Book 15 : 794-822

794 Winter 2,2

It’s eight long years since I wrote anything in here. Life has been too busy.

How many tides have ebbed and flowed! I am at home with baby Viilam. He is fast asleep, and I have little to do but think about the past until he wakes. Maybe I will write down what has happened over the last eight years.

When I’ve reread what I wrote in the thirty-two years before that. I’ve not read it for many years, but Zhiishii read bits of it to me when she was reading it. How she laughed! And sometimes she cried.

794 Winter 2,4

Viilam is asleep. I have reread the whole of my diaries.

On thing I noticed while I was reading them: how much I thought Zhiishii reminded me of Aari. Which seems very odd, reading it now. They really were very different. More or less all they had in common was that they were both women, and that I loved them both dearly.

Zhiishii knew a lot about Aari, both by reading my diaries, and by the things other people – and I – told her. And she did copy her a bit. Well, not Aari, but the mental picture she had of her, which meant it always came across as a bit of a caricature. Which could have hurt if I hadn’t known it wasn’t meant to.

Zhiishii and I had eight happy years together, but ghuhrhu has taken her from me. Three weeks ago. Three long weeks. Took her, and both our children, and so many others. I have been nurse to half of Laanoha it seems. And I have lost so many.

How does ghuhrhu decide who to take, who to spare, and who to leave untouched? Last time, I was ill but survived; this time I wasn’t even ill. Last time, Oberon wasn’t ill; this time he died, along with Viilaami and their daughter Shaami. But their son Viilam wasn’t ill, and here he is, unaware of what’s happened I think. He’ll be a year old in a week’s time.

Viiniha was right: I haven’t made Zhiishii a young widow; she has made me an old widower. I have not made our children fatherless.

I do not wish I was dead. I have lost two wives, two daughters, two sons, a daughter in law, and a granddaughter to ghuhrhu, but I have a grandson who needs me.

I wonder how Szuushii – Zhiishii’s mother – is? I’ve not seen her for three years now. I don’t know whether I ever will again. Will I go to sea again? I don’t know. Where are Uuzhahu – Zhiishii’s brother – and the rest of the Vinhaassa crew just now?

I retired three years ago, when Uuzhahu was ready to take over as purser. Not captain; Greyr is captain now. Uuzhahu is still young, but he’s a very capable purser and will make a good captain when Greyr retires. I expect they’ll call here before long. They will be devastated at the news. They all adored Raashiimi and Zhaayram, and were very fond of Zhiishii as well.

Judd will be devastated too. I wonder where he is? He doesn’t know his mother and both his sisters are gone. He won’t know until he comes home, unless he meets other sailors who’ve been here. He won’t know even then, he’ll just know there’s been a ghuhrhu.

Yaana and Joesham and Peyr are well. They weren’t ill at all. Peyr’s working in the railway workshops. Yaana still doesn’t have papers, and can’t get work. Officially.

Hemrom is gone. I haven’t heard how his sisters are. People are saying ghuhrhu didn’t hit Meyroha nearly as hard as it hit Laanoha.

Imbaal is gone.

Behmi is well, but she’s very old now and Biishaali has taken over running the guest house. Oeli next door was ill but is recovering well; Braami is gone.

I don’t know whether this was a worse ghuhrhu than last time, or not as bad. I don’t know what proportion of the population is gone – I don’t know what proportion were taken last time, either. A lot, both times.

I am writing all this and I am not crying. Has time hardened me? I don’t think so. I’m still just numb. It hasn’t really all sunk in yet. It’s a bad dream, and I’ll wake up soon.

Only I know I won’t. I’ve been here before.

794 Winter 2,5

Today was warm for the time of year, and windless. I took Viilam for a walk along the point. Carried him, of course. He’s started walking a little, but not distances like that! Sat him down on my coat for a short time while I collected a bagful of ekraahi. Nice to be able to do that at this time of year!

Now he’s fast asleep.

What else has happened these last eight years? So much.

One time we thought we were all going to die, along with nine passengers. We were taking them from Tonki to Meyroha, and we’d almost arrived when we were hit by a storm. We ran before it for three days, way out into the ocean beyond Meyroha, where no-one ever goes. We narrowly missed huge icebergs. But the storm abated, and for two days we were becalmed before eventually we were able to head for home. It took us twelve days to beat back to Meyroha, and we were half starved and running out of fresh water by the time we arrived.

