventh day she rested,” she used to joke. Already, Constance was conscious of having to build in relaxation periods.

  A twinge in the small of her back reminded her to make tracks for home. As she waited for a westbound Buzz for Oblong, she reassured herself that Harper was more accessible to her in an eat-easy – any eat-easy, provided she could locate it – than in matingplace. Security was naturally tight for Himtime, but a close watch over diners was unnecessary. A discreet way of making contact shouldn’t be impossible. She couldn’t approach him directly: a woman falling into conversation with a man would attract attention. But she could slip him a note, perhaps. No, wait, he was unable to read. It would have to be a verbal message.

  Constance refused to dwell on the possibility that Harper might be swallowed up by Harmony, and beyond her reach. She was consumed by the need to find him. Into her comtel, she tapped the names of the eat-easies already checked out, and a reminder to upload a detailed street map of the Octagon zone.

  Next day, the Shaper Mother’s office was empty when Constance arrived. No matter, a list of duties had been sent through to her comtel. Star priority was given to compiling research notes for the mother to write a speech to be delivered on Memoryday. Its theme was the importance of authenticated memories: the State laboured on behalf of its sisters to sift out genuine memories from imposters which would confuse citizens. The irony of the subject matter wasn’t lost on Constance. The Nine had the power to classify a true memory as a rogue one, as she knew to her cost.

  Constance tackled her assignment standing up because the baby wouldn’t allow her to sit down. She smiled, thinking how controlling it was. A future candidate to join the Nine. By and by, her mind wandered, and she fell to considering Honour. As her life receded, the memory-keeper had been preoccupied by her relationship with her father. Constance once again wondered about her own father, and what part he might have played in her upbringing, given the opportunity.

  A catalogue of what-ifs circled in her mind.

  Might she have developed different skills? Might she have a different perspective? Might she have become a different person?

  “Constance, you look as if you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  Constance jumped. She hadn’t heard the Shaper Mother enter. Today, a shawl in a black-and-orange eye-print covered her tunic. The eyes were elongated, with a whorl of lash. Constance felt an immediate antipathy to the print. Two side-on eyes dangled from her earlobes.

  “Constance?” prompted the mother.

  “Waiting for inspiration, mother.”

  “Inspiration never waits for us, why should we wait for it? I was watching you for a moment, sweet child. You looked unquiet. Is there anything you’d like to confide in me?”

  “No, mother.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “No, mother.”

  A sigh. “I see.” The Shaper Mother traced a hand along the top of her head. The maternal note was stripped from her voice when she spoke again. “Speaking of watching, we know where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. Don’t think your activities have escaped our notice.”

  Did she mean her encounters with the Silenced – or her search for Harper? Please let it be the former, the lesser of two evils. Constance reined in the thought as soon as it occurred to her. Fortunately, the mother was still speaking and didn’t pick up on it.

  “Someone in the sacred state of babyfusion should be more prudent. But your comtel records show a regrettable lack of discretion.” She walked towards the inner office. “It’s time we spoke about the Nine’s plans for you. Follow me.”

  Chapter 25

  The leopard-print door peeled away from the wall. Biting her lip, Constance followed the Shaper Mother through it. The mother began to fuss with her wrap, unwinding it from around her shoulders and folding it. Constance fetched the onyx box for her skin and waited. Working as an assistant was a bizarre combination of responsibility for menial jobs and access to confidential information.

  “I only ask you to take care of work-related matters,” said the Shaper Mother. “Never anything to do with my private life. You don’t do my shopping, or deal with problems at my oneser.”

  Oops, she’d read her mind that time. She must be well rested.

  The mother allowed herself a tight smile. “Comparatively,” she said.

  Settled on her throne-chair, she indicated to Constance to approach. Their positions had an air of choreographed formality. Constance concentrated on emptying her mind, feeling it clear, the way furniture is lifted from a room. She had to be the gatekeeper of her thoughts.

  “We know you’ve been in regular communication with the Silenced,” said the mother.

  Constance blocked the relief that bubbled up. So they were unaware about Harper!

  “You demonstrate a certain ambiguity towards these foolish women,” continued the mother. “We’ve tolerated it – we see you occupy a unique position in their eyes. And it occurs to us that could be useful. As you know, you’re off the co-keeper programme. That’s a permanent decision. It won’t be reversed. However, the Nine is offering you a second chance. Constance, a wonderful opportunity has come your way. You’re invited to do something important for universal sisterhood.” A current of attention flew from the mother to Constance. It was as if Constance had been caught by the chin, and held there by the Shaper Mother. “Sweet child, we’d like you to make contact with the Silenced leadership. This movement hasn’t just sprung up. Some disaffected women are directing it. Women with a plan. The Nine needs to discover their intentions.”

  Unblinking, her tawny eyes bored into Constance’s: she felt the Shaper Mother’s willpower pouring through her. Acquiesce.

  “Why would they pay attention to me?” said Constance.

  The willpower stream stalled, before regrouping and flowing again. “Come, come, Constance, this is no time for modesty. We both know why you matter to the Silenced.”

  Constance owed a debt to the Shaper Mother. But what the mother was asking bothered her. Conflicted, she said, “I haven’t a clue who’s leading the Silenced. I wouldn’t know how to get in touch with them.”

  “Ah, but we know. The Ess has compiled a dossier. Not as complete as we’d like it to be – we can’t risk bugging her twoser. She’s sharp enough to spot any device planted there, and then she’d know we were on to her. Still, a certain amount of information has been collected. Much of it’s classified but I can give you access to some of the data. The sister leading the Silenced is a valued member of the community. Such a perversion of her talent pains us. You know this woman socially, but you must now form an ideological connection.”

  “If she’s as clever as you say, she’ll regard me as a risk. After all, she must know I work for you – it’s not exactly a secret. Anyone in Shaperhaus could tell her.”

  “How humble you are, dear Constance. Having you on board will seem like a stroke of good fortune. Oh, you can be sure she’s been watching you – I’m surprised she hasn’t made an approach already.” A weighted pause. “Has she?”

  �
��No! I don’t even know who you’re talking about. I’ve spoken to the Silenced a few times, but all they want to know is what my other was like. Nobody’s asked me to do anything.”

  “Believe me, this person will. You’re too big a catch for them not to try and hook you. Agree to everything, but report back on their plans. It allows us to lull them into a false sense of security. And then . . .”

  Constance looked at the mother as if she’d never seen her before. And then you pounce, she thought, deliberately allowing the thought to reach the mother.

  She made a dismissive gesture. “No state allows itself to be undermined. Steps must be taken. There’s no point in wounding the snake by a series of cuts – the head has to be struck off. With your help, we can remove all the Silenced leaders in one blow. Isolating one or two won’t put an end to this when there are others who’ll take their places. And believe me, an end will be made. This movement will never challenge the Nine.”

  Constance thought quickly. She was being asking to become a spy – here was the reason she’d been spared MUM. She kept her voice deliberately flat. “And if I supply you with information, my baby lives?”

  “Of course. But don’t look on it as a bargain. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to do something meaningful for Sisterland.”

  Constance couldn’t help herself. “But to worm your way into someone’s confidence, only to inform on them! It’s horrible!”

  “We must protect our way of life, Constance.”

  “Perhaps some of their ideas are worth looking into. You said it yourself: Sisterland is a work in progress.”

  “Sweet child, the wellbeing of our society depends upon harmony – that’s why our capital city was named for this virtue. Each of us must pull together. We hoped the Silenced would fizzle out, but the movement is growing. We can’t allow random elements to disrupt the whole. Group interests must take precedence over” – her mouth slitted – “individualism.”