“You deserve some memorial.”
“It’s sweet of you to make the effort. But I don’t mind about the names. My memorial will be this world.”
As she spoke the words, Himoti’s eyes ceased to focus on the scene before her. The world would indeed be a monument to her and her vision, more than the council knew, more even than she had revealed to Su Li Hoy, her closest confidante. Only in her diary and notes was the whole truth to be found.
The situation had looked bleak when the crew emerged from suspended animation to find themselves stranded thousands of light-years from Earth. Hopes of founding a viable colony rested on the spaceship’s identification of an inhabitable world. But then came the discovery of the all-pervasive pollen, with its estrogen-mimicking structure. Male fertility dropped to zero, and even if conception took place, women’s bodies were so saturated that male embryos could not develop in the womb.
The Celaeno had been part of a colony mission, carrying only equipment and personnel for the life sciences. Without the other engineering disciplines, the stranded crew did not have the tools to create a self-sustaining, high-tech society. However, they did have the best biology resources of 23rd-century Earth, which was all Dr. Himoti needed. As the ship’s chief genetics consultant, she had a plan.
The neoeugenicists back on Earth had been brilliant, but their work in bioengineering extrasensory perception was illegal. News had been strictly controlled, even after the law caught up with them. Himoti had been a member of the secret government review committee. Thus, she was one of the few people who had access to the records and the only member of the Celaeno’s crew who was aware of the extent of the ban against using them.
Psychic healing was the key. This was the talent Himoti that had bioengineered into the children created in her labs—something that would be inherent in the new population. Not all would display the ability, and some would have it more than others—but there would be enough.
Because of the estrogen-mimicking pollen, there could be no men—no male animals of any Earth species. But it would not matter. Already, some of the children had the psychic-healing ability to a sufficient degree to induce spontaneous cloning in animals—especially necessary since all the native fauna was poisonous to humans. But more was to come once the population grew large enough. There would be a few—the rarest and most talented—who would be able to go one step further, who would not merely clone, but step inside the cell nucleus and deconstruct its DNA. They would be able to imprint new patterns copied from a third woman and, therefore, create unique individuals with two genetic parents. These gifted ones, the imprinters, were the only part of the plan that had yet to materialize. Everything else was done.
Himoti smiled as she thought of what she had conceived: a world of women, kinder and gentler than the one they had left behind. That was why she had revived the neoeugenicists’ forbidden experiments, why she had concealed information about their legality, why she had blocked work on any other solution to the male-fertility problem, why she had blended the available genes to remove distinct racial types. When the town council tried to stand in her way, she had bulldozed through them or simply ignored their decisions. Small wonder that they would not name the town after her. But Himoti knew she was right.
This new world would not make the same mistakes as the last. There would be one gender and one race on the planet—no divisive causes for conflict, no wars, no superstitions, no religions, no dictators or kings. The inhabitants would live rich lives in tune with nature. The culture would be shaped for people, not machines.
Relationships would be based on friendship and respect, without lust, possessiveness, jealousy or inane infatuation. She remembered her three husbands. They had all been bastards, and she had been blinded by love, enough to marry them, enough to waste her time on them—energy and effort that would have been better used in her work. Without men, her life would have been so much easier.
Su Li Hoy’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“There was something else at the council meeting.”
“What?”
“Another attempt to introduce legal recognition of relationships, with particular regard to children.”
“Not that again!”
“I’m afraid so. You managed to marginalize the concept of marriage back when you had more influence with the council. These days, people aren’t so ready to listen to you. Also, I don’t think anyone back then really believed that the psychic healing would work. Dual parents seemed to be a wild fantasy. But with news going around that one of the children might be able to imprint DNA, some people are rethinking the issue.”
“Were you able to block the motion?”
“Yes. Jean Smith wasn’t happy. She accused me of endorsing your homophobia.”
“Me? Homophobic? After I created this world?”
“She said that the absence of men on the planet didn’t mean that stable relationships would be less important to society.”
“She was spouting the U.N. Space Agency line,” Himoti said contemptuously. “And the preference for stable couples in colony teams. UNSA even had the gays and lesbians lined up two by two. Do you know, the main reason I married my last husband was to get a place on a colony ship?” The sideways look she received brought a smile back to Himoti’s lips. “Well…that and the temporary insanity of lust.”
Su Li Hoy tactfully returned to the topic of the council debate. “Jean Smith wondered whether you’d been hoping the children would be celibate.”
“Of course not. What I don’t want is stifling, soulless monogamy. It’s an historic hangover—solely due to male domination of women. It makes no sense on this world. The children will base their relationships here on openness and equality, not possession.”
The door to the control room opened for a young technician clad in a white lab coat and surgical mask. The face above the mask was light brown, with dark brown eyes and a wisp of almost-black hair showing. The description would match any of the children. With so little of her face on view, it was just as well that the technician’s name, Sue Beaumont, was stenciled on the pocket of her gown. Dr. Himoti could not restrain a smile. The children who worked with her were starting to wear their lab clothes all the time, to mark themselves from the rest of the population. She suspected that some even slept in their masks. They were also taking to calling themselves the Sisterhood.