Two years ago there was a huge earthquake. There was a lot of damage in Laanoha, which is unusual – most of the damage is usually further north, where the earthquakes are generally much worse. They were probably worse there this time too, but everything in the far north is built to withstand earthquakes to a large extent, and while there was some damage up there, it wasn’t any worse than usual. But two train drivers were killed – a train derailed and fell into the gorge at Elbrouha, and the other was hit by a falling rock in a cutting near Tambuk.

I only vaguely knew the dead drivers, but they were the father and the husband of Faahiha, whom I’ve got to know quite well since. She has become a train driver herself, insisting on earning her living rather than relying on the charity of the other train drivers, which was offered. Her home town is Briggi, but she stays with Yaana and Joesham when she’s in Laanoha. She and Yaana have become close friends.

Faahiha has twin daughters, Berraami and Jinni, just coming up to two years old in a few weeks. Shaami and Raashiimi and Zhaayram and Viilam and the twins made such a lovely group.

It must have been a bit like that for Mother and Agni when I was tiny – two Big Sisters and two Babies, or four Babies when the twins were with them.

No, not quite. The big gap is between Zhaayram and Viilam, not between Raashiimi and Zhaayram. And it’s a bigger gap than between Clara and Dempsey.

Dempsey! How are you now? How are all of you?

I’m rambling.

Well. At least the twins and Viilam have survived.

I’ve not worked for the railway, or for the port office, since I retired from Vinhaassa. I get a railway pension, a small one because of my limited work history. Uuzhahu gives us a share of Vinhaassa’s profits whenever they call here. I earn a bit of money collecting seaweed and shellfish. I earn a bit of money playing the mizma and singing. And I have savings. I don’t have money worries.

I’ve lost most of my family and many of my friends, but I still have good friends. And this tiny sleeping grandson. Count your blessings, Gom.

Live a long life and you’re bound to lose people on the way, Viiniha said, and it’s the truth. I lost my mother, my sisters and my aunt a long, long time ago. Lost, not dead, although who knows whether any of them are still alive by now?

I wonder how Viiniha is? I’ve not seen her since I retired. Last time Vinhaassa visited they’d seen her a few weeks earlier, and she was well. Older, of course, but still active both physically and mentally.

At least this ghuhrhu didn’t reach Briggi, but whether she was there or in Barioha or somewhere in between I don’t know, and I don’t know where ghuhrhu reached anyway.

Yaana brought me some eggs yesterday. I’ll cook some of those now to have cold for breakfast tomorrow. And some of that seaweed and those ekraahi for dinner as soon as Viilam wakes up. Happily he has a much tougher stomach than his father or his aunts had at his age. I seem to be able to feed him anything as long as I mash it up well.

Or perhaps they just preferred mother’s milk, and he knows there’s none available. Who knows what goes on in a baby’s head, and how closely it’s linked to what goes on in their stomach?

794 Winter 3,1

Collected a lot of ekraahi and seaweed two days ago, and took them to Behmi’s – to Biishaali, that is. Biishaali thanked me, but she’s not a chatterbox like Behmi. She paid me and got on with her work.

Had a long chat with Behmi, mostly about old times, but also thinking about the future. Viilam sat on her lap and played with her glasses. Behmi is concerned about me raising a small child on my own at my age, and I can see her point. What will happen to him if anything happens to me?

But what can I do? For the moment, nothing. Not until things settle down a bit after ghuhrhu. Then we’ll think about it.

Okay, she says. As you say, not a lot you can do at the moment.

794 Winter 9,3

Judd is home. He’s been all over the place, on several different ships. He’s heartbroken – not only has he lost his mother and sisters, he’s lost the sweetheart no-one knew he had. They were planning to be married in the spring, and he was going to try for a job with the railway.

But now he says he’s going back to sea as soon as a ship calls that wants an able seaman. I worry about him, but what can I do? I worry about everyone. Especially Viilam, but he seems to be a happy little boy. He knows his grandfather loves him.

Of course I love him. He’s my grandson. And he’s all I’ve got left. I’m all he’s got left, too.

794 Winter 10,3

The Railwayyard has asked me to restart the music evenings. They want to try to cheer the atmosphere up. I agree with their motives, but it will be very difficult. I’ve lost all my fellow musicians, and I’ve never been the one to get things rolling at the beginning.

Even Judd has deserted me: he’s back at sea already. The port office told me he’s on his way to Tonki.

Niina will look after Viilam for the evening, and I will see what I can manage. Viilam and I can stay the night and have breakfast in the morning.

I will practice some pieces on the mizma. And write out some of the songs to make sure I don’t forget in the heat of the moment. Be brave, Gom. They need you.

