About Sisterland (44 page)

On the third day, eager to let Harper hold their baby, she told the sourcingplace staff she wanted to go home. They tried to dissuade her, but she explained she would avail of special transport for her daughter’s sake.

“It takes time to recover from birth-activation procedures,” said the medico who delivered her. “You’re one of the fortunate few with a private room, and help at the touch of call-screen. Avail of it while you can.”

Privileges were seductive – there was no doubt about it. It was something Constance told herself she’d guard against when she was in the whole of her health. Right now, allowances had to be made.

“Stay on in sourcingplace for a third night,” Goodwill urged, while Devotion was out buying snacks for them.

“I can’t. Harper will be miserable. He’s separated from me and his daughter.”

“If he cares about you, he’ll understand.”

“I must admit, my body aches.”

“How about if I stop by the threeser and answer all of Harper’s questions in person? Would that persuade you to stay in sourcingplace for another night?”

“Would you? That would make me feel a little bit better about him. He’s being left out. It isn’t fair. He hasn’t even seen our baby yet – just a tiny image on someone else’s comtel screen.”

“Of course I would. I’ll go now if you like. I can’t see Devotion coming with me, though.”

“She thinks it’s none of Harper’s business,” said Constance.

“In fairness, Devotion can’t tear herself away from sourcingplace – she’s fallen unconditionally in love with the baby. Who’d have predicted it?” Goodwill pulled a comical face.

Constance couldn’t help laughing, although she winced at the spasm it shot through her body.

“I’ll go to see Harper now, before Devotion comes back and tries to talk me out of it. Although the way she’s going, all we can expect out of her is babytalk from now on.”

“Tell him I love him,” said Constance.

Goodwill tried to hide it, but a scandalised expression settled into the grooves on her skin.

Just then, Patience arrived to inspect the new arrival, Devotion entering the room behind her.

“Your daughter will be an icon, Constance,” said Patience.

“She’s a baby,” said Devotion. “Time enough for anything else.”

Patience paid no attention. “What will you call her? Silence has an appropriate ring.”

“I’m leaving our daughter’s name to her father,” said Constance. “He’s choosing it.”

Patience arched an eyebrow.

“Have you met Harper, Patience?” Goodwill intervened. “He’s an impressive man. I believe we could work with him.”

“Not just yet, Goodwill. Our focus must be on consolidation. Cooperation will follow, in due course. When do you suppose you’ll be well enough to speak again in public, Constance?”

“Soon. I have ideas I want to share.”

“Such as?’

“Skins. I don’t want my daughter to grow up wearing one.”

“But what about her face?” protested Devotion. “She’ll get wrinkles!”

“It’s a cage. I don’t believe we need them. They stop us reading moes on one another’s faces. Some women are already going without skins. And the sky hasn’t fallen in.”

Patience touched her bare face with her fingertips. “Going skinless feels odd to me, still. I don’t feel able to do without it every day. But I’m building up to it. It’s important to lead by example.”

Devotion struggled with what she was hearing. “But their faces!”

“Will age. In line with the rest of their bodies. It’s natural,” said Patience. “Skin removal won’t be mandatory, Devotion. In time, we hope sisters will see the benefits outweigh the disadvantages. Goodwill isn’t convinced yet, are you?”

“Not yet,” said Goodwill. “But it’s wonderful to see women taking personal responsibility.”

“Without skins, we’ll become more experienced at channelling moes,” said Constance. “I’m going to deliver my next speech without a skin on. In fact, I’m leaving it off permanently from now on. I took it off when I arrived in sourcingplace, and haven’t had it on again since. My baby’s first day in Sisterland was day one of my new skin-free life.”

“Skin removal is certainly something you could discuss in your speech,” said Patience. “Though your audience may not be as big as previous ones. Our sisters seem a little weary of public addresses.”

“That’s because you have so many of them,” said Devotion.

“I’ll stand on park benches to talk about skins if that’s the only audience I can reach,” said Constance. “Sooner or later, I’ll get through to them. I know I will.”

Patience nodded. Then, as if the idea had just struck her, she suggested, “You should bring your daughter along. What a compelling image that would make!”

“She’s too young yet for public events – she needs time to grow.”

“It’s never too soon to serve Sisterland.”

“Patience, she’s a few days old!”

“Our children aren’t intended for our own personal enjoyment. They’re only on loan to their sources.”

Constance heard a ringing in her ears. She cuddled her daughter closer, conscious that if Patience said the word, she could be snatched away. Eyes tight shut, the baby stirred and nuzzled towards her. Protectiveness rose up in Constance. But fear nudged into its slipstream.

“Constance’s just had a baby,” said Goodwill. “Time enough for such talk.”

Patience held up her hands in mock-capitulation, before saying she had to leave.
Goodwill asked for a lift to Constance’s threeser, since Patience had a private vehicle permanently at her disposal. “To pick up some bits and pieces
for Constance,” Goodwill explained. Harper wasn’t
mentioned.

Devotion lingered after the others had gone. “They’ll be talking about you,” she told Constance.

“I can’t bring my baby along when I speak in public. She’s too small.”

“Of course it’s wrong. But they won’t see it that way. Isn’t turning her into a symbol part of the plan?”

“I guess. But I didn’t think it would happen so soon. I just thought of it as a way to be with Harper, and now our daughter.”

“A high price, ladybird. Take care your daughter doesn’t feel used, when she’s older.”

Chapter 38

Harper was showing his daughter an apple tree in the private garden attached to the unit. “See the shape the branches make? Isn’t that prettier than all the bangles and earrings those women who visit you wear?” She cooed in her father’s arms. “In springtime, there’ll be white blossom. But no apples on this tree, I think. Why don’t we plant a fruit tree of our own? We could watch it grow, from a sapling to a tree that’s as tall as the roof. Would you like that?”