Partly for the benefit of the new arrival, Himoti went on, “Marriage reinforces the belief that you have the right to control someone else’s sexual expression. It’s immoral. Exclusive relationships lead only to jealousy and resentment. I hope that nobody in the labs would become so absurdly fixated on one other woman—and certainly not expect to have the relationship recognized by the authorities if she did.” Himoti gestured Beaumont forward. “What is it?”
“Please, ma’am, I’ve got the results on Jill Neilson.”
Dr. Himoti’s eyes dropped to the report. Immediately, all other thoughts were forgotten. It was the news she had been waiting for, the final step in her plan. “This is excellent. She really is our first imprinter.”
The technician nodded. “I knew you’d be pleased.”
“This confirms that we won’t ever have to clone humans. This world will have a proper society.”
“Would cloned humans not be...proper?” Beaumont’s voice reflected her confusion.
“They would be undesirable. You need new, unique people to have new ideas. If everyone were the same as her mother, you would have stagnation—soulless monotony.”
Over the technician’s shoulder, Himoti caught Su Li Hoy’s eye and smiled. Like soulless monogamy. She knew her friend would get the reference.
Beaumont nodded and left. Himoti watched her go and then turned back to the window, ignoring Su Li Hoy’s questioning look. They had things to do and people to talk to. They needed to get more information and to make plans. But for the moment, Himoti immersed herself in a vision of the future stretching out ahead. She wo
uld not see much more of it. Her ninetieth birthday was approaching, but her dream of utopia would succeed. Nothing could stop it now.
6 July 101
A row of blank monitors greeted Chief Consultant Beaumont and her deputy, Sister Kallim, when they arrived in the control room. Only the security lighting was on. The Chief Consultant stood at the center of the room and considered the lifeless equipment in silence. At her shoulder, Sister Kallim gave a distinctive drawn-out sigh like a leaky compressor, which generally meant that she was thinking rapidly and not keen on the conclusions she was reaching.
A junior Sister had been brushing imagined dust from a console when they arrived and now stood fidgeting at the other side of the room. Only her eyes showed over the top of the gauze mask, but from the way they flitted about, it was not hard to read her anxiety. She flinched noticeably when Beaumont’s gaze fixed on her.
However, the Chief Consultant was willing to gather all the facts before deciding whether to be angry, and she spoke in a calm voice. “You are Novice Pruzansky, are you not?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you tell us exactly what happened?”
“Er…yes, ma’am. This morning, half an hour ago, I switched on the fifth pod, and there was a bang from...” The young woman pointed toward a sealed hatch on one wall. “And all the monitors went blank. That’s all I did.”
“You noticed nothing else unusual?”
“No, ma’am.”
“And the equipment was working all right yesterday?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chief Consultant Beaumont drew a deep breath and looked toward her deputy. “What do you think?”
“Sounds like a blown fuse.”
“Can we fix it?”
“Depends on what blew the fuse to start with. But in here...” Sister Kallim’s voice trailed off as she paced around a set of lifeless terminals, shaking her head. “I doubt it.”
“Can’t it be repaired?” the novice blurted out.
“You heard what Sister Kallim said,” Beaumont spoke evenly.
“But if—”
The words cut off sharply as the Chief Consultant raised her hand for silence. Both pairs of eyes fixed on her expectantly. Ignoring them, Beaumont turned and stared out the window, weighing her options.
The imposing façade of the council hall faced her on the other side of the road. Politics and power. Recently, it had become more and more common for the town council to challenge the authority of the Sisterhood. To date, it had been a standoff, but with the loss of the lab equipment, the balance of power would shift. The Chief Consultant’s jaw hardened. It was her responsibility to ensure that Himoti’s legacy was not lost. The lab breakdown had been half-expected for years, and she had a plan.
She turned back to her white-clad colleagues.
“There is nothing to worry about. It is as Himoti foretold. These labs were not really for us, although we’ve been lucky enough to have their use for a while. These were tools from Celaeno to help the Elder-Ones build the new world. The Elder-Ones have all passed on, their work complete. Himoti foretold that one day, this equipment would cease to function, but it would not happen until we no longer needed it. Obviously, that time has come. This is a day for rejoicing. We have more than two hundred Cloners, fourteen Imprinters and no shortage of women who want daughters. We do not need this lab. If anything, I am amazed that it has lasted for so long.”
The other two digested her announcement.
“So what do we do with these rooms? Keep them as a monument to the Elder-Ones?” Sister Kallim asked eventually, ever practical.
“No. These rooms were made to be used by the followers of Himoti. They will continue to do her work, but their function will change.” Beaumont spoke confidently. Showing any trace of doubt would be fatal in the inevitable battles ahead. “Himoti made it clear that her followers should not take partners. However, we live among the ordinary population. Temptation surrounds us, and many of us fail.”
Novice Pruzansky glanced down sharply. It was a good bet that her mask was hiding red cheeks. Beaumont chose to ignore the blatantly guilty conscience; it was not a high priority.