We all need each other.

794 Winter 10,7

Grim determination works. Last night I played four mizma solos, including one new composition, and then started the bawdy Mezha songs. It worked. Enough folk knew the songs and were ready to sing them lustily to create the atmosphere we need. We didn’t finish until past midnight.

Viilam is so like the aunt he never met: he dances sitting on his mat just like Riini did. And entrances everybody just like she did, and revels in the attention he gets just like she did.

And when he’d had enough, in the middle of one song whose rhythm didn’t seem to suit him, he rolled over and crawled off, making a beeline for Niina, with whom he is already best friends, and in whose arms he rapidly went to sleep despite all the noise.

I made my new composition very carefully. It starts slow and sad, and gradually becomes faster and faster and more and more cheerful, before finally slowing down and becoming peaceful. That’s the idea, anyway, and people seem to like it.

794 Winter 12,2

Biishaali didn’t want to restart music evenings at Behmi’s, but Behmi insisted. For one thing, we need to cheer Laanoha up, she said, and for another, it’s good for trade.

It was the latter point that won the argument, but really they’re more or less the same thing anyway.

The same new composition went down there well too, and I was asked to play it again at the end. At what should have been the end, but six sailors came in halfway through it. They wanted to hear some of the Mezha songs that they said they’d heard about, and they don’t often arrive in Laanoha on a by-four Odama. They were sorry they only arrived late, but could we, please?

And we did. For another hour.

And trade was very good – not like old times, but by far the best night since ghuhrhu struck. Biishaali had gone to bed, but Behmi stayed up to the end with the other girls behind the bar.

At breakfast this morning Biishaali was cooking and serving. She complained about the noise last night – then couldn’t keep up the sour face, cracked out laughing and apologized, and said how pleased she was about the fantastic night’s trade.

I’d been worrying whether we were going to be able to keep the place open at all, she said.

We’re going to do even Odamas, not just by-fours, for a while, anyway.

794 Winter 13,4

I can’t stop thinking about Zhiishii. And the children. And then I go to sleep eventually, and I dream about them. And then I wake up in the dark, and Viilam is sleeping peacefully and I try to go back to sleep and there I am, thinking about my family again and eventually I go to sleep again and I dream about them all again. And Zhiishii and Raashiimi and Zhaayram are all muddled up with Aari and Riini and Oberon when he was a baby and then Zhiishii isn’t Zhiishii and she isn’t Aari either, she’s someone else holding little Zhaayram and her face is completely grey and blotchy like death and her lips are wide open but her teeth are shut and she’s just showing her teeth whoever she is and then she’s Dempsey and she’s crying and it isn’t Zhaayram on her lap, it’s Riini and then I’m in the black water trying to keep Aari’s face out of the water and then I wake up again and Viilam’s crying quietly and I pick him up and cuddle him and he goes back to sleep and then I actually wake up and he’s been sleeping peacefully all the time.

And why have I written that? Because the dream is still so vivid in my head this morning that I have to even if it doesn’t make any sense, and Viilam is still asleep.

794 Winter 13,6

It’s snowing. First time this year, down here at sea level. Been plenty up in the mountains and at Tambuk, of course.

Down here it’s melting as soon as it lands – probably because the ground’s salty from the spindrift of yesterday’s storm, not because of the temperature. Which is freezing. It’s probably settling further up the street. I was planning to bundle Viilam up warm and walk into town and visit Yaana and Joesham today – Faahiha and the twins should have arrived last night, and it’s lovely to have the three babies together – but unless this snow stops I don’t think I’m going anywhere.

795 Spring 1,6

Viilam and I are home. We have been to Briggi and back with Faahiha and the twins.

Last Odibi the snow did stop, and it wasn’t windy and the sun came out and it was a beautiful day – bitterly cold, but beautiful – and I did walk into town with Viilam wrapped up warm and snuggled against my chest in the sling, and Faahiha was at Yaana’s place with the twins and she suggested it would be good for her and the twins and for me and Viilam to have company for a while and it’s warm in the cab with the fire and the inns on the way always have good fires and good food so why not?

Why not indeed? So we went.

And I think Viilam enjoyed it. Three toddlers in the cab is interesting. How Faahiha manages with two, on her own, and driving the engine, I don’t know. But she does. I had Viilam and one twin in slings most of the time in the cab, which must have made it a lot easier for her, only having one twin to hold.

Viilam has taken to wanting to face away from me in the sling. How much this is because he wants to see what’s going on, and how much it’s because he’s seen Jinni and Berraami doing it, I don’t know.

