sense of collective bustle and purpose, yet individually most of them seemed merely to be enjoying the sunshine. Faces were upturned after winter. While Seri ordered some drinks I glanced oven the headlines of the newspaper. More troops were to be sent to the south; the early thaw had brought avalanches to the mountain passes, and a patrol of the Border Police had been wiped out; the Seigniory had announced further grain embargoes to the so- called non-aligned states. It was depressing news, discordant with the reality of the Jethran day around me. Seri and I sat in the warm light, watching the passers-by and the tnams and the horse traffic, and aware of the people at the other tables. There was a predominance of unaccompanied young women; an intimation of the social effect of the draft.
'I love it here in Jethra,' I said. 'At this time of year it's the best place in the world.'
Seri said--Are you going to stay here for the rest of your life?
'Probably.' I saw the sun in her hair, and she was coming closer.
Seri said--'Don't you feel the urge to travel?'
'Where to? It's difficult while the wan's on.'
Seri said: 'Let's go to the islands. Once we're out of Faiandland we can go anywhere we please.'
'I'd love to,' I said. 'But what can I do about Gracia? I can't just nun away from her. She's everything to me.'
'You did it once before.'
'Yes, and she tried to kill herself. That's why I have to stay with her.
I can't risk that happening again.'
'Don't you think you might be the cause of her unhappiness?' Seri said.
'I've watched the way you two destroy each other. Don't you remember what Gracia was like when you met her in Castleton? She was confident, positive, building her life. Can you still recognize her as the same woman?'
'Sometimes. But she has changed, I know.'
'And it's because of you!' Seri said, flicking back her hair oven her right ear, as she sometimes did when she became agitated. 'Peter, for her sake and yours, you've got to get out.'
'But I've nowhere to go.'
'Conic with me to the islands.'
'Why is it always the islands?' I said. 'Couldn't I just get out of Jethra, like I did last year?'
I became aware that someone was standing beside my table, and I looked up. The waiter was standing there.
'Would you mind keeping your voice down, sin?' he said. 'You're disturbing the other customers.'
'I'm sorry,' I said, looking around. The other people seemed unaware of me, busy in their own lives. Two pretty girls walked past the tables; a tram clattered by; on the far side of the boulevard a council employee was sweeping up horse droppings. 'Would you bring the same again, please?'
I looked back to Seri. She had turned away while the waiter was there, neceding from me. I reached over and found her wrist, gripping it lightly, feeling the substance of it.
'Don't leave me,' I said.
Seri said--I can't help it. You're rejecting me.
'No! Please . . . you were really helping me then.'
Seri said--'I'm scared you will forget who I am. I'll lose you.'
'Please tell me about the islands, Seri,' I said. I noticed the waiter was watching me, so I kept my voice quiet.
'They're an escape from all this, your own private escape. Last year, when you went to your friend's house, you thought you could define yourself by exploring your past. You tried to remember yourself. But identity exists in the _present_. Memory is behind you, and if you depend on that alone you will be only half defined. You must seek balance, and embrace your future. The Dream Archipelago _is_ your future. Here, in Jethra, you will just stagnate with Gracia, and damage her.'
'But I don't believe in the islands,' I said.
'Then you must discover them for yourself. The islands are as real as I am. They exist and you can visit them, just as you can speak to me. But they're also a state of mind, an attitude to life. Everything you've done in your life so far has been inward-looking, selfish, hurtful to others. You must go outward and affirm your life.'
The waiter returned and put down our drinks: a glass of beer for myself and an orange juice for Seri. 'Please settle your bill as soon as you have finished, sir.'
'What do you mean?'
'Just he as quick as possible. Thank you.'
Seri had receded again, and for an instant I glimpsed another cafe: a dingy interior, plastic-topped tables stained with old tea, steamed-up windows, a milk cooler and a placard for PepsiCola . . . but then a tram went by with a flash of brilliant blue sparks from its conducting antenna, and I saw the pink blossom in the trees, the crowds of Jethrans.
Seri said, returning-- 'You can live forever in the Archipelago.'
'The Lotterie, you mean.'
'No . . . the islands are timeless. Those who go there never return.
They find themselves.'