She went on. “We can remove the equipment and turn this building into accommodation for the Imprinters and the Sisterhood. We will live here, on sanctified ground, pure in the love of Himoti and free from transgression. Also, the Imprinters are such a rare gift. It is too dangerous to risk losing them, especially now that the labs are gone. Here, they can be protected by the Guards.”
Sister Kallim joined her by the window and took her turn in contemplating the building across the street. “Might not some women on the town council think that this is a cynical ploy on your part to mitigate any loss of influence? They might think your main motive is to keep a firm grip on the Imprinters, to bolster the power of the Sisterhood, now that the labs are out of use.”
Behind her mask, Beaumont grinned. Although the deputy’s words had been delivered with a deliberate lack of emphasis, there was no mistaking her meaning. Sister Kallim might lack initiative, but she had an uncanny ability to put two and two together. Sometimes, Beaumont would swear that her deputy was able to read minds.
“Some might think that.”
“You’re not concerned?”
“What could they do? The Imprinters have to come to us for training. We alone understand the books the Elder-Ones left for them. No one else can determine who has enough of the healer sense to be an Imprinter. If we say the Imprinters would work better under our continual supervision, how could we be challenged?”
“Perhaps not directly, but the council could get us in a battle over funding.”
“Not if we start charging an imprinting fee from the women who come to us wanting children. It’s justifiable in terms of the building’s upkeep and the training school, especially if the council tries to cut our funding.”
Sister Kallim nodded slowly. “An independent income would be nice.”
“More than nice. The Sisterhood would be free from outside coercion and other people’s attempts to reinterpret Himoti’s teachings.”
During this exchange, the novice had been listening with a frown lining her forehead. The Chief Consultant shot a quick glance in her direction. It was doubtful that the young woman had caught much of the political implications, but it would be wiser not to continue the discussion with her as an audience. A slight shift in topic was a good idea. Beaumont raised her voice into declamatory mode.
“Himoti’s teachings—ensuring their observance is the Sisterhood’s sacred duty. Her wisdom is the only true guide for the children of Celaeno. When all the Sisterhood are dwelling under this roof, we must be especially vigilant that those outside do not deviate from the path. In this, I only wish that it were possible to have the Cloners live here as well. But there are too many of them, and it would not be feasible for the farmers to drive their animals through the streets, bringing them here. Yet letting the Cloners travel around freely...” Beaumont broke off. “I worry that one might be tempted to clone a woman, in defiance of Himoti’s teachings.”
“It would be wrong,” Sister Kallim agreed wholeheartedly.
“It would be an abomination. I have heard some say that Himoti was very good at telling us what we should and should not do but very poor at explaining why. In my experience, she would explain, but we were not able to understand her reasons.” The Chief Consultant’s eyes traveled to novice Pruzansky. “I must have been about your age, and standing on this very spot, when Himoti told me why we should not clone humans. I had just brought her news of the first Imprinter. And she told me that cloned women would not be proper humans. They would be soulless monstrosities.”
The furrows of confusion at the top of the novice’s nose had gone, replaced by wide-eyed awe. As the years went by, Chief Consultant Beaumont was becoming increasingly aware of the reaction and was now starting to play on it deliberately. There were so few remaining who had even seen Himoti; let alone tho
se who remembered speaking with her.
She continued, “It has taken me many years to understand exactly what Himoti meant, but now it is clear to me. A soul is unique and indivisible. A mother might pass to her cloned daughter all her physical parts, but she cannot bequeath her soul. And without a soul, the offspring would be a woman but not a human, alive in name only. This would also explain why we may eat only animals that have been cloned; they have no souls.”
Chief Consultant Beaumont nodded at her own words. These were the sort of teachings that must not be lost to the world. It was her duty to ensure the survival of the Sisterhood. The political maneuvering was distasteful, but taking control of the Imprinters was essential for the moral purity of the world; otherwise, Himoti’s dream might be lost. She drew herself up; there were things to do. After a faint nod to the novice, Beaumont swept out of the room, with Sister Kallim trailing in her wake.
As the door closed, she heard the young woman quietly offering a prayer of thanks to Celaeno.
10 October 158
The building site was thick with churned mud. It was the natural state for a building site to be in, Chief Consultant Pruzansky thought wryly; it did not seem to matter whether it rained or not. She spared another glance at the hems of her companions’ white robes. Her own was certainly no better.
Sister Singh also was clearly aware of the mud. “I wonder if we should have given a bit more thought to it when we were debating lengthening our gown to the ankle. The argument that it would look more imposing has just lost some of its weight with me.”
“It is fortunate that visiting building sites does not normally form part of our duties,” the Chief Consultant agreed. She paused at the top of an earthen embankment to survey her surroundings. “And, of course, this is no ordinary building site.”
“No, ma’am, indeed not,” young Novice Mayot joined in fervently.
The two older women briefly caught each other’s eye. Irony was wasted on the young. But then the scene before them—the foundation trenches and partly built walls of white stone—claimed Pruzansky’s attention, and a feeling of awe engulfed her.
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