They’re all good walkers, but you can’t have toddlers loose in the cab!

Lots of snow in the mountains, but nothing the trains can’t cope with easily. Viilam laughed when we got showers of snow dust in the cab every time we slammed through a drift. He wasn’t fazed at all by the sudden brief chill on his face. Jinni doesn’t seem to mind it either – simply no reaction, I think she’s just used to it. But Berraami screws her faces up every time and makes a funny little annoyed-sounding noise.

Twins. And they look exactly alike when their faces are relaxed. But they’re very different little characters, which shows in the faces they make, the way they talk, and their general behaviour. Little characters they certainly are.

Berraami sticks her tongue out just the way Riini used to. And Aari for that matter. And in a quite different way from the way Zhiishii did, which I’m sure she only did because she’d read about Aari doing it.

And if that sounds mean to Zhiishii it’s not meant to be. She did it lovingly not nastily. Teasing a bit? Definitely. I teased her too. Gently I hope.

Aari’s and Riini’s tongues stuck out like they were heading off on a journey somewhere. Berraami’s does too. Zhiishii’s stuck out like it was shy, and trying not to let anyone see that it was sticking out.

Raashiimi never stuck her tongue out at all. She was much too refined for that! Quite funny, how refined Raashiimi was, with no training at all and no-one like that around to have copied it from. It was just her nature.

No-one like that around at all? Hmm. Not sure. Zhiishii wasn’t refined, but only because she worked hard at not being refined. She was naturally very refined underneath. Perhaps Raashiimi picked up on that.

She and Shaami got on really well most of the time, but Shaami wasn’t refined at all, quite the opposite. Niece and aunt, just a year apart. Or should that be half-niece, and half-aunt? I don’t know. Both gone, just eight and seven years old.

Ghuhrhu is horrible. It’s not even a gentle death.

795 Spring 1,7

Yesterday I cried for the first time since ghuhrhu, and had to give up writing. Viilam cried too, I think probably because I was crying. Silent tears, just like mine.

Today I’ve been practising the mizma and trying to sing. Viilam sat on his mat, dancing just like Riini used to, the whole time I was playing. I don’t think he liked the singing much though. My voice wasn’t working properly, which could be why he didn’t like it. Or perhaps he was picking up that I didn’t like it.

I hope I can manage to sing tomorrow night.

Playing my new composition I realized it doesn’t work the way I’d planned it. It doesn’t start sad, get cheerful, and finish peaceful. The end is almost like the beginning. It starts sad, gets cheerful, then finishes sad again. Why do people like it so much? But they seem to.

795 Spring 2,2

Last night at Behmi’s – everyone still calls it Behmi’s, not Biishaali’s, and probably will long after Behmi is gone – was even better than three weeks ago. I was going to leave my new composition out, having realized it ends sadly, but someone, I don’t know who, shouted out a request for it, and got tumultuous support, so I had to play it. Twice, in the end.

Biishaali stayed for the whole session, and really did appear to be happy. Viilam danced on his mat for a while, then went and curled up on Behmi’s lap. They were both asleep when I went to look for him at the end of the evening.

He didn’t wake as I took him to put to bed, but Behmi did. For a moment she tried to stop me taking him – I think in her half-awake state she thought someone was stealing him, or that she was dropping him – and I thought he was going to be woken by her grabbing at him, but he wasn’t.

This morning Biishaali actually thanked me! She said that every room was taken for the night, the first time that’s happened since ghuhrhu.

795 Summer 5,3

Reading what I wrote a season ago, I realize I missed a few details of the Briggi trip, thinking about the babies in the train and then drifting off into thinking about my family.

We were only in Briggi for two nights and a day. Faahiha stays with cousins, and Viilam and I stayed in the Railwayyard Inn. The weather was freezing but sunny and bright on our day loose in Briggi, and I wandered down to the river with Viilam in the hope that Viiniha might be there, and she was.

She keeps her barge in Briggi most of the time now, only going down to Barioha when she’s expecting Vinhaassa to turn up there – about once a year for a load of copper. Sometimes she’s in Barioha for a few weeks waiting for them.

I’m an old lady now, she says. They give me plenty of coins whenever I see them, and I can do as I please. My barge is my home, it doesn’t have to work for my living any more. I take passengers whenever I go up and down the river, but more for the company than the money. That said, the money’s always welcome, of course. And if some woodcutter wants to send some wood to Barioha or Briggi, or some scavenger has some copper or iron to go to Barioha, that’s fine too, but I don’t go looking for it, and I don’t have a crew to load or unload it so that’s down to the client.

