About Sisterland

by Martina Devlin

  Harper caught sight of Constance and smiled, lighting up for her. She went to him, and his arm circled her waist, drawing her close. But she had glimpsed the sadness in him, watching their daughter with this robin doctored so that it would stand a human’s touch. Even so, it would not survive for more than a few months. It could not live in captivity. Sisterland’s scientists could achieve much, but not that.

  “Where did you get the robin, Devotion?” asked Constance. “I thought Goodwill talked you out of having caged birds years ago.”

  “There’s space in your threeser. It’s not as cruel to keep one here. Besides, see how much Faithful likes it.”

  On cue, Faithful crowed, raising a rosy face to her parents.

  “We can’t keep it, Devotion. It wouldn’t be right. Harper?”

  “No. But perhaps we could all go somewhere and release it. How about that, Devotion?”

  “It won’t live as long. That isn’t kinder really,” said Devotion.

  “Kindness can be misplaced.” He looked at Constance as he spoke.

  After Faithful was asleep and Devotion had gone home, Harper decided to take a walk in the unit garden. He didn’t invite Constance to accompany him. By and by, she went looking for him, and found him hunkered down, letting soil spill through his fingers.

  “What’s the matter, Harper?”

  “I broke a co-worker’s machine today. The one for sucking leaves off the trees. I took it off her, and hurled it on the ground – it smashed into pieces. I said leaves should be free to fall, the way nature intended. She reported me to my progress-monitor.”

  “I suppose you’re in trouble now. Don’t worry, Harper, we’ll sort something out.”

  “Surprisingly, the monitor agreed with me. She said she’d make a recommendation to the Parks Mother.”

  “Well done. Perhaps you’ve started something. Maybe next year leaves will be allowed to fall off the trees in Harmony. Won’t Faithful have fun trying to catch them as they fall!” She studied his face. “But I don’t understand why you’re so upset. You made your point.”

  He dug his hands into the soil and left them there, staring at the earth.

  Constance wanted to tell him that she had made sacrifices to be with him – some of the Co-Equals regarded Harper as her little weakness. But she held back. After all, his life was constructed round a more complicated set of compromises.

  Pain crouched inside him, she knew that. And she regretted it. But she had convinced herself that his pain was tolerable. It would uncoil and stretch if he went back to live in his forest – after all, he’d have to leave her and Faithful behind. The pain wouldn’t vanish then, but would bite in a different way.

  If only Harper could learn to enjoy his life in Harmony. After all, he had learned to work alongside women in the parks’ division, in a part-time role that gave him time to care for Faithful. He had learned to rub along with Goodwill, to appreciate Devotion. He had learned to negotiate Harmony, not just geographically but in the myriad ways he had to deal with the city. But he had never learned to accept his life there. Always, even on the best days, he did no more than tolerate it.

  Constance and Harper never talked about this in any meaningful way. If she raised the subject, he insisted that he was satisfied. But she was aware that Harmony did not supply what he truly needed for happiness. His pleasure in being with Constance and Faithful could not overcome his pull to the forest.

  Constance blanked out her concerns. She was happy with this life. She had exactly what she wanted.

  Chapter 40

  Harper arrived home from work, his gardening tools in a bag slung over his shoulder. Constance could hear the breath tear through his body.

  “You’re shaking, Harper. Did something happen?” All at once, she realised he was alone. “Where’s Faithful? I thought you were collecting her.”

  “Devotion is keeping her overnight. I said we needed to talk.”

  “This sounds serious.” She could see a tic throbbing above his jawline. “Let’s take a walk and discuss whatever’s troubling you. We could go down by the riverbank – you like it there.”

  “Stop it, Constance. Just listen, for a change. Devotion told me what you’re up to. She overheard Goodwill and Patience.”

  Caught out, Constance backed away. She’d hoped for more time, to prepare a reason for Harper. He followed, eyes turned to flint.

  “How could you even consider it? She’s only a little girl. It was bad enough when you started having her onstage with you. I told you I didn’t like it. But you did it anyway. Even though you know it’s propaganda. But this is so much worse! It’s a mass lie!”

  “Maybe Devotion explained it wrong.”

  “And maybe you’re the one in the wrong. Constance, this is our daughter. A child. Not a tool to be used in your cause.”

  “Harper, you need to understand. This is about leadership. And leaders have to harden without losing tenderness.”

  “What kind of brainwashing is that! You were able to think for yourself once, Constance. Back when we first met. But you’ve let yourself be indoctrinated. Can’t you see the risks with this hideous scheme? It’s inexcusable!”

  Constance’s brain was teeming. She bent down and picked up a small object from the floor. It was one of Faithful’s toys – a furry fawn with a dappled stomach. She remembered the day they had chosen it. Her eye lit on the lilac baby blanket that was once hers. She remembered how touched she had been because Devotion had kept it for so many years. Memory was important, she’d always known that.

  Harper took the fawn off her, and threw it aside. “It’s true, isn’t it? The Co-Equals want to plant a false memory in everyone. To make them believe Faithful is Silence’s child. A daughter who survived Silence’s fall from the bridge. And you’re only her guardian. As for me – I’m nothing.”