A vehicle pulled into the courtyard, and he stepped out of sight. A woman he didn’t recognise emerged, followed by Devotion and Goodwill. They were attentive to a fourth woman, who creaked as she moved, like the apple tree. He recognised her from the entscreen: it was Gracious. The first woman appeared to have high status, judging from the way the others behaved towards her. Even Devotion approached her with wary respect. She must be a member of the Co-Equals, thought Harper – the ruling body which had replaced the Nine.

He heard them discuss a woman who had shaken her fist at their vehicle.

“Too much moe – they’re not used to it. It makes them giddy. Disobedient, too. I can’t believe she didn’t apologise. She said she just didn’t think personal carriers were fair,” said the sister he didn’t recognise. “Moe deregulation happened too suddenly. We ought to add suppressants to the water, the way the Nine did.”

“But spontaneity has come back to us,” said Gracious. “Surely some impulsive behaviour – a little recklessness – is a small price to pay?”

The unfamiliar sister sniffed. “Yesterday, I saw a sister walking along the street crying uncontrollably. When I asked her what the matter was, she said she didn’t know. She just felt sad.”

“Sometimes people do,” said Goodwill. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s abnormal for people to be contented all the time – that’s one of the wrong turns the Nine took.”

“Too much moe slows productivity.” The tall sister was disapproving. “We’ll have to take action. When people are emotional they can do rash things. Surely you see that, Goodwill?”

“I’ve heard some sisters are starting to turn up late for work, or question their superiors’ decisions,” admitted Goodwill. “I’ve also noticed more sisters skipping queues.”

“Our unit is noisier,” said Devotion. “But I can’t say I object. Sometimes it was too quiet.”

Gracious spoke up. “Patience, has the Silent Revolution changed its mind about free, limitless access to moes? Already? That didn’t take long!”

So, the important sister was Patience, thought Harper.
Instinctively, he drew the baby closer to the shelter of his body.

“We believe in deregulation in principle,” said Patience. “But some of our sisters need to learn how to deal with moes. Perhaps moe-handling lessons. I’ll raise it at the next Co-Equals meeting.”

“Gracious, we shouldn’t keep you standing around,” said Goodwill. “Let’s go inside to Constance. Lean on my arm.”

Harper knew he ought to go indoors so they could meet the baby – that must be the reason why these dignitaries were calling. But he lingered outside, still talking to the tiny girl in his arms about the tree they sheltered under – a dwarf compared with the ones in his forest, but just as beautiful, he told her. Prominent Sisterlanders held no interest for Harper. Nor did he care for the thought of his daughter being exposed to them. Though he knew he’d fight a losing battle to prevent it.

Constance appeared in the garden, calling his name. “Gracious wonders if she could meet our daughter, Harper.”

“I saw her with the one who calls herself the First Co-Equal.”

“Yes, Patience is here, too. You need to be polite to her, Harper.” He scowled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But she matters. Don’t antagonise her. Please. For me.”

“If she’s the First Co-Equal, what does that make Goodwill?”

“Her deputy.”

“Second Co-Equal?”

“Don’t be mischievous, Harper. You know very well there’s no such title. Only Patience is numbered – the rest of the eighteen are Co-Equals. Plain and simple.” 

“Not quite equals, then. Just like you and me.” Harper stretched out his arms to pass the baby to Constance, intending to stay outside.

But she shook her head. “No, you carry her up. I want everyone to see how much our little girl loves her father.”

“Including Patience?”

“Especially Patience.”

As they walked indoors, Constance remarked, “I haven’t seen Gracious since the baby. She’s ageing visibly. I don’t know how long she’ll be able to carry on working with us.”

He didn’t reply. But in the foyer, he hesitated. “Do I need to put on a hood?”

“Not in your home.” She laid a hand between his shoulder-blades, encouraging him forward.

“Here she is,” Devotion sang out. “Here’s my angel!” She hurried forward to tickle the baby in her father’s arms, and was rewarded with a gurgle.

Harper inclined his head to the visitors but kept his distance, until Gracious spoke directly to him.

“You’ve bonded with your daughter,” she told him.

“I’m her father,” he answered.

She was older than any sister he had met before, yet her eyes glowed at his answer, and he couldn’t tell if she approved or disapproved of it. Nor did he care. She beckoned, and he carried the child over to her.

Gracious rested her palm against the velvet skull, and closed her eyes, smiling. Everyone watched her. Abruptly, her eyes flew open, and the smile collapsed into a semi-circle of surprise. But she recovered herself, and trailed an index finger along the baby’s cheek.

“What?” demanded Patience.

“Nothing. She’ll lead a fascinating life,” she said. “The sights this tiny creature is destined to see!”

“Surely you can intuit something about her future?”

“I told you what I sensed, Patience.”

“I get the impression you know more than you’re saying.” Patience turned her attention to Harper. “Why doesn’t he give the child to someone else to hold? Why must he keep her in his arms?”

“He can’t bear to let our daughter out of his sight. He’s taken to childcare far better than me,” said Constance. Patience pursed her lips, and Constance found herself gabbling. “Even when she sleeps, he hovers by her cradle listening to her breathe, or marvelling at the way her hands curl and uncurl. He’s absolutely besotted with our baby.”

“She’s not just your baby, you know,” said Patience. “She belongs to Sisterland.”

Harper stiffened, but was sidetracked by a question from Gracious.

“I understand Constance is granting you the privilege of naming the child. Have you reached a decision?”

Patience answered for him. “It would be fitting to call her Silence.”

Harper’s face grew stony. “She has a name. It’s not Silence. That was never considered.”

“I see.” Patience was equally unyielding. “You must have an exceptional name in mind, to reject Silence. May we know it?”