It’s not a bad life.

She’d heard the news about ghuhrhu from the train drivers, and knew all the details of how my family had been hit. Viilam reminds me a lot of your Zhaayram, she said. Sorry. I shouldn’t have reminded you.

It doesn’t matter, I said. I remind myself all the time, one way and another. It can’t be helped.

795 Summer 5,5

Viilam has quite a few words now. Some of them are clear enough that people can recognize what they are – other people, not just me. And he walked all the way to the point this morning. I carried him back. Fast asleep.

Oeli and I have taken to cooking for each other, more or less alternate days. We eat a lot of shellfish and seaweed. Earlier in the year Yaana was giving us eggs and the occasional auk, but that season’s over now. Faahiha sometimes smuggles some cheese or salt goat into town for Yaana, and Yaana gives us a bit of that too. We eat pretty well, really. Of course I buy some vegetables and fruit and fish in the market, but the bulk of our food is what I gather on the shore. My main expenditure is firewood – a little all year for cooking, and a lot in the cold weather just to keep warm and dry.

“Smuggles.” How the world changes. The Castle’s grip on all human life in Laanoha tightens. This is Not a Good Thing. It’ll be as bad as London before long if it carries on like this.

Hmm. Maybe not. They don’t have a network of police spreading out through all the surrounding towns and villages, never mind links with police in neighbouring countries. There are defined boundaries around Laanoha, around Barioha and around Meyroha, but no other borders apart from those, and the concept of “country” doesn’t seem to exist in this part of the world, or anywhere this side of The Weather, or indeed south of Cadiz on the other side I don’t think.

795 Summer 11,1

Yesterday Viilam and I visited Yaana, as we quite often do. Faahiha was there with the twins, as she sometimes is.

But what makes me write is Peyr’s news: he’s being trained to drive an engine! He’s wanted to do that ever since he was tiny, he says. Everyone knew he did when he was little, but we all thought he’d given up on the idea. Not he! He was just keeping it under his hat.

Berraami says she’s going to be an engine driver, too. Well, her maama is, so why not?

795 Winter 3,5

Viilam turned two years old yesterday. Oeli insisted that since we know when his birthday is, it must be celebrated – and not leaving anything to chance, she organized everything behind my back, and manoeuvred us into being at Behmi’s at the crucial moment without my realizing what she was up to.

I didn’t have the mizma with me, but they got me singing. For once, I did an old English birthday song. There are no birthday songs in Laana – nobody has birthdays.

We restarted the singsongs at both the Railwayyard and Behmi’s last week. My role is really to get everyone started nowadays. Lots of people know the songs now.

Funny the way things change: here’s me, too shy to sing in public, becoming the chap to get the ball rolling; here’s me, not a native Laana speaker, never mind Mezha, teaching Laanohans and even Mezhamers bawdy Mezha songs. Life happens in funny ways.

I generally do a few mizma solos too, and there are usually a few folks with fihihis who join in as well.

Baamoon and Kaahmi were at the Railwayyard Inn last week – good to see old friends! They’re well, and they have three fine children. Baamoon has been co-opted onto the Railway Committee. He’s a good choice, a decent man and a good thinker. Actually cares about the people who work for the railway.

Kaahmi didn’t have her fihihi with her, but she borrowed one and stole the show. Or would have done, if she hadn’t had to share it with Baamoon. I remember when he sang at his father’s wedding all those years ago. His voice was wonderful then, but it’s matured and is even more so now. It was funny to hear him trying to sing bawdy Mezha songs though; they’re really not his style. Kudos to him for trying anyway!

I was a bit embarrassed at being given all the tips, but Biishaali said it was down to me that the whole event happens at all, everybody had a good time, and no-one else would expect anything. Baamoon and Kaahmi don’t need it, that’s for sure, she said.

Baamoon is far too gracious to be insulted if it was offered, but he would surely politely refuse, anyway. Kaahmi would just laugh. We’ve known each other since she was a child.

799 Winter 3,5

Viilam turned six yesterday. I see it’s four years since I wrote anything in here. He understands all about parties now! I don’t know why I didn’t write anything about the last three. They happened, at Behmi’s, of course. What is there to write about them? They’re parties. There are children, having a good time. There are adults, mostly having a good time, some of them getting a bit stressed.

Actually, some of the children get a bit stressed, too.

We all still call the place Behmi’s, although Behmi is no more, and it’s Biishaali’s really now.

