About Sisterland (15 page)

“Constance, I’m memorising you. Every line, every curve, every nook and cranny of you.”

Moisture gathered behind her eyelids. They couldn’t be tears because tears were impossible. Nobody wept in Sisterland – not even when they lost their other. Her fingers reached for the corners of her eyes to check if they were damp. Dry. Perhaps it was the ghost of tears which tickled at her lashes.

He leaned forward and kissed her eyelids, and she forgot about being misty-eyed, or imagining she was. Her breath quickened, and she kissed him back. He ran his hands over her, his touch causing a tingle in her flesh that penetrated from skin to sinew and bone.

And then they were naked.

They paused to look at one another, and a shiver of desire crackled between them.

He entered her.

She winced, and only just stopped herself from crying out. The surprise of it! It hurt! The
Himtime
question-and-answer file had only warned her to expect discomfort. He stopped at once, and withdrew. But Constance didn’t want him to pull out.

Putting a hand on the nape of his neck and another on his hips, she eased him in. At first, his movements were tentative, and he watched for a sign that he was causing her pain. But already her body seemed to be adjusting. The entry pangs were less sore this time. Besides, see how his body fitted into hers. His thrusts gathered in speed. She made herself relax and keep breathing, as
Himtime
advised. But she did not follow its instructions to remove her thoughts to another place – she wanted to feel this sensation, to watch this man.

To her surprise, she found herself begin to move beneath him, joining in his rhythm, hooking her limbs around his. Why, it was almost like dancing. But almost at once he stiffened, groaned, and squeezed his eyes shut. Wetness flooded from him. The plunging came to a shuddering halt. She could feel his chest heaving against her breasts, the insistence of his heartbeat. After a moment, he opened his eyes, and smiled into hers.

It seemed to be over.

She was puzzled. Himtime hadn’t taken long. He had seemed to feel pleasure, yet she had only begun to share it towards the end. But she had wanted him inside her, she couldn’t deny it. Her hands had taken hold of his body, and guided him into hers.

She became conscious that he was still inside her, and it pleased her to realise they hadn’t yet separated. To accommodate his weight, she shifted slightly. But she must have made a sound, because he rolled off. A sense of loss fluttered but, before it took hold, he curled towards her. She felt his breath on her cheek, his fingers in her hair.

They lay there, at peace. A stirring beneath her breast-bone, and she was aware of some element quitting her body and hovering overhead. She watched the two of them beneath her: she was on her back, he was on his side, an arm across her waist, one leg crooked over hers. How interdependent they looked. Already, they seemed to be growing round one another – tethered, each to each. A pull of the invisible string attached to her breastbone, a falling sensation, and the overview was gone.

He lifted his head.

“Still memorising me?” she asked.

“Just checking you haven’t changed, Constance.”

“Could you really see nothing through the blindfold?”

“Outlines – not details, or colours. I’d never have known you have one green eye, and one blue.”

“My eyes are strange.” She was apologetic.

“They’re extraordinary. In a good way.” 

“Harper, what will they do to you when they find the seal broken?”

He didn’t answer.

“They’ll punish you, won’t they?”

“Maybe I’ll be denied exercise. Don’t worry about me.”

“But I do worry.”

“Then stop.” One by one, he kissed her fingers. 

It’s his gift to me, she thought. He understands why I needed it.

She lay back, looking at the ceiling. She could feel him against her, and knew he was almost ready to couple again. So some of the stories about men were true. She longed for more time with him. To watch him walk, sleep, eat, bathe, laugh, think, work. To become familiar with his voice, his body, his likes, his dislikes. His life. To let him take her by the hand through his forest, and point out the rabbit holes, the animal tracks, the places where male deer rubbed their antlers to mark out territory.

Time lost all meaning.

Until the bell.

They clung to one another.

“They’ll unlock the door and find us like this,” he whispered when the automated voice intoned, as usual.

“Aren’t we supposed to be like this?”

Their smiles were complicit. His gaze was loving on her face.

His eyes! He wasn’t supposed to see her. Constance uncoiled herself from Harper. “Your blindfold!” She lifted the strip of material, working at speed to retie it. It passed muster – at a distance.

The key turned in the lock.

She threw the pillow on the floor, snatching up her skin, and jammed it on her face.

The door swung open.

But where was the nail? She was sure she’d set it under the pillow after removing his blindfold. It was nowhere to be seen. She had to take it with her – she couldn’t leave Harper to deal with the repercussions.

Charity loomed in the doorway.

“I’m not dressed,” said Constance. “I fell asleep while I was resting afterwards.” She pulled on her clothes beneath Charity’s glare.

The nail! Where was the nail?

“Almost ready, sister. I’m still dozy.”

“You sound agitated.” Charity’s suspicions were aroused. 

“It’s because I fell asleep with a meet watching me.” Out of the corner of her eye, Constance saw Harper had one of his hands behind his back. She stood with her back to Charity. ‘Give it to me,’ she mouthed. He blanked her.

“Let’s go,” said Charity.

Constance looked from Charity to Harper. Deliberately, she stood on tiptoe, put her left hand on the back of his head, and pulled his lips down to hers.

“Stop that!” bawled Charity.

Constance’s right arm slid round Harper’s waist towards his back, her hand burrowing into his.

“Break it up! Now!”

Constance’s questing fingers found the nail, and she snatched it off Harper.

Trying to stop her, he jumped backwards. “No!”

“Don’t you dare say no, meet!” The stifstat was in Charity’s hand.

Constance had the nail, and he could not give her away. She tucked it up her sleeve, and walked past Charity.

Charity forged towards Harper, stifstat extended. “What makes you think you can say no, meet? Were you saying no to me?”

