Free The Gradual by Christopher Priest Page B

both had huge mountain ranges, and both spoke a local language called Serquois, although the two languages were completely unalike, even to the use of different alphabets. People from one Serque rarely visited the other Serque. There was not thought to be any reason for this other than the immense distances involved.
    I garnered this confusing information from a young woman called Jih, who worked as a publicity assistant to Ders Axxon, and who had been one of those at our pre-tour briefing who had offered to help and advise us during our travels. I found her on the second evening before dinner, and asked her to sit at my table so that I, and the three other musicians who were with me, could be given a little information. When we were seated I asked her if she knew through which part of the Archipelago the ship was presently sailing.
    ‘We are still in the Greater Serques,’ she said, and it was then that she attempted to explain about the confusion of the two identically named islands and their groups. When we had cleared this up, she added, ‘At the moment we are heading for an island called Wesler, and we expect to be docking there early tomorrow morning. Wesler is the place of your first scheduled concert booking.’
    I remembered then, as I suppose so too did the others, that I had seen the name Wesler in our itinerary.
    ‘Do you recognize any of the islands we have passed?’ I said.
    She looked concerned, as if my questions were challenging her role as a provider of assistance. I wasn’t trying to do that – I merely wanted to know where we were. There were no charts or maps anywhere on the ship and none of my colleagues knew anything more than I did. Most of them appeared to have missed the early-morning briefing that Ganner had told me about.
    In a moment Jih said, ‘I wasn’t born in this part of the world. I come from Goorn, which is not at all like this area of the Archipelago.’
    ‘How is it different?’
    ‘Goorn is in the north, close to the arctic circle. In the Hetta group of islands?’ Her rising inflection seemed to suggest that we might know where she meant, but I shook my head. It was another fragment of information about the Archipelago, another name to add to the others, which I seized on. Goorn – it sounded uninviting. The word did not resonate. ‘Goorn has a long winter,’ Jih went on. ‘Only a few weeks of summer. The sea is frozen for nearly half the year. The island is mountainous and the northern coast has many fjords. It’s not like the islands here. I love this heat, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes – but I had no idea there were parts of the Archipelago where the sea froze. I thought the islands were tropical, or sub-tropical.’
    ‘Not all of them.’
    ‘What can you tell me about Wesler?’
    ‘I have some photos in my cabin of the main town, where you’ll be staying. It’s called Wesler Haven. I’ll bring the photos tomorrow but by then we will probably be about to disembark. I have the hotel bookings confirmed for everyone, so there should be no problem with those. The venue where you will be playing is called the Palacio Hall. Wesler lies to the south, so it’s likely to be warmer than here.’
    ‘Is it tropical?’ one of the others asked.
    ‘Not exactly – I mean, I’m not sure. It’s my first time too.’
    She went on to tell us that after we had finished in Wesler we would be on another ship heading towards the west, no longer moving so directly into the south. Many of the islands in the equatorial regions were uninhabited, or undeveloped, she told us. Msr Axxon and his team knew the effect a humid climate could have on some musical instruments so we would be avoiding the hottest places.
    That night, alone in my cabin and waiting for sleep, I replayed memories of the day: the scenery I had viewed from the ship’s deck, and also the general experience, novel to me, of being on a ship, living a marine life, responding to the subtle movements as we navigated our