Viiniha is still sprightly, still living on her barge. I don’t know how old she is. She seems to go on forever. Long may she continue to do so! Viilam and I see her a couple of times a year when we take a trip to Briggi on the train.

I thought about doing a round trip, by train to Briggi, then with Viiniha down to Barioha on her barge, and back to Laanoha on Vinhaassa – or vice-versa. But it doesn’t really work. Vinhaassa stays a couple of weeks in Zhaam on the way to Barioha, for the crew to visit their families, and Viilam and I would have nothing to do there. They don’t stop there in the other direction, when they’re usually carrying copper, but Viiniha sails down from Briggi weeks before they arrive, to be sure of catching them.

So we see Viiniha in Briggi, and hear the Vinhaassa news there; and we see Vinhaassa and her crew in Laanoha, and hear Viiniha’s news here. I’ve thought of taking another trip on Vinhaassa, just for old times’ sake, but I’m a bit ambivalent about it. Without Zhiishii it would feel very strange, and I don’t think I’d enjoy it at all. Especially if we ended up having a few days in Vantun or Bhoemar, as we most likely would.

Half of me wants to visit Ponkontun again – it’s a lovely place – but the other half knows I’d go completely crazy with grief, and wouldn’t enjoy the place at all.

Peyr drives an engine on the Briggi line, and has married a lass from Baragi. Her name is Yaani, not to be confused with Yaana, his mother! Yaana and Yaani seem to get on very well, which is fortunate considering the four of them share a fairly small room in a tenement in the middle of town. Well, often just Yaana and Yaani, with Peyr off driving his train, and Joesham away working on road building most of the time.

Yaana and Yaani make a funny pair though. Yaana, who was so shy when I first met her, is very much the opposite now; Yaani is as quiet as Yaana used to be. She scarcely gets a word in edgeways. But out on the street she’s quietly confident, whereas Yaana is still a bit wary.

Probably because Yaani got papers when she married Peyr, and Yaana has no papers at all.

It’s become a bit of a problem for people who were already adult when the system came in, and who didn’t get papers as established residents or employees of a respectable employer. Yaana was an established resident, but didn’t apply for papers because she thought of herself as Oushian, not Laanohan – and by the time she realized she needed them, it was too late. Well, maybe. Maybe she could have still got them, but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by asking.

Quite a number of people have been picked up on the street and thrown out of town, or in a few cases have simply disappeared. Now that IS a bit like London. Fortunately it doesn’t happen often, and anyone who sounds Laanohan or is a familiar face around town won’t generally get asked to show their papers as long as they’re not doing anything suspicious. But there are guard houses all around the perimeter of the town, and you’re almost certain to be asked to show your papers there.

Meyroha was always like this, of course. Always? Maybe not, but it was like this already when I first went there. All those years ago, with Aari, when Riini was just a toddler.

But really, it’s a lot less bad than London. It’s a lot easier to disappear down the cracks here, and there are ways in and out of town without risking meeting any guards.

800 Winter 3,5

And another year has passed. Peyr and Yaani have a beautiful baby girl, Aila. She’s six months old already.

Viilam has decided this was The Last Party, Gaapa. I’m not a baby any longer, and no-one else has Parties because no-one else has Birthdays, Gaapa.

Okay youngster, it shall be as you say.

Jinni and Berraami are eight, or thereabouts, and are much bigger than Viilam. I think he’s trying to be as grown up as he can.

We often see Faahiha and the twins at Yaana’s. It gets quite crowded, but at least Peyr’s not usually there at the same time as Faahiha, since they’re both driving on the same route and their shifts work like that.

801 Spring 4,2

A very strange experience for me at last night’s music sing-song at Behmi’s. Peyr’s daughter Aila was dancing, sitting on her mat, dancing exactly the way Riini did at her age. I’ve seen other babies doing it too – Viilam used to, for one – but never quite in the same way. And Aila is the spitting image of Riini.

804 Spring 8,5

Vinhaassa is in port. Uuzhahu came and found me at Behmi’s to bring me some coins, and more importantly, two pieces of news.

One sad, but not unexpected: Viiniha has died. She didn’t turn up to meet them at Barioha. They enquired amongst the Ariha bargees, who told them. The bargees had given her a traditional bargee send-off: set her barge adrift. Last seen drifting out to sea. It won’t be a hazard to shipping for long, it’s not sea-worthy. It’ll go to the bottom with the first good storm, or end up on the rocks on a wild bit of coast somewhere.

I wonder how old she was? She could easily have been a hundred. I don’t think she knew herself. I’m pretty sure she didn’t.

