About Sisterland

by Martina Devlin

  “Why, your moe triggers are more sensitive than ever. And you have sympathy for the Silenced! Sweet child, resist their siren call.”

  With an effort of will, Constance erected a wall. “The moes are sparked by babyfusion. They’ll fade afterwards.”

  “Like the Silenced, you’re taken in by a symbol. I understand it. Symbols have potency. But they cannot be relied on. Just as Silence couldn’t be relied on. She left you, Constance. Left you without a backward glance. That’s the reality.”

  Constance gritted her teeth. “I know. I don’t care about Silence any more.”

  “Symbols have their uses, of course. They can be shaped this way and that. You were Silence’s other, you can have a hand in the moulding.”

  “I don’t want to mould anyone. I just want to be left alone to live my life.”

  “Is that really enough for you? I suspect you want more, much more, than that.” The tone hardened. “Support for the Silenced continues to grow. It must be checked. We know the leadership wants to recruit you – don’t try to deny it, we have other conduits of information. I’m going to offer you one last chance to infiltrate the Silenced and report back to us. Go home, Constance, think it over. I should warn you, your usefulness to Sisterland hinges on your answer. And if you’re not useful to Sisterland, what purpose do you have?”

  After work, Constance found Modesty sitting on a bench in Shaper Square. She stood out in the Sistercentral livery.

  “Were you waiting for me, Modesty?’

  “Maybe.”

  Constance sat beside her, and together they watched the action on the giant screen. There was no volume, but it was easy to see what was happening from the images. Children in girlplace were reading aloud from Beloved’s Pearls, their faces rapt.

  “Remember memorising her words of wisdom?” said Constance.

  “Who can forget?” Modesty slid a careful look at Constance. “Who’s allowed to?” She adopted a sing-song tone. “Numbers are an improvement on surnames. Surnames belong to an outdated idea called the family unit – but the State is our true family.” Another veiled look. Then she said, “Of course, there are numbers and numbers. I wonder who your source bribed to get you a low, three-digit one?”

  Once, Constance would have denied the possibility of corruption. Now, she knew better. “Someone in the registration division, I suppose. They’d be able to alert sisters to surrendered names.”

  “Surrender. It’s required from all of us. The great and the lowly. Speaking of the great, how far do you trust the Shaper Mother?”

  “Are you asking as a member of the Sistercentral staff?”

  Modesty fingered one of the tortoiseshell buttons on the front of her fitted one-piece. “A uniform is only what’s on the outside.”

  Constance studied her profile. She couldn’t tell what lay inside Modesty – she was hard to read.

  “I know you’re unsure of me. I’m ambitious, I don’t deny it,” said Modesty. “So I’ll set the ball rolling. I think the mother’s changed. She’s in a bit of a state. Before I left, she was finding it hard to deal with the Nine. For the first time, she let slip a few disapproving words. Some supplies those sisters rely on have dried up, or maybe it’s not safe to access them right now. Anyhow, she suggested the Nine might be losing its grip. Mistakes were being made. If you want to know what I think, there’d have been a crackdown on the Silenced long before now but for this issue about the supplies.”

  “What kind of supplies, Modesty?”

  “Some sort of miracle drug. Keeps them operating at peak levels, apparently.”

  “Can’t the scientists rustle up another batch?”

  “You’d imagine so. But it isn’t happening. Meanwhile, the Nine isn’t running on full power. Everyone says so in Sistercentral. Lucky for the Silenced.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Modesty?”

  “You need tipping off. Maybe you think the mother’s on your side. Especially if she doesn’t see eye to eye with the Nine. But I know her. She’ll always put Sisterland first. Always.”

