About Sisterland (40 page)

“Love between a woman and a man was common in PS days. It wasn’t harmful. Or wicked. Or deviant. It was natural,” said Constance.

“Shame on you!” cried a voice.

“Shame!” echoed from row to row.

“There were many kinds of love between women and men. Romantic love was only one. There was also love between sister and brother. Between source and son. And between daughter and father.”

“Impossible!” voices called out.

“Not impossible. The memory-keeper, Honour 19,
 
knew it. She never forgot it. Before she discontinued, Honour
 
shared one final memory with me. It was about her father, who loved her. As she loved him back.”

Constance described the cakes Honour’s father baked, the way he took pains to pass on his skills to his daughter, and the bond between them.

“Women and men lived together with their children,” she said.

Her audience tested the words. “Women and men. Together.”

“Yes, it was a system which worked. It gave them satisfaction. They raised contented children. The Nine tells us community child-rearing is more efficient. But who wants to give up their baby? Even for Sisterland? Every source loves her child, and longs to keep it. Whether a daughter – or a son.”

A woman near the front stood up. A spotlight moved to her, and the crowd could see she was in the late stages of babyfusion. “I won’t let them have my baby. Girl or boy, I’m keeping it!”

“Me too!” cried another woman with a protruding belly.

The audience surged to its feet, en masse. “
We’ll keep them all!
” it roared.

Constance signalled for quiet. “And what of men? Do we carry on as before, with men? Or do we share the riches of this wonderful land with them?”

There were mutterings. Reading their unease, Constance understood that boy-babies were defenceless, and inherently appealing – but men fell into another category.

“Remember, sisters, boy-babies will grow into men,” she cried. “What’s loveable as an infant remains loveable in adulthood.”

The rumbles continued, however, and she gave way. She’d try again on another occasion.

Scenting her surrender, Patience’s voice soared out from the voicebox.
“We thank Constance for pointing the way towards a new Sisterland. Change is essential. But it must be gradual.
Now, sisters, brace yourselves for the release of a
synchronised moe: a G has been made available. All of us can share in gratitude for the golden era that’s about to unfold for our dearest Sisterland.”

A chocolate-brown canopy was lowered over the audience, a hissing sounded, and the moe was set loose. Inhaling, the audience sighed with pleasure.

Patience, holding a mesh bowl over her nose and mouth to obstruct the moe, pulled Constance off-stage. “You went too far. Nobody authorised you to push the Silent Revolution’s aims as far as you did.” Even though her voice was muffled, there was no disguising her aggrieved air.

“Leave her alone.” It was Goodwill, also holding a mask. She handed one to Constance.

Constance’s neck was flushed, and she could feel the blood pumping beneath her skin. “Doesn’t anyone understand? We can’t love our boy-babies, and carry on as before. Everything has to change now. Not somewhere down the line.
Now
.”

“Hold up your bowl,” said Goodwill, “otherwise you’ll be overcome with thankfulness. There’s a time and a place for it. But not right now.”

Constance did as she was told, but the moe wasn’t affecting her in any case.

Goodwill turned to Patience. “Constance is still finding her feet. You have to make allowances for her. She doesn’t belong to the Silenced.”

“Any more than Silence does,” said Constance. Breathing shallowly, she walked away.

As she dismounted from the stage, she saw the Peer Mother talking purposefully with the Scrutineer Mother, both with bowls over their noses. Constance halted to stare. Each had a red scarf knotted at her neck.

Chapter 34

ALERT! VILE NEWS ABOUT THE CORRUPT HABITS OF THE NINE HAS BEEN TRANSMITTED TO EVERY COMTEL. WE CANNOT GUARANTEE IT WILL STAY VISIBLE FOR LONG. SISTERS ARE URGED TO READ IT AT ONCE. DO NOT DELAY! THE SAFETY OF SISTERLAND’S BABIES DEPENDS ON IT!

The flashing message was posted on every public and private entscreen. It was impossible to miss. Constance was napping in her oneser when the entscreen sprang into life, posting the notice. Still groggy, she checked her comtel, and was invited to download a communication. It was a voice message – not the typically bland automated voice, but Goodwill’s. At first, Constance thought it was intended for her ears alone. But when
she replayed it, she realised this was a mass communication.

“
Dear sisters, you must brace yourselves for sorrowful news
,” it began.

Absorbing the contents, Constance began to tremble. As the shudders continued, she found herself unable to stay indoors, and threw on some clothes.

In the unit courtyard she passed sisters looking about in wide-eyed uncertainty, or standing in knots talking in hushed whispers, but Constance did not stay to join in their discussions. She needed the closest equivalent to fresh air that Harmony could muster. She made for the riverbank, where more sisters were clustered, staring at their comtels or muttering together. The aftershock was palpable.

The message on every comtel came from the Silenced leadership. It revealed the discovery of a horrific practice involving the Nine. They harvested blood from babies to keep them youthful: that was the wellspring of their extraordinary glow. A girlplace mother had exposed the appalling habit, confirmed by Gracious, who could no longer condone the abuse.

Upon admission to girlplace at the age of one, each baby was drained of a quarter pint of blood gradually during her first month – the maximum it was safe to extract. That was why sources were denied permission to visit. The blood was accumulated and stored for the exclusive use of the Nine, whose members underwent regular transfusions.

All at once, the storm broke.

“
Blood-suckers
!” howled a band of women.

From one side of the riverbank to the other, the reaction bounced.

“
Leeches
!”

“
Predators
!”

It was a spontaneous, communal moe-eruption.

Constance stroked the bulge caused by the child inside her. You didn’t have to be babyfused, or a source, to be filled with implacable fury against the Nine. But it helped. The nimbus encasing the state’s leaders – a defining characteristic – was caused by extracting the life-blood from Sisterland’s babies. There could be no excuse for their actions. The Silenced had unleashed a weapon against the Nine which, for all their power, those sisters were powerless to deflect.

