Free About Sisterland by Martina Devlin Page B

about mating pills. They make us more eager to perform, but the men who keep taking them never reach old age. One day, the man’s heart stops beating.”
    Constance told herself a man’s life was of less significance than a woman’s. Still, it seemed wrong to use them in this way. And there it was again. Another indicator that men weren’t clamouring to mate.
    “Don’t you want to do your duty to Sisterland?” she asked.
    “How is it my duty to mate with you? I don’t know you. I ought to have a choice about doing it.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact way, but his words made her defensive.
    “I don’t have a choice, either. You were assigned to me, just as I was to you.”
    “You have some choice. You could change your mind, and leave without mating. Or you could say I displeased you, and ask for a different man. I have no rights. I’m treated like an animal. Though that’s nothing new – it happened from boyplace onwards. That’s when you had us chipped as if we were beasts!”
    “It’s so your movements can be tracked. But I wear a comtel – I’m tracked, too.” She reached out a hand to touch him, but let it fall. “I won’t make you go through with mating. We can just talk till time’s up. I won’t breathe a word to the Mating Mother – nobody needs to know.”
    He inclined his head, as though accepting the bare minimum of what was due to him. It forced Constance to press on.
    “I know you’re not an animal. I’m sorry you feel –” She stumbled to a halt.
    What did it matter how he felt? Feelings were a barrier to progress. Besides, men had sacrificed their humanity by incessant warmongering, and by their addiction to capitalism which had made one per cent of the population not just rich but indifferent to the remaining ninety-nine per cent struggling. That’s what she’d learned in girlplace.
    “I know you think we’re beneath you,” he said. “All women do. But you can’t have men without women, or women without men. We’re interdependent.”
    “Only for babyfusion. Women don’t need men for anything else.”
    “And what if men said no? Where would Sisterland be then?”
    “It would be difficult,” admitted Constance. “But it’s a meet’s duty to attempt babyfusion with a woman licensed to become a source.”
    “Back to duty again. How can you talk to me about duty when only women are citizens of Sisterland? You use our labour. And give us nothing in return. We’re invisible to you. But we exist. We think. And we feel!”
    Constance’s certainties began to crack. Her silkenspeak training had taught her to mould information according to the message the Nine chose to convey. But he stripped down facts with no attempt to rearrange them. And while he was intense, there was none of the aggressive behaviour she had heard men engaged in. Indignation, yes, and conviction. But she would feel the same way in his position. If she could feel moes as freely as him.
    “How is it you have so many moes?”
    He considered. “I don’t remember much in the way of moes in boyplace. But when I went to work in the forest, they began to grow. In the fresh air, where there were no walls to fence me in, it was natural to feel. I try to curb my moes here in Harmony. I don’t want to draw attention to myself.” His nostrils flared. “I hope I don’t have to spend long in matingplace. A man and woman should mate outdoors, with the smells and sounds of the land about them. Not in these cubes. Where’s the joy or beauty in that?”
    “It’s not about joy or beauty. It’s about results.”
    “Joy and beauty matter. They can’t be set aside. Nature makes space for them – people should learn from that.”
    Such fire! It was unsettling. Constance retreated to the pop-up.
    “Have I displeased you?” he asked.
    “On the contrary, I’m impressed. But I’m not used to so much passion – it causes turbulence. We strive to be composed here in Sisterland. I haven’t encountered a moe