  Constance left Shaper Square and headed for Gentle Street. She was on borrowed time – she knew that now, beyond a shadow of doubt. Whether it was losing its grip or not, the Nine was ruthless. And the Shaper Mother’s protection would cave in before it. The next time she was asked for information, and failed to supply it, she was finished. Confronted by evidence of menace and manipulation, she grew desperate to see Harper, who represented something pure and true. At the Rice-Wise counter, she studied the electronic display for that day’s choice of dishes, checked to see what her neighbours were eating, and ordered some toasted rice squares.

  “Oh, and a bowl of calcium soup,” she added. She should remember the baby’s needs.

  “Calcium soup? Don’t know as we have any.” Serenity 65438 was printed on the server’s tag. “I’ll check out back.”

  Constance watched her swing through the door into the kitchen. A rectangle of preparation area was visible, along with two backs. Both wore hoods. She kept her eyes trained on the door. When Serenity carried out Constance’s tray and set it in the designated area for collection, she caught a side view of one of the men. Just a patch of face between mouth and eyebrows was visible, but she was fairly sure it wasn’t Harper. She felt no instinctual pull towards this man. Besides, his nose wasn’t the shape she remembered.

  “No calcium soup, but we have dried calcium in the store cupboard,” said Serenity. “Not as good as fresh, but better than nothing. You could sprinkle it over your rice squares. You want some? I brought it out, in case.”

  Constance nodded, and accepted the phial.

  “Calcium soup has to be ordered in,” continued the server. “No problem, but we need to know a day in advance. Will I put you down for it?”

  “No, leave it. I’m not sure if I’ll be back this way.” She shook some flakes over her food. “Busy easy – you must catch a lot of passing trade, so close to the Hope Bridge.”

  Serenity shrugged. “Fits and starts.”

  “Is there just you out front?”

  “Jus’ me. I got two sets of hands out back dealing with the orders.”

  “Been doing it long?”

  “Three years. I was in an easy on the end of the Buzz line before this.”

  “I meant the two sets of hands. Have they been doing it long?” Serenity looked askance, and Constance added, “It’s well run. Experience shows. Last easy I ate in, it was new hands. Food was soggy, and they mixed up my order.”

  “Sloppy. Can’t abide it. One set of hands was here before me. Second set’s just arrived. But he’s a quick learner, I’ll grant him that. How can I help you, sister?”

  Another customer was at the counter, and Constance carried her tray down to her table.

  She ate languidly, watching and listening. Snippets of conversation drifted across the eat-easy.

  “Plan your work and work your plan, I told her, but she wasn’t listening. Can’t put an old head on young shoulders.”

  Then two events happened simultaneously. There was a lull, and Serenity swung open the hatch to the kitchen. A sentence floated out.

  “Deer are colour-blind.”

  It was Harper’s voice: no doubt about it.

  Relief and joy surged through Constance, loosening her limbs and causing blood to rush to the surface of her skin. She had found him! Against the odds, luck had gone her way. She rolled her head back on its neck, savouring the release from tension. Just a few yards separated them.

  Except now she had found him, how to make contact? She strained towards the closed hatch, willing it to fly open again, and for Harper to look at her. But it didn’t happen.

  Paying for her meal, she said to Serenity, “What time do you close tonight?”

  “Another hour.”

  “I’m sure you’re looking forward to going home and putting your feet up.”

  “Been a long day. But it’s a privilege to feed my sisters.”

  “D
oes everyone finish then?”

  “I didn’t say I finished then. That’s when the easy shuts. Takes us about a half-hour to clear up. I’m always the last out – can’t leave men to lock up. They don’t exactly have the reliability gene.” She snuffled, and Constance joined in. “They collect empty plates, stack chairs, and so on. They’re good for that.”

  Constance could find no pretext to prolong the conversation. Outside, she loitered along the street. As men weren't allowed on the Buzz, to reach Hutchtown they were obliged to walk, or be moved about in transers. That meant he could head off in any direction. She found a doorway to shelter in, and watched the easy.

