Crewel
‘Welcome to training,’ the holograph says with a smile. ‘Being called to serve the Guild of Twelve is an honour and with honour comes privilege. The Western Coventry wants to ensure your transition into your new life as a Spinster is smooth and joyful. Each of you will be assigned a mentor during the training process. She will answer your questions and provide guidance on appropriate behaviour and dress.’
I look around the aisles. The other girls’ eyes are glued to the vlip. Pryana catches my eye and grins.
‘Arras depends on girls like you,’ the actress in the vlip continues. ‘The Guild is a complex organisation charged with the care of our entire world, and you are a vital piece of our oligarchy. During training you will be observed as you complete a variety of tasks designed to test your skill, precision, and dedication to preserving the integrity of Arras. Your work will be carefully supervised as you learn how to read the specific patterns of our world, and your behaviour will be monitored by security personnel and audio surveillance to ensure the safety of everyone in the compound. This is precious information given to you in confidence of your allegiance to the Guild of Twelve. Each of you was brought here because you exhibited the potential to become a Spinster, but your placement and position within the Coventry will be made based on the observations of our specially appointed training panel.’
A few of the girls murmur in surprise at this news. They must not have been appointed mentors yet. I almost feel sorry that some of them have left everything they know and love behind to wind up as servants. Almost.
‘Rest assured that once you have been called by the Guild, you have a place here. There are opportunities for every girl’s skills in the Western Coventry, and regardless of where in Manipulation Services you are ultimately placed, you will enjoy many of the privileges allotted to Spinsters. Due to the sensitive nature of your training, it is impossible for you to return to civilian lives, but you will each have a home and job here from this day forward.’
‘What exactly does that mean?’ Pryana hisses beside me.
‘It means’– I lean in so only she can hear – ‘that some of us might wind up scrubbing kitchen floors.’
Her eyes widen, but she shakes her head in disbelief.
‘Ever ask your maid how she landed a job cleaning your toilet?’ I ask.
‘I will now.’
I can’t imagine anyone could be charming enough to prompt a former Eligible to reveal her rejection. It’s one thing to be catty about others’ misfortunes but harder to admit your own.
‘Your duties will be assigned based on skill level. There are always opportunities for advancement for loyal Spinsters of the Guild,’ the holographic woman continues. Behind her an enormous machine flickers into view on the screen. It’s a loom, like the one they presented me with in testing, only bigger. Gears and wheels grind together silently, connected to a series of intricate silver tubes. As she speaks, sparkling strands weave across it in a mixture of gold and other colours. I know from experience that the gold is time, and when I focus hard enough to see the weave around me, these strands flow across, forming bands. The other strands weave through the bands, forming a tight, colourful tapestry.
Before this moment, I’ve only seen looms during testing, and then I spent so much time ignoring my compulsion to touch the weave that its subtlety was lost on me. Now it shimmers with life. But as I watch, the image on the screen changes. The gears of the loom adjust, zooming in on a portion of the weave on the loom. First, the fibres suggest an aerial view of a neighbourhood. Then the weave is focused more closely until it reveals the image of a street. And finally, the weave reveals a family sitting inside their home. The vlip then winds the image back to the complex weave it first showed us.
‘Spinsters work hand in hand with the men who oversee the Guild of Twelve. In the Western Coventry compound, your work will be focused on basic weaving, maintenance, and Crewel work. Our compound is responsible for food and weather, and our most advanced Spinsters handle special issues specific to our sector. You were each transported to this facility based on your aptitude tests. Should you develop skills in other areas, the Guild may issue a transfer of assignment at any time. All four coventries work together to maintain the physical integrity of Arras’s weave and to ensure our world is bound together in safety and prosperity. Each coventry is carefully located to provide optimum control over the weave, and while each has specific tasks assigned to the women working its looms, all are of equal importance. Advanced Spinsters may perform Crewel work, a form of manipulation that adds to Arras and controls elements crucial to our survival.