  Constance didn’t speak.

  He crowded in on her. “I’m not surprised you can’t bring yourself to admit it. But I want to hear it from your mouth. You’ve agreed to this. Haven’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why, Constance?”

  “It’s the final part of the strategy.” The words came out in a rush.

  “That’s not what I’m asking. Why would you go along with it?”

  “I can’t stop them. At least this way I have some influence. Patience won’t always be in charge. Some of us are talking about replacing her. I’m playing a long game here, Harper.”

  “You’re playing a dangerous game. The stakes are too high. Pull out – now.”

  She shivered, and wrapped her arms around herself.

  He watched her with compassion. But there was an air of finality in his gaze, too. “We have to leave this place, Constance. We have to take Faithful away with us.”

  “To your forest?”

  “Not the forest. It’s a long way from Harmony, but it’s still in Sisterland. We have to get right away from here. From this society you think is close to perfect. But I know is bogus. Just as controlling as it was under the Nine. We need to leave Sisterland. This false-memory plan sickens me to the core. But even without it, I can’t stay here any longer. I’m desperate to be somewhere real. Where leaves fall, and rot, and sink back into the land. Where slugs crawl over flowers, and take bites out of them. Where birds live in the wild – not in cages. Where they find twigs lying about, and use them to make nests. Where animals burrow into the earth. You sisters talk about the beauty of the world you’ve created. But it’s artificial – quality-controlled, weighed, and distributed in line with some group-agreed directive. I’ve tried. For your sake, and for Faithful’s. But I can’t survive in this fake world a day longer. I have to leave or I won’t be able to carry on breathing. You have to leave because you’ll become something misshapen and ugly if you don’t. And Faithful has to leave because they’ll twist her, too. But if you won’t come with us, we’ll go without you.”

  Her vision blurred. She stared at Harper, trying to separate out his featur
es, and put them back together again – struggling to recognise her lover in this stern stranger. “You’d leave me? After everything we’ve been through together?”

  “I’m leaving Sisterland. Not you.” Harper’s silvered eyes fastened onto hers. “Come with us, Constance. Let’s all go away together. You, me and Faithful. We could make a life somewhere else. Away from here. In Outsideland.”

  Constance flinched. Outsideland was a drastic step. If she went with him it would be impossible to return. She might never set eyes on Devotion again, or Goodwill. She would never see the nooks and corners of Harmony which reminded her of Silence. And she’d lose any chance of helping to give shape to Sisterland. He was asking too much of her.

  “I can’t, Harper. Don’t you know how important my work is here?”

  “You’re useful for now. But you’ll be shucked off as easily as Gracious.”

  Constance thought of the Co-Equals dinner they had organised for Gracious, and the presentation. Gracious had looked bewildered. It had happened so suddenly. Patience had sneered behind her back about her intuition having failed Gracious. But Constance found herself defending Patience now.

  “Patience explained why we needed to stand her down. She said Gracious had served Sisterland for many years, but it was time to give others a chance to be agents for change.”

  He made an impatient gesture. “There’s nothing here for us, Constance. Nothing here for Faithful. Let’s just go. While we still can.”

  “How?”

  “Use your silkenspeak. Tell them you have a request, in return for the sacrifice Sisterland asks of you. We need a few days away together: one last time as a family before the memory implant. They won’t refuse you. It’s not in their interests. We’ll choose somewhere near the coast. That’s when we’ll make a run for it.”

  “What if we don’t make it? We’ll lose everything!”

  “What if we do make it? Think what we’ll gain!”

  “I’m frightened, Harper. I don’t know what’s out there.”

  “Me neither.”

  “But it might be a better place for you. It won’t be better for me.” Uncertainty threaded her voice. “I’m needed here. Outside, I’ll have nothing.”

  “You’ll have me.” He seized her by the waist, animated in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. “Imagine what the world might be like outside Sisterland. No barriers. No demands. No lies. It might be harder in some ways, Constance. But it would be a free life. That’s worth something.”

  “We’re free here.”

  “I know I’m not. I know Faithful won’t be. And if you believe you’re free, you don’t understand what freedom is.”

  She recognised the truth in his words. Temptation and fear assailed her in equal measure.

  “You think it will be like your forest. There’s no guarantee. It might be desolate. It might be violent. You think you’ll be surrounded by nature – you see yourself breathing in air so pure it slices your lungs. How do you know Outsideland will be anything like that? How do you know it even has trees?”

  “I don’t. But I’m willing to risk it.”

  “What about Faithful?”

  “She’ll be happy with us. I don’t want her growing up here. Being part of this. Turned into a living lie.”

  “Couldn’t you wait for things to improve? Sisterland is still evolving.”

  His hold on her loosened, but he tried once more in a voice grown weary. “Imagine what it might be like for the three of us in Outsideland. Use your imagination, Constance. Don’t let it wither.”

  “How can you be sure you want what’s out there more than this?”

  “I don’t know anything for sure.” He let his arms fall to his sides, and took a step back from her. “I had a pet squirrel in my forest. I fed it, stroked it, loved it. But it was still my pet. Here, I’m yours.”