“He was saying no to me,” said Constance. “No to the kiss. Weren’t you?”

Harper’s head turned to track her voice.

“Answer her,” commanded Charity.

“You were saying no to the kiss,” repeated Constance. “You knew it was wrong. Didn’t you?”

“Yes.” The word was pushed out between his teeth.

“He didn’t like being kissed, Charity. You saw that. He tried to step away.”

“Can’t say I blame him. Although it’s not up to him to like or dislike anything. I’m reporting that disgusting mouth-sucking to the Mating Mother.”

“As you like. I want to leave, now. This room stinks of man.”

                                                                          A few minutes after Constance was back in the respite room, the Mating Mother marched up. “I understand you behaved inappropriately after mating.” Behind her was Sincerity, one of Charity’s helpers, who had escorted Constance away from the mating floor, and then reported her.

“What counts as inappropriate?”

“You kissed the meet.”

“I wasn’t aware kissing was forbidden.”

“We didn’t realise it had to be banned. Any right-minded Sisterlander would understand it’s unnecessary. Unhygienic, degrading, vile!”

Constance knew she had to defuse the situation. Benevolence was proof of the Mating Mother’s far-reaching powers. She assumed a horrified expression.

“Of course it’s horrible. All that drool! I found it revolting. My stomach turns somersaults just thinking about it. But someone told me babyfusion was guaranteed if you kissed. We hadn’t kissed once, over the five nights. As I was leaving, it occurred to me to give it a try. I did it for Sisterland.”

“That’s a lie about kissing. Who told you?”

“Benevolence 101.” Since Benevolence was already in Safe Space, the betrayal couldn’t hurt her. “The meet was unwilling,” she added. “I caught him by surprise.”

The Mating Mother beckoned to Sincerity who was listening unashamedly. “Fetch Charity.”

“She was doing a check on the mating cube. She said she’d be with you as soon as she was through.”

“Very well, tell her to come the instant she’s satisfied with her inspection.”

“I’m sorry Charity had to witness such a nauseating act,” said Constance. “But I believed Benevolence. She’s mated many times before.”

“Although with no success,” the Mating Mother snapped. “It seems strange you should regard her as an authority on the subject.”

Constance swallowed. “True, but I heard it from another sister, too. That’s why I believed it.”

“Who else?”

The Mating Mother was shaken by the kiss. It was clear, from the way she was conducting the interrogation in full view of everyone in the respite room.

“From my other. Silence 1999.”

The name shivered through the room.

Constance pressed home her advantage. “And Silence achieved babyfusion.”

Charity pushed her way through the huddle of women, planting herself in front of Constance. “We got a problem, mother,” said Charity.

“Indeed we do. Charity, did you observe this deplorable kiss?”

“Yes. Obnoxious. But there’s worse to come. The meet’s blindfold –”

Constance jumped in ahead of her. “I might have damaged it when I kissed him. He was alarmed, and broke away. I think maybe the seal might have snapped under my fingers.”

“No maybes about it,” said Charity.

The Mating Mother let out a gasp. “So he saw her face?”

Constance looked the Mating Mother straight in the eye. “No. The blindfold didn’t fall off. He didn’t see me.”

“Charity?” The Mating Mother turned to her.

“The seal was broken. That’s what I came here to report. The meet was wearing his blindfold when I unlocked the door. But it looked tampered with to me. I don’t believe this woman. It’s in her interests to lie.”

“This is intolerable, Constance 500!” cried the Mating Mother.

“I did it for Sisterland – that’s why I kissed him,” Constance stammered. “I only wanted to achieve babyfusion. But I didn’t take off his bindfold. I’d never do that!”

“Spare me your excuses. The Shaper Mother will be hearing about this. Your friends in high places won’t be so indulgent towards you when they read my report.” She clapped her hands, and a page scurried up. “Bring this woman’s clothes to her. And the mating-urge decompressant drink.” She glared at Constance. “As soon as you’ve taken it, you’re to leave. Charity, can you spare someone to stay by her side until she’s safely off the premises?”

“I’ll do it myself,” said Charity.

The Mating Mother turned back to Constance, whipping her train out from under her feet with a crack that cut through the air. “You’re barred from the Tower. I won’t have you under my roof ever again. You should never have been licensed to mate. You, Constance 500, are a wicked, corrupt, depraved young woman!”

Chapter 13

Constance followed the river home through the moonless night, the salty taste of the decompressant drink on her tongue. She had considered refusing to swallow it, but Charity had stood so close that she could smell garlic on her breath and threatened force-feeding if she didn’t take it voluntarily. Constance had decided it wasn’t worth arguing.

As she walked, Constance was aware of her body in a new way. She was tender, still, but her flesh hummed from being with Harper. She was glad there had been no time to wash because she wanted his scent to cling to her for as long as possible. Even now, she could feel the pressure of his mouth against hers, the imprint of his fingers on her flesh. She imagined light and warmth must radiate from her. Surely, if she met someone, they would see the glow she imparted?

It couldn’t be like this for everyone, because her source shuddered at the memory of mating. But some other women must feel this way, too. Silence hadn’t been repulsed – she had said nothing negative about her time in matingplace. Indeed, she had smiled more than usual afterwards. Constance had thought it was because of babyfusion. But perhaps her other had experienced this mating pleasure-pain, too.

Remembering Harper’s nail, she transferred it from her sleeve to a pocket. At least she had spirited that away. But would they punish him for the broken seal on the blindfold? Probably. No, definitely. She cringed for him, in the Mating Mother’s power. Charity’s, too. But she couldn’t help him. Next time, she’d make sure to –