More happily, and also not unexpected: Greyr is a great-grandfather, and has retired to enjoy his great-grandchild. Uuzhahu is now captain of Vinhaassa, and they’ve taken on a young lad from Mormi to train. Uuzhahu says he’s strong, he’s keen, and he’s been sailing fishing boats for years.

There wasn’t anyone in Zhaam who wanted the job, and Mormi’s not too far, so he can take his leave when Vinhaassa’s idle at Zhaam.

What about you, Uuzhahu? When do you take your leave?

Oh, I see my mother in Bhoemar for a day or two several times a year. But I’ve got a little secret to tell you. I shouldn’t tell anyone, it’s not done, but as it’s you...all being well, I’ll be a father by the next time I see you. In Zhaam. I take my leave there like everyone else.

Well. That’s the best news yet. All being well.

Should I have written that down? It’s not done, but too late now.

806 Spring 10,4

This is very worrying. Not for me, nor for Viilam. We don’t need the money or anything else from Vinhaassa. But for Uuzhahu and Kazhiir and Peyrham – where are they? No sign of Vinhaassa last year, nor this spring yet. They’ve always called by now.

Zhaam isn’t an easy place to get to, to go and inquire after them – and if they’re missing, what would I do or say in Zhaam? I don’t know their families, and there’s nothing I could do to help them. And if they’re not missing, what am I going to do in Zhaam? They’ll just think I’m complaining about the money, and I don’t want to go there for an argument about something I don’t care about at all.

So let’s hope to see them again sometime. But I have this awful feeling that we won’t, that something terrible has happened to them.

807 Summer 1,1

They’re building more houses at the bottom of the street. The sea gets further away every year.

Viilam is thirteen, and has started working in the railway workshops.

Last year, Judd decided to give up sailing. He works in the railway workshops now as well.

Aila was a baby last time I wrote; and only beautiful the way babies are beautiful. She’s a very pretty young person now, and as bright as a button – or should I say as sharp as a needle? She reminds me a lot of Riini and Raashiimi and Shaami, which is hard for me.

Her character is Riini to a T, or it seems so to me, and she looks very like Raashiimi. Which is odd, considering that Riini was half Laanohan – or, strictly, Mezhamer, but that makes no difference – whereas Raashiimi wasn’t remotely Laanohan. Half English, a quarter Vantuner, and a quarter Bhoemari. Yet it’s Raashiimi that Aila, who is all Laanohan or hereabouts, looks like.

When she was younger, she looked more like Riini did at the same age, but now she’s definitely a Raashiimi lookalike.

But such things are all in the eye of the beholder really. No-one else has noticed any similarities. As far as I know.

I love this little girl, like I loved my own daughters and granddaughter. She knows it, I’m sure, and I think she loves me, too. She could wind me round her little finger, tie me in knots, but she doesn’t because she wouldn’t do a thing like that, it’s not in her character. And if it was, she wouldn’t be who she is, I wouldn’t feel the same way about her, and she wouldn’t be able to do it.

Perhaps.

And why do I feel this way about Aila, and not about Jinni and Berraami? I love them both too, but it’s not the same.

Feelings. Will I ever understand them?

Does anyone?

I love my grandson more than anyone else.

Anyone else still alive, that is.

Aila wanted me to play my sad-cheerful-peaceful or is it sad-happy-sad piece again yesterday. So I did, of course. I’m sure everyone else is utterly fed up with it, but they’re far too polite to say so.

Aila’s little brother Grim must be nearly two by now.

I’m rambling again. Viilam has been working really hard in the workshops, and is fast asleep. And I am not.

807 Summer 3,6

One of the big rooms on the top floor of the tenement where Yaana and her family live came vacant, and they’ve moved up there. Huge relief, it was really cramped with six of them in there. Faahiha and the twins still stay with them when they’re in town, and of course the twins are big girls now. Faahiha has been teaching them to drive the train – well, just letting them drive it, really. They’ve spent their whole childhood in the cab and know what to do almost by instinct.

Viilam doesn’t get me to translate the diary for him any more. I’m not sure he knows I still write it, and may have forgotten about it altogether.

He likes the work in the workshops, he says, but I can tell he really wants to drive the engines. Up the line, not just around the yard.

812 Winter 4,4

Terrible news yesterday. The earthquake three days ago, that we thought was minor, triggered an avalanche and landslide in the mountains. It took away the Gorb road where Joesham was working on the new bridge just below the top of the pass. Survivors arrived in Laanoha last night with the news. Joesham is among the many missing.

