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guess the rules don’t apply to you.”
    “I never knew rules were so flexible, Modesty.”
    “Welcome to the real world, sister.”

Chapter 4

    Constance had never been inside matingplace. But she had a fair idea of what to expect. Even before reading the Himtime file. After Silence had gone forward for babyfusion, she had told Constance what happened during mating. It had sounded repellent, and Constance had said so. But Silence had disagreed: mating was forceful, she had said, but not in an unpleasant way. The act of creation took energy, that was all. A hint of a smile had played on her lips, and Constance had felt excluded. Quickly, Silence had reassured her that it wasn’t real intimacy – just a bodily function. Still, Constance had puzzled over that ghost of a smile.
    Thanks to Silence, Constance knew things not included in the Himtime guide. That she wouldn’t be expected to hold hands with a man, as she did with Silence. Nor would she lay her head on his shoulder, as she did with Silence. There would be no whispered words of affection. No leaving one another small gifts to find. No putting their arms about each other, swapping secrets. No sharing a pop-up bed all night long, waking to the sound of one another’s breathing.
    In fact, she wouldn’t share any real closeness with this man selected for her by the Mating Mother. But she was required to spend time alone, in private, with him. And this would be a first. Interfacing with men happened at a superficial level: watching from a distance as they laboured at jobs demanding mindless repetition – never more than three together because men were not allowed to congregate.
    Silence had told her mating took place in near-darkness, and that the man sweated and grunted during it. Certainly, those noises were unpleasant, she said, but other aspects of the procedure were less so. For example, while their bodies were harder than a woman’s, the sensation was not unattractive. Firm flesh felt agreeable against a woman’s body, according to Silence. It provided a sense of safety, which was irrational, and must be a genetic reflex. She had stroked Constance’s hair, describing the mating that had led to her babyfusion. Telling her she would understand when her time came.
    But Constance’s time was already there. And it was too soon.
    As she returned to the special projects floor, the progress-monitor beckoned to her.
    Tone clipped, Patience said, “The Shaper Mother has sent instructions to take you off the co-keeper programme temporarily.”
    “Yes, sister.”
    “Such a waste of a place. There’ll only be twelve co-keepers now, when we planned for thirteen. Speaking of waste, your records show you haven’t vacated the unit you shared with your other. Is there any reason for the delay?”
    “I haven’t been allocated anywhere else to live.” It was impossible to find accommodation in Harmony except through official channels.
    Patience tutted. “How remiss of the unit-allocators. It’s inefficient to have one person living in a twoser. Contact them before you leave, and make sure they understand yours is ready to be reassigned.”
    “Yes, sister.”
    Patience gave her a narrow look. “The mother has requested a oneser for you in the same zone. I see you live by the riverfront, in Oblong. Onesers are rarer than rainbows in that part of Harmony. I must say, the mother is taking a remarkable interest in your welfare. Run along, Constance. Don’t delay, obey! ”
    It was a line from the obedience song all Sisterlanders learned at girlplace.
    Don’t fight, do right!
    Don’t wallow, follow!
    Don’t delay, obey!
    Constance made contact with the unit-allocators at once, and was told she’d be moved out within the week. Then she left Shaperhaus, and stood for a few moments in Eternity Square, wondering where to go. A packing session at home didn’t appeal. Knowing she had to move out of her twoser left an aftertaste in her mouth. The twoser connected her to