The Testaments(47)

Why am I taking your existence for granted? Perhaps you will never materialize: you’re only a wish, a possibility, a phantom. Dare I say a hope? I am allowed to hope, surely. It’s not yet the midnight of my life; the bell has not yet tolled, and Mephistopheles has not yet turned up to collect the price I must pay for our bargain.

For there was a bargain. Of course there was. Though I didn’t make it with the Devil: I made it with Commander Judd.



* * *



—

My first meeting with Elizabeth, Helena, and Vidala took place the day after my trial by murder in the stadium. The four of us were ushered into one of the hotel boardrooms. We all looked different then: younger, trimmer, less gnarled. Elizabeth, Helena, and I were wearing the brown sack-like garments I’ve described, but Vidala already had on a proper uniform: not the Aunts’ uniform later devised, but a black one.

Commander Judd was awaiting us. He sat at the head of the boardroom table, naturally. Before him was a tray with a coffee pot and cups. He poured ceremoniously, smiling.

“Congratulations,” he began. “You have passed the test. You are brands snatched from the burning.” He poured his own coffee, added creamer, sipped. “You may have been wondering why a person such as myself, successful enough under the previous corrupt dispensation, has acted in the way I have. Don’t think I don’t realize the gravity of my behaviour. Some might call the overthrowing of an illegitimate government an act of treason; without a doubt, many have had this thought about me. Now that you have joined us, it is the same thought that others will have about you. But loyalty to a higher truth is not treason, for the ways of God are not the ways of man, and they are most emphatically not the ways of woman.”

Vidala watched us being lectured by him, smiling a tiny smile: whatever he was persuading us about was already an accepted creed to her.

I took care not to react. It’s a skill, not reacting. He looked from one blank face to another. “You may drink your coffee,” he said. “A valuable commodity that is increasingly difficult to obtain. It would be a sin to reject what God has provided to his favoured ones through his bounty.” At this we picked up our cups, as if at a ceremonial communion.

He continued: “We have seen the results of too much laxity, too much hunger for material luxuries, and the absence of the meaningful structures that lead to a balanced and stable society. Our birth rate—for various reasons, but most significantly through the selfish choices of women—is in free fall. You do agree that human beings are at their most unhappy when in the midst of chaos? That rules and boundaries promote stability and thus happiness? You follow me so far?”

We nodded.

“Is that a yes?” He pointed at Elizabeth.

“Yes,” she said in a voice squeaky with fright. She was younger and still attractive then; she hadn’t yet allowed her body to engorge. I have noted since that some kinds of men like to bully beautiful women.

“Yes, Commander Judd,” he admonished. “Titles must be respected.”

“Yes, Commander Judd.” I could smell her fear from across the table; I wondered if she could smell mine. It has an acid smell, fear. It’s corrosive.

She, too, has been alone in the dark, I thought. She has been tested in the stadium. She, too, has gazed into herself, and has seen the void.

“Society is best served by separate spheres for men and women,” Commander Judd continued in a sterner voice. “We have seen the disastrous results of the attempt to meld those spheres. Any questions so far?”

“Yes, Commander Judd,” I said. “I have a question.”

He smiled, though not warmly. “Proceed.”

“What do you want?”

He smiled again. “Thank you. What do we want from you in particular? We’re building a society congruent with the Divine Order—a city upon a hill, a light to all nations—and we are acting out of charitable care and concern. We believe that you, with your privileged training, are well qualified to aid us in ameliorating the distressing lot of women that has been caused by the decadent and corrupt society we are now abolishing.” He paused. “You wish to help?” This time the pointing finger singled out Helena.

“Yes, Commander Judd.” Almost a whisper.

“Good. You are all intelligent women. Through your former…” He did not want to say professions. “Through your former experiences, you are familiar with the lives of women. You know how they are likely to think, or let me rephrase that—how they are likely to react to stimuli, both positive and less positive. You can therefore be of service—a service that will qualify you for certain advantages. We would expect you to be spiritual guides and mentors—leaders, so to speak—within your own womanly sphere. More coffee?” He poured. We stirred, sipped, waited.

“Simply put,” he continued, “we want you to help us to organize the separate sphere—the sphere for women. With, as its goal, the optimal amount of harmony, both civic and domestic, and the optimal number of offspring. Other questions?” Elizabeth put up her hand.

“Yes?” he said.

“Will we have to…pray, and so forth?” she asked.

“Prayer is cumulative,” he said. “You’ll come to understand what a lot of reasons you’ll have to give thanks to a power greater than yourselves. My, ah, colleague”—he indicated Vidala—“has volunteered to be your spiritual instructor, having been part of our movement since its inception.”