The Nine was finished. Sisterlanders would never forgive this.

Modesty and Constance drank ocean tea in a corner of an eat-easy off Eternity Square.

“You’re enormous!” were Modesty’s first words. “You’ve ballooned since Memoryday.”

“I’m at an advanced stage of babyfusion,” Constance protested. “But feel free to make me feel self-conscious.”

“That’s only a minor moe. Nothing to lose sleep over.”

“It’s not a moe that ever troubled you, Modesty.”

“True. Thanks for meeting me. I know how busy you are.”

“Everyone’s busy. Setting up a new regime takes time and energy.”

Modesty lowered her voice. “Especially when the old regime isn’t willing to go quietly. Despite the baby-harvesting story, and blood banks in every girlplace raided by the peers. With the proof posted on entscreens. Remember the time we spoke about a miracle drug reserved for the Nine? And how supplies had dried up? Turns out, baby blood was the drug. That’s what they were missing. And that’s why they started losing their grip.”

“Gruesome! It makes me feel nauseous.”

“Me too. They started with the blood of boy-babies. And when that wasn’t enough, because boy-baby numbers were falling and their need kept growing, they started harvesting baby girls, too.”

“Modesty, did the Shaper Mother have baby-blood transfusions?”

“I don’t believe so. It was a Nine perk – the Sisters were greedy about it. You know, Constance, the day sisters tried to storm Sistercentral, I really thought some of the Nine would be torn limb from limb. I have to hand it to Patience and Goodwill – if they hadn’t calmed the mob it would have turned ugly.”

“Sisters aren’t prepared to tolerate the Nine any longer. They want new leaders, with a new vision for Sisterland. We’re starting to give sisters what they deserve, Modesty. Don’t you ever feel like pinching yourself? We’re living through an extraordinary cycle in Sisterland’s history.”

“It helps that so many mothers are jumping ship to join the new order. I wonder what inducements the Silenced are offering them?”

“Perhaps some of them believe in the Silenced Revolution. Or they’re just as offended by babies’ blood being harvested as everyone else.”

“Such a pearl, even now!”

Constance ignored the prick – the odd jab was inevitable from Modesty. “It’s too bad some of the mothers are still holding out. The Buzz Mother remains stubborn. And the Sigs Mother. But the Comtel and Scrutineer Mothers have come over to our side. So have the Thought-hatcher and Crafter Mothers. Most of the Mating Mothers are holding out. But the Peer Mother joined before Memoryday – that’s how the celebration was hijacked. The important thing, though, is ordinary sisters are behind us. The tide’s turning in our favour.”

“There’s a lot of ‘us’ going on here. You really have gone over to the Silenced, haven’t you, Constance?”

“They’ve been good to me.” Constance was defensive, and it occurred to her that she didn’t have to put up with Modesty’s impertinence. She had a position now, whereas Modesty was still jockeying for one.

“Are you one of the leadership?” continued Modesty.

“No. I do as I’m told.”

“I have to hand it to Patience and Goodwill: they make an effective team. Patience’s one determined sister, isn’t she? She kept that side well hidden in Shaperhaus. I wonder what it is she really wants.”

“A reformed Sisterland, of course. You’re always looking for the angle, Modesty.”

“Because usually there is one.”

“Here’s an angle you haven’t taken account of: Gracious. She’s onside with the Silenced. She’s the hinge opening the door to change.”

As if to prove her point, an announcement made over the entscreen in Eternity Square was carried into the eat-easy.
Calling all sisters. Gracious will make a public address on Wednesday at three o’clock. Sisters are advised to listen with the utmost care. Her speech concerns matters of national importance to Sisterland.

“Not another public address. No harm to your lot, Constance, but they’re obsessed with them.”

“This is different. Gracious is going to point the way forward.”

“We’ve had nothing but sisters pointing the way forward! For a Silent Revolution, you do no end of talking.”

“Not Gracious. She’s allowed her name and image to be used, but she hasn’t spoken publicly before. We haven’t heard Gracious in her own words. This will be a keynote speech.
Patience is thrilled – Gracious represents continuity. A
stepping stone between old and new.”

“That’s not all she represents. Gracious legitimises the Silenced. Though she can never lead them – not after the baby-blood scandal. She can keep issuing statements dripping with apology, but she’ll never truly be forgiven for it.” A hesitation, followed by a change of tone. “The scrutineer rumour-mill is buzzing with stories about differences of opinion between Gracious and Patience.”

Constance blinked. Modesty was well-informed. Then again, she always had been. “Don’t believe everything you hear on rumour-mills.”

“Only believe the entscreen, is that it?”

“I suppose it might seem as if the entscreen is overused. But it’s a way of explaining the various improvements in hand. We know this is a confusing time for sisters. We want them to feel reassured, and go about their business as usual.”

“
Smile All The While
,” offered Modesty.

Constance’s lips twitched, and Modesty pressed on.

“Patience versus Gracious. I don’t know how evenly matched they are.”

“Patience and Gracious are on the same side. Their differences are about the pace of reform, not the need for it. Gracious advises watchfulness and consultation, to ensure sisters are fully behind each new initiative. Patience believes there’s a time for caution – and a time for action.”

“I always saw Patience as an icon-polisher, not an iconoclast.”

“Perhaps she’s tired of icons.”

Modesty’s glance at Constance was sly. “Perhaps she’s becoming her own icon.”

Constance gasped. “Modesty, watch what you’re saying!”

“Just joking, Constance. Of course, Patience is making a superb contribution. She’s farsighted, but with the organisational skills to make it happen. She’s neutralised the Nine, hasn’t she?”