Although the principal economic feature of Fellenstel is tourism, there are many light industrial units in the small inland town of Juggre, providing employment for the local people and prosperity for the region.
Intending visitors require a visa, which must be obtained locally before departure. Standard inoculations are mandatory. Visitors should also be advised that Fellenstel has strict erotomane laws in place. Random searches and gene testing at port of entry can cause delay and in some cases embarrassment if the paperwork is not correct. Our general advice to intending travellers is always either to heed local laws or choose another destination — Fellenstel is a perfect example of this. It is a veritable paradise in many ways, but it uses retributive justice and the penal system is harsh. Being a visitor to the island is not regarded as adequate mitigation.
Tunnelling is prohibited throughout Fellenstel.
The search for the killers of Commis began on Fellenstel. Two men and two women, known erotomanes, were believed to have disrupted the artiste’s performance when he was visiting Paneron. They also wrote negative reviews. How they were thought to have travelled halfway around the world to the scene of Commis’s death was never revealed, but within a few days they had been arrested and taken in for questioning. The discovery of negative reviews of other theatrical performances on their computer hardware only made their situation worse.
They said nothing in answer to questions — the safest course of action given the harsh Fellenstel system of crime prevention and detection — and finally the policier were forced to release them. They remained under suspicion, however, and were unable to work for several months. Only once they had managed to leave Fellenstel were they able to resume their lives.
Currency: Archipelagian simoleon, Aubracian talent.
Ferredy Atoll
HANGING HEAD
Dear Sir,
I am twenty-one years old and I live on an island in the Ferredy group called Mill. I am here with my parents. I have just returned from university on Semell where I gained a First Class Honours degree in Island Literature.
I wish to inform you that during my three years at the university we were given many modern novels to study, and amongst them was your book Terminality. I was impressed by this novel and wanted to know a lot more about the other books you might have written, who you were, and so on. I spent a great deal of time trying to track down some other of your books, but unfortunately not all were available on Semell. I managed in the end to borrow three more titles, all of them apparently from your early career.
Let me tell you that I think they were very good. This led me to decide to specialize in your work, and my dissertation was on the subject of ‘literary stasis’, a phrase borrowed, of course, from your novel The Tour of Circles. I called my dissertation ‘The Enigma of Staying: Immobilization and the Static Values of Chaster Kammeston’.
I know you must be busy and the last thing I want to do is interrupt your writing, but I do have a simple question I should like you to answer. I want to become a writer, a novelist, and I wondered if you have any advice you would be willing to give me?
From a devoted admirer.
Yours sincerely,
M. Kaine
Dear Sir,
Thank you for your reply, which took ages to reach me. Living in the Ferredy Atoll has many disadvantages. I hope that the lateness of this letter does not make you think that I reacted badly to the advice you have given me.
Let me assure you first of all that I have honoured your request and have destroyed your letter by burning it. No one else was allowed to read it. I am sure you have good reasons for wanting that, but I wish I could describe my feelings about having to burn something you had written. Every word you write is precious to me. But I respect your wishes.
In answer to your question: yes, I did get hold of the books of yours I could not find at first. My tutor admires your novels and was able to lend me his copies of the ones I did not have. Regrettably I had to return them when I left university, but since I last wrote to you I have been searching the internet. The only copy I have so far managed to buy is a rather old and battered paperback of Escape to Nowhere. Clearly it has been read by many people before me, but I am extremely pleased to possess it. I have made a special protective cover for it. I have read it twice since it arrived here. I find it intriguing and beautiful. The end always makes me cry. I have a thousand questions I would love to ask you about it, but I don’t want to intrude on your time.
Thank you for the advice you offered me about becoming a writer. I must say it was not quite what I was expecting, and to be honest with you I found it disappointing. I intend to carry on in spite of your warnings.
May I ask: are you working on a new book now?
Yours sincerely,
M. Kaine
Dear Mr Kammeston,
I am so excited with the news of your new book! I can hardly wait to read it. Later this year I am intending to visit some friends who live on Muriseay, and I hope I will be able to catch up with all the books I want to buy while I am there. The Ferredy Atoll has only one bookshop. It is on the far side of the lagoon from where I live and it is not exactly what I call a bookshop: it mostly sells magazines and a few best-selling romances, which are always a year or two old. Without the internet I don’t know what I would do, but even the online dealers seem not to have heard of your books.
You say it will be another novel. May I dare to ask: is it another book in your ‘Inertia’ series? Can you tell me anything about it at all? I love everything you have written, but the Inertia books are special to me.
You want to know why I live here on Mill, and what it is like. I live here because I was born here and so it is my home. My parents are both social anthropologists. They came to the Ferredy Atoll before I was born to study and work with the indigenous people here. The Atoll is more or less untouched by the modern world and many of the tribal customs are unique. My parents have made several films about the people and they have written textbooks about the aboriginal culture here. My mother retired several years ago and my father now works mostly as a consultant, but they both love this place and don’t want to leave.
However, since I was at Semell Uni for three years, which gave me the opportunity to see many of the other islands while I was travelling around. I confess I am restless to see more. When I go to Muriseay I am hoping to take several detours to visit some of the other islands. I notice that your island of Piqay is not far from Muriseay, or at least it would take only a few days on the ferries to travel there. Ever since we have been in contact I have been wondering if I might call in at Piqay and perhaps visit you? I do not want to disturb your work or trouble you, so if it is inconvenient I will understand.
Returning to Mill, there is not much I can say about it as a place. It is murderously hot here most of the year. We have snakes, hostile bats and large poisonous insects, but you learn to live with them. The ‘winter’ is short. The only difference between that and the rest of the year is that it rains day and night for three weeks. It remains almost as hot and the humidity is awful.
All the Ferredy islands are small. They are considered uniquely scenic and unspoiled. We have a few hills, hundreds of beaches, long stretches of forest, few roads, no railways, no airport. Everyone gets around by boat. The lagoon is fringed with many tall trees. Because the place is so photogenic you often see photographers or film crews working around the lagoon. They idealize the place but they would feel differently if they had to live here. My parents’ house is in a shallow valley where there is a stream and a view of the lagoon. There is a small town on the other side of our island, with a dentist, doctor, a few shops, a hotel, not much else. I want to leave!