‘The peace and prosperity of Arras are enabled through your work on the looms. Following patterns strictly to ensure the metros function smoothly, and monitoring the weave for evidence of deterioration, allow us to catch dangerous behaviour and conditions before they can affect the safety of our citizens. Special techniques have been designed to clean and renew threads damaged by aberrant tendencies. We work closely with academies across the world to catch deviants at a young age. This ensures a crime- and accident-free population. We rely on you to report any irregularities found in the weave in a timely manner.’
So that’s what Cormac meant when he laughed at me in the café. Arras isn’t as peaceful as the Stream and officials would have us believe, at least not naturally. Whatever this procedure is that cleans strands, I’m sure it’s what they used in Romen after my disastrous retrieval. Would citizens feel as safe knowing deviant behaviour exists but is merely wiped away from recollection? Or that their children’s threads can be cleaned at any time if a teacher expresses concern? For the first time, I’m glad I’m not a teacher put in that impossible situation. And I understand the gilded cage of false windows and concrete they keep us in. We can never go home with this knowledge.
The vlip fades from the holographic message to a slideshow of images from across Arras, drawing my attention away from this revelation. I’m glued to the images now, but to my disappointment, the metros on the vlip look the same as Romen – concrete, sky towers with thousands of windows spiking up from the metro centre, and small houses and stores dotting the perimeter in perfect spirals. The plants are the only parts of the landscapes that seem to vary. In Romen, we had grass and looming elm trees, bushes, and carefully preened flowers in yellow and white. But these metros have palm trees, pines, ferns, and tall yellow grass; these are plants I’ve only seen on screens during academy lessons. The differences are minute, but seeing all of Arras before me is exciting.
‘Welcome to the Western Coventry and may your hands be blessed,’ the woman’s voice concludes.
The final image is one of a towering complex that I’ve seen dozens of times in academy. It’s where I sit now: the Western Coventry. Several girls squeal with delight but I feel the weight of the concrete and brick pressing down on me. There’s nothing exciting about the compound. It’s walled. Industrial. It’s what it stands for – the promise of power and privilege – that thrills the others. But all I see is the lack of windows and how it rises like an endless cage into the cloudless sky. No one can ever escape it.
‘You don’t look so good,’ Pryana whispers to me as the vlip fades away. ‘Did the images give you motion sickness?’
I shake my head, genuinely pleased by her concern. ‘I’m fine. It’s just been a long few days.’
‘Well, I for one am ready to get on those looms. I’ve been dying to since testing,’ she says, her coffee-black eyes sparkling at the prospect.
‘You haven’t got to try them out yet?’ I ask, more than a little surprised.
‘No,’ Pryana confirms. ‘So far it’s been measurements, etiquette lessons, and small-group vlips. Let’s see. We’ve been reminded at least a hundred times about the importance of chastity to maintain our skills.’
‘Not much of a chance that will be an issue here.’ I laugh at her annoyed look.
‘Are you kidding me?’ she says, rolling her eyes. ‘Have you seen him?’
> She points to the door, and I look over to see Erik waiting to usher us to our next session. Enora is nowhere in sight, but I guess most of the Spinsters are working.
‘Him?’ I ask nonchalantly.
‘Come on, he’s gorgeous,’ she gushes. ‘If half the officers look half as good as him, they’ll need to show me that stupid purity-standards vlip every day.’
I have to admit she’s right. Today his wild blond hair is smoothed back and it neatly brushes the shoulders of his dark pinstriped suit. I wonder if it was his skills or his looks that got him the job assisting Maela. But Pryana’s blatant attention is a bit much. I can’t help but notice now the reactions of the girls in the room to his entrance. Several glance over shyly, others sit up and thrust their chests forward, but every girl is aware of him. I suppose it’s not so surprising given segregation. Someone like Erik, or any of the many officers, is the first contact most of us have had with boys close to our own age. I don’t want to shrink down like some of other Eligibles, as though I’m embarrassed by my femininity. But maybe that explains my sharp tongue when I’m around men, or the way the strange boy made my heart race as he led me from the cells.