  The last customer left, Serenity locking the door after her. The outline of a man appeared, and the blankout was activated. It wasn’t Harper: this man struggled to stretch his arm above his head to the controls. Soon after, she heard a door close, followed by footsteps, and a man emerged from behind the easy – there must be a staff entrance at the back. His build was too solid to be Harper.

  She stayed waiting, and the sound of a door opening and shutting for a second time carried across the street. Nobody came into view. That had to mean a laneway behind. Perhaps Harper used it to cut along to the transer pick-up points. She sprang for the back lane. Ahead of her, footsteps tapped out the rhythm of someone in a hurry. She wished she could call out to the man to wait. But it might attract the wrong attention.

  Another lane forked away from the first one, and the choice checked her. The footsteps had faded, there was nothing to guide her now. Staying on the right-hand track, she pelted along, trying to overtake him. The lane looped round towards the Buzz entrance. Not a man in sight.

  Downcast, she did an about-turn and trudged back towards the easy. The opening times would be posted outside, and she could try to catch Harper the following morning before he started his shift. It would be daytime, and less private, but it was better than nothing.

  Near the fork, the shadows crunched, separated, and a man stepped out.

  It was Harper.

  And yet not Harper.

  Beneath the hood she had never seen him wear, his face had a forbidding cast. All the same, a feeling came over her, so suddenly she had no inkling of its approach.

  She felt restored.

  Constance reached out to touch him, but he read her intention and held up a hand to stop her, beckoning towards the side of the unlit building where he had been standing.

  “Why didn’t you wait for me, Harper?”

  “All I knew was a woman was chasing me. I didn’t know it was you. I still wasn’t sure, even when I showed myself.” His voice was muffled because of the hood covering his mouth.

  “But you did show yourself.” She braided her fingers through his. “I’ve missed you. Have you missed me?” He nodded. “I babyfused, Harper. Part of you is inside me.”

  His eyes kindled, but he said nothing.

  “I was expecting some kind of reaction,” she said.

  “Why? It’s not as if I can be a father. I won’t even be allowed to see the baby. I don’t count.”

  “Still, it’s something we made together. You and me. Us.” He shrugged. She tried again. “Harper, you cared about me once, even if you’ve changed your mind. I know what happened: you refused Himtime with anyone else. I loved you before, Harper, but I loved you twice as much when I heard what you did. I still love you. Thanks partly to you, I have moes – spontaneous moes – that break through whether I want them to or not. And now I could never bear to go back to the way I was before.”

  When he still didn’t respond, she released his hand. Arms hanging loosely by his sides, he stared at the ground.

  “Say something, Harper. Anything. Tell me I’ve ruined your life, tell me you’re trapped in the city because of me, tell me why you’re behaving like this.”

  “It’s not safe for us to be together. Someone might report us.”

  “I’m willing to chance it. I’ll say I made you talk to me. If there’s any fallout, I’ll take it.”

  “You can’t protect me, Constance.”

  He was right, and she knew it.

  She cast round for a way to reach him. “I haven’t forgotten what you told me about the creatures in your forest.”

  “What did I tell you?” It was a challenge rather than a question.

  “You told me about the snowshoe hare. How its fur turns white for camouflage in winter, and rusty brown in summer. How its ears are shorter than those of other hares, and ferns and grass don’t seem to satisfy it because it steals meat from traps.”

  His lips twitched upwards. “I did tell you that.”

  A chirping came from her comtel, and Harper jumped.

  “Nothing to worry about. It’s just an alert, to remind me to take my pills.”

  “Why are you taking pills? Are you ill?”

  “They’re for babyfusion. I’d have to eat every half-hour if I didn’t take them. They keep me going between meals.”

  “But you’re OK otherwise?”

  “I’m OK. Did they hurt you at the Tower?” She pushed back his hood, searching his face for signs of injury, and his hair gleamed silver in the moonlight.

  “It’s not important.”

  “It’s important to me, Harper.”

  “The Mating Mother let the stifstatter loose on me.”

  “Charity.”