  “Don’t say that, Harper. Don’t be so hard on yourself. On us. Look, let’s take that trip to your forest we used to talk about. I promise I’ll make it happen this time. We could stay for a few months. Maybe we could even arrange to split our time between the forest and Harmony. I’ll talk to the Co-Equals about it.”

  Shoulders hunched, he walked to the window, straining for a glimpse of the treetops. “They wouldn’t let us stay in the forest. They’d tell you they couldn’t manage without you. And you’d believe them. You haven’t been listening to me, Constance. We’re not free here. Every day, we fade a little more.”

  She threw an arm over her eyes, blocking out the sight of him. “I don’t want to leave. I’m making a difference here.”

  No further words were spoken for a time.

  At last, he looked back into the room at her. “I love you, Constance, but I can’t stay in Sisterland with you any longer.”

  It was the first time he had said he loved her. Always, Constance had wanted to hear him speak of it. Now, his love had the finality of farewell.

  “What will I do?” she wailed.

  He trained his eyes on her in a look which did not waver. Even now, the hope in them was a gift to her. She understood what he was telling her.

  Choose.

  “If it wasn’t for Faithful, I’d go with you,” she whispered. “How can we take a child to Outsideland?”

  “It’s because of Faithful we must go.”

  Constance tried to picture what living in Sisterland without Harper would be like. She’d have Faithful – no matter what he said, he wouldn’t be able to take their daughter away unless Constance was willing to let her go. And she never would. She’d have her work. She’d have Devotion and Goodwill. Life would go on. There’d be compensations.

  Then she dared to imagine the world he was conjuring up. A world beyond Sisterland. Unknown. Foreign. Terrifying. But with possibilities.

  Harper sensed her indecision. He left the window, moved towards her and cupped her chin in his palm. “Say yes.”

  And it hit her, with the power of seduction and the directness of truth. There was no choice but to leave Sisterland. Not for Harper’s sake, or even Faithful’s, but for her own. Constance hovered at the point of no return, and tumbled in.

  “Yes.”

  It did not feel like a departure. Rather, an arrival.

  GLOSSARY

  Babyfusion: pregnancy

  Beloved: Sisterland’s founder

  Beloved’s Pearls: A book advising children how to be good Sisterlanders

  Blankout: blinds

  Bodies: fitness instructors

  Boyplace: training camp for boys

  Buzz: light rail system

  Co-Equals: Ruling body which replaced the Nine

  Co-keeper: a new class of memory-keeper without personal experience of the memories they share

  Comtel: a communications tool with a small screen worn on the left thumb. It acts as a messaging service and is also a security device, admitting wearers to work and the home

  Egglight: egg-shaped, portable source of light

  Els: elements, the unit of currency

  Entscreen: TV with channels controlled by the Nine

  Flicker: someone who works in Moe Express dispensing emotions

  Girlplace: school and living quarters for girls

  Himtime: mating

  Keeper (also memory-keeper): a cohort of the oldest people in Sisterland who pass on authorised memories

  Listeners/Listening: counsellors/counselling sessions where indoctrination is reinforced

  Matingplace: where women mate with men

  Meets: men chosen to mate

  Medshop: pharmacy

  Mindmap: read minds

  Moe: emotion

  Nine: Sisterland’s ruling body

  Oneser: apartment for one person

  Other: life partner

  Pearl: someone who is prim and proper

  Peers: Sisterland’s police

  Pop-up: a bed

  PS days/era: Pre-Sisterland

  Scrutineer: guard

  Shadow-moeing: flashb
acks to emotions no longer freely available

  Shaper: a thought-shaper, part persuader and part propagandist, trained to put the most positive spin on all Nine decisions

  Shaperhaus: shaper headquarters

  Sig: a signifier or identity strip lasered onto the outer wrist of a woman’s right hand which gives details such as name and occupation

  Silkenspeak: Sisterland propaganda

  Sistercentral: seat of government

  Skin: face mask worn to protect women from the environment

  Source: mother

  Sourcingplace: maternity hospital

  Stifstat: weapon which sends electric shot into the brain, causing temporary paralysis

  Threeser: three-person apartment, extremely rare

  Thought-cruncher: someone who disposes of unsuitable thoughts

  Transer: electric-powered carriers in which men are transported

  Twoser: apartment designed for two people

  Voicebox: loudhailer

  Wheeler: a tricycle

  Interview with the author

  Q: Can you reduce About Sisterland to one sentence?

  A: I can reduce it to one word: extremism.

  Q: Where did the idea for the novel come from?

  A: It sprang from a book called Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1860-1935), an American writer, feminist, social activist and lecturer who urged economic independence for women. Her ideas were radical and ahead of their time. She also wrote a chilling short story about madness called The Yellow Wallpaper. She isn’t particularly known for humour, but Herland is a satire, and very funny. It was written in 1915, and tells the story of three male explorers who stumble on an all-female community in the Amazon jungle and are amazed to discover it’s a utopia. Anyhow, it set me to thinking. And the more I reflected, the more I decided that an all-female community wouldn't be utopian. Quite the reverse. And then I had to explain why.