‘Yeah, he’s cute,’ I say, trying to be friendly. ‘His hair is awfully long though. I’m surprised they let him wear it that way.’
‘I guess they’re not going to have any problems with you and purity standards,’ Pryana teases. ‘Besides, I hear long hair is common in coastal villages like Saxun. Oh, it’s time to go!’
Most of the girls are already in the hallway, and Erik takes the lead, while several other officers trail behind us.
‘Ladies, today I’ll be leading you on a tour of the compound. As you may know, I assist Maela, the Spinster in charge of training, but her duties require her on the loom today. We’ll be visiting the studios and departments housed in the Western Coventry,’ Erik says loudly, so the whole group can hear. ‘Rest assured that I’ve been well trained to guide you.’
‘Drat,’ Pryana mutters. ‘No looms, but at least we get to follow him around today.’
Instead of agreeing with her, I grab her arm and drag her to the front of the group. I’m not missing a minute of this tour. Erik raises one eyebrow as I push to the front, but he doesn’t say anything.
‘Girl,’ Pryana whispers, ‘he’s looking at you.’
‘Yeah, because I knocked over half the group to get up here,’ I whisper back.
‘About that – I like your style.’
I give her an appreciative grin, and then turn my attention back to Erik, who has continued his spiel. At the end of the hallway, three corridors split off, and he leads us into the leftmost hallway.
‘Most of you will be working in entry-level positions,’ he says as he opens a door into a large room. Inside, rows of small looms form perfect lines and each is occupied by a Spinster busily working with her piece of Arras. On the far wall, a couple of square windows allow light to stream through, but the packed atmosphere of the studio is claustrophobic.
‘You’d think they could give us more light,’ Pryana says.
‘Especially since those aren’t real windows,’ I mutter back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Erik frown.
‘Not real windows?’ Pryana repeats.
Between her surprise and Erik’s annoyed look, I realise I’m not supposed to know that the walls and windows of the compound are programmed screens. Wild creatures are happy enough if they don’t know they’re being kept in a cage.
‘Yeah, the windows in my room are huge,’ I lie. ‘They could put bigger windows in the studios.’
Pryana relaxes, happy to believe my explanation, but Erik tilts his head and stares me down before he motions for the group to move on.
‘At the entry level, you will handle rationing – weaving food from the farm cities into cities across Arras. You may also watch for loose threads or any other signs of decay,’ he tells us as we pass room after room like the first one. There must be hundreds of Spinsters focused on these simple tasks.
‘From there,’ he continues, leading us into a new passage, ‘you may progress to studios that focus on weather, ensuring the right amount of precipitation falls throughout each sector. In others, you may perform standard removals and alterations like rebounds.’
The weather studios are roomier and only a dozen or so girls work in each. The looms they occupy are larger, and none of them seem to notice the new girls watching them. Or maybe they don’t care.
‘I think I’d rather work here,’ Pryana says to me.
I have to agree with her. I’m not sure I could handle the stuffiness of the earlier rooms, or the menial tasks expected of entry-level Spinsters.
‘The most gifted Spinsters will work in the next wing, though,’ Erik calls to the crowd.
We follow him out of the passage and into a circular room. The heavy door to these studios is guarded and requires security clearance.
‘Unfortunately, the work done in these studios is so sensitive that we can’t risk interrupting the Spinsters working there,’ he says.
The girls around me groan and hiss, but he raises a hand to indicate he wants to finish his lecture.
‘I understand that it’s disappointing, but it’s also necessary. The upper studios house the Emergency Department, which ensures no accidents occur in the Western Sector. They also house our Western Department of Origins. The Spinsters there oversee the delivery of babies into Arras.’