  “That’s the one. She gave me a few jolts. Enjoyed herself doing it.” Constance cringed, but he shrugged. “Women boast about their non-violent world. But they use force when it suits them. It made no difference. They couldn’t make me mate. That’s the weakness in their mating system: it only works if men go along with it. We could send it all crashing down.”

  “Harper, there’s something I have to tell you. They’ll never let you go back to your forest. They’ll keep you here in Harmony forever.”

  “I know that now.” His words came from a long way off.

  “If there was a chance to escape, would you take it?”

  “Escape from Harmony?”

  “Escape from Sisterland.”

  “But Sisterland is everywhere.”

  “It’s not. There’s a place called Outsideland. I don’t know where it is, except that it’s far away. The men who live there don’t wear hoods. They move about freely.”

  “How do you know?”

  “An Outsidelander is being held in Sistercentral. If people can sneak in, then people can sneak out. I saw this man. He’s different to ours. He’s …” She drew shapes in the air with one of her hands, searching for a way to explain him. “Independent.”

  “Is he much different to me?”

  Harper sounded jealous! Constance liked how readily the moe surfaced in him. “Perhaps not so different. You have freedom of spirit, too – it’s why you’re working in an eat-easy instead of in matingplace.”

  “The easy is grim. Hutchtown is worse again. But I could never go back to matingplace. Though it’s where I met you, so I should be grateful I spent time there.”

  “And there’ll be a child of ours to show for it, if the babyfusion sticks.”

  “What do you mean ‘if’, Constance?” His voice splintered. “Are you afraid you might lose our baby?”

  “There’s always a chance. Babydefusion is common. But the baby feels strong inside me – it wants to live.”

  He relaxed. “I’d have liked to show our child the forest.”

  He curved his free hand round her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. She shivered at the ease with which her skin remembered his touch.

  “Harper, you have to get away from here. Maybe you could find a forest in Outsideland. I know it wouldn’t mean as much to you as your own one. But you’d be free.”

  He brought his face level with hers, holding her by the arms. Urgent, he demanded, “Did you mean what you said about escaping?”

  “Of course I meant it.”

  “How?”

  “There’s a woman I know. She’s in a movement. They want to
challenge the way Sisterland is run.”

  “Why? Surely it suits women?”

  “Not all women.”

  “Why should she risk herself to help me?”

  “I think she’d do it for me. If she could.”

  “When?”

  “Harper, your fingers are digging into me!”

  “Sorry.” He released her. “When could they get me away?”

  “I haven’t spoken to her yet. It’s just an idea. I hate to think of you trapped in that easy.”

  “A lot of men are trapped in places they shouldn’t be.”

  “And I wish I could free them all. But let’s start with the one I might be able to do something for. Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  In the office complex behind them, a whistle shrilled: on-off, on-off. It reminded Constance of the time.

  “Is it all right for you to be out here, talking to me? Isn’t there a curfew for men?” A nod. “So I’ve landed you in trouble again?”

  “What can they do – send me to matingplace as punishment?”

  “But they’ll discipline you for breaking the curfew, won’t they?”

  “Suppose so. But they’ll know I didn’t leave the easy area – my chip tells them where I am. So they mightn’t be too suspicious. I’ll say I hurt my foot, and had to rest it before I could try to get back to Hutchtown.”

  “Will they believe you?”

  “Maybe yes, maybe no. I’ll live. Especially if I have hope.”

  “I won’t let you down, Harper.”

  “When do you think you’ll have news?”

  “Soon. Tomorrow, I’ll meet this woman – I’ll put your case to her. If she won’t help, I’ll find a different way. I promise. You’re not alone in Harmony, Harper. I’m with you.”

  “Except you’re not.”

  “Part of you is always with me.” She caught him by the wrists and laid his palms flat on her stomach. “I found you in the eat-easy, didn’t I? I didn’t let you vanish from my life.”

  “That’s true.”

  They gazed at one another.