‘Say what?’ Pryana asks loudly, and a few girls around us chuckle. ‘There’s babies up there?’
Erik shakes his head, but I spy a smile tugging at his lips.
‘No,’ he reassures her. ‘The process of bringing new life into Arras is very precise. Once a pregnancy has been approved through local Guild clinics, the department of origins in that sector works in tandem with the local doctors and hospitals to bring the new life into Arras smoothly. To accomplish this, Spinsters schedule births, so the new thread can be woven in as the baby is delivered by the doctor and surgical team. It’s a routine procedure here at the Coventry, but it requires a delicate touch.’
‘I want to deliver babies,’ a short girl with light brown hair says. ‘Wouldn’t that be so nice?’
I nod my head automatically, but my mind is on my mother and the scar that marred her perfect figure, right across her belly. My parents made sure I knew how babies were made, insisting it was unfair to expect me to meet purity standards without knowing what I had to stay away from, but they never explained how babies actually came into the world. Now I understood why it was impossible for her to have another child without permission. And all those years I had pleaded with her to have a baby and talked back when she said it was impossible. Why couldn’t she have opened up more to me about the expectations and rules? Maybe then I would have known to run from retrieval instead of waiting in my chair for them to come.
‘What else is up there?’ Pryana asks Erik, edging a little too close to him.
I watch as she ventures from the safety of our group. She’s so at ease, clearly secure in her tight dress suit that shows off her long, amber legs. I can’t help marvelling at the way confidence rolls off her, and if I’m being honest, I’m a bit jealous, too. Erik barely notices her, though, which means he’s either very good at his job or my suspicion that he’s more than Maela’s personal assistant is correct.
‘Everything else is classified information,’ he says, stepping away from Pryana and beckoning to the group to show that it’s time to go.
‘Maybe he doesn’t like girls,’ Pryana mutters as she drifts back over to me.
‘He’s trained to keep us at a distance,’ I say. ‘I doubt he’d last long here if all the new Spinsters couldn’t keep their purity standards around him.’
‘You’re probably right,’ she says with a sigh. ‘I can keep looking at him though.’
We continue on our tour, and I struggle between wanting to ask Pryana about everything I missed and trying to play it cool. Thankfully,
she seems eager to fill me in on all the gossip.
‘We had ten retrievals in Cypress,’ she says as we walk with the group. ‘I think it broke some kind of record.’
I hear pride in her voice.
‘And they found you all at testing?’ I ask, wondering if girls from Romen are particularly untalented.
‘Of course,’ Pryana says. ‘They’re up there mostly.’
She points to the girls who had trailed at the back of the original group and now led it. They have the same shiny black hair and tawny skin as she does.
‘Were you friends with any of them?’ I ask.
Pryana shakes her head in disgust.
‘No, girls in that town only care about getting their courtship appointments. Northern cities are like that. I hear they’re more ambitious in the east.’
I wonder for a moment what they say about us westerners, but I don’t ask. I’m more interested in why Pryana wants to be here. ‘What about you?’ I ask. ‘What about your family? Were they happy you were called?’
‘Sure,’ she says, looking at me like I’m crazy. ‘My mom’s a maid. She always dreamed I’d move up, and my kid sister can’t wait to get called in a few years.’
My heart aches at the thought of Pryana possibly getting to see her sister in a few years. After my parents’ struggle, the Guild will probably ensure that Amie never winds up here, even if she is called. And I’m more than a little jealous of how easily Pryana is adjusting to her new life.
To my surprise, when we reach the entrance to this wing of the compound, we’re stopped. Erik whispers with another guard and disappears into the next room. Instead of leading us forward, the guard motions that we should wait here. A few moments later, more guards appear, and my stomach twists. We’re asked to return to the hallway, and then we’re herded to a long, winding staircase. We climb up the towers like the tragic princesses in the family storybooks secreted away in my parents’ cubby-holes.