Naturally Yaana is in deep shock. Peyr doesn’t know yet, he’s away in Briggi at the moment, and won’t be back home for three days. Yaani and Aila and little Grim are doing their best to comfort her. Yaani keeps reminding her that missing isn’t the same thing as dead, which may not be the best way to try to keep Yaana on an even keel. The difference is moot in the mountains at this time of year.

812 Winter 4,5

I spent the day with Yaana yesterday, just sitting with her and listening, which I’m sure is the best thing really. Yaani is working for Biishaali now. Aila and Grim go along with her. Aila helps a bit at this and that in the guest house, but mostly looks after Grim.

I’ve probably heard half of Yaana’s life story now. I knew she came from Oushi, but I didn’t know much else. Her story reminds me a bit of Aari’s, although it’s actually very different.

She told me a lot of things that I don’t think I should write down – although this diary is very private, there’s no guarantee it will remain so forever. Vantun is a long way away, but sailors might come and go occasionally. As far as I know the only person here who knows any English is Judd, and I don’t think he can read it. But this side of the Maze isn’t like the Manafa side, where even though English is spoken at Ballerra, the writing is different. There’s not a soul that side who could read my diary.

But here there just might be.

There’s a lot of stuff in here that’s very private already – but it’s either my own history and I don’t care, or it’s Aari’s or Zhiishii’s, and they don’t care any more either. Sadly. Oh, and Dempsey’s, but she’s in a completely different world. If she’s still alive. Hell, I’m eighty-six, she’s eighty seven.

But committing Yaana’s story to paper doesn’t seem right, not even in English.

812 Winter 7,2

Visited yesterday by the children from next door, just checking to see if Uncle is okay. They hadn’t seen me for a couple of days. Their Maama sent them round.

I just realized that I’ve not written about them before. They moved in after Oeli died. I don’t know the history of the family, just that Griisha is a widow. She’s from Iimoni. I presume her husband was a Laanohan, or had a job here, but I don’t know and don’t inquire.

813 Winter 11,3

Snow. More snow. Yet more snow. Viilam is on his way to Briggi, due to stop at Belgaam tonight. Briggi tomorrow night. If the snow’s like this at sea level in Laanoha, I dread to think what the line will be like on the top north of Tambuk.

813 Winter 11,6

Viilam is back already. The line is closed north of Belgaam. He and Berraami and Peyr will be running a shuttle between Laanoha and Belgaam until further notice. Jinni and Faahiha and Rodd and Parruk¹ are stuck somewhere further north – hopefully safe in the inns!

814 Spring 1,4

The line is open right through again at last. Jinni was stuck in the cab for three days, right on the top! Thankfully the Tambuk men got through to her before she ran out of firewood, sensibly keeping the fire burning low, just enough to keep herself warm and stop the boiler from freezing.

The main line to Meyroha has been running normally the whole while, no problems at all. It doesn’t go as high, nor as far north. There’s a lot of snow in the mountains between here and Mezham, but nothing like what there must have been north of Tambuk.

I say “normally” – well, very nearly. They’re only running short trains, a little over half normal length, and they’ve got an extra banking engine on the mountain section. The Belgaam shuttles were short trains, too.

Down here it’s all been gone for ages. Even the top of the point’s been clear for a couple of weeks.

814 Spring 2,7

Singsong at the Railwayyard last night, as usual.

Parruk has written a song about the snow, and Jinni getting stuck. He was at Tambuk, waiting for her to arrive before he could take his train north to Briggi, when she got stuck. He was part of the team, otherwise all Tambuk men, who went and dug her out.

He had a load of firewood for Briggi on his train, amongst other things, so he and the Tambuk men unloaded several wagons, filled the stores at Tambuk, and carried nearly a ton to Jinni’s train to keep the fire burning, low, to stop the boiler freezing. They kept that fire going for two solid weeks.

They detached all but the empty wagons from his train, and then tried to take it back south, but got stuck halfway to Kaahes. Luckily they were able to reverse back to Tambuk!

He and Jinni were both stuck at Tambuk for nearly two weeks.

Anyway, his song went down really well. Not just good words, he’s got a great voice, too. Everyone will remember how Jinni got stuck – and how she got saved!

816 Winter 12,1

I really can’t get to Behmi’s today. Viilam isn’t due back from Briggi until the day after tomorrow, and without his help I daren’t try to get up the hill with all this ice. I hope they have a good singsong without me. I’m not sure whether Parruk will be there today or not. He’s probably somewhere between here and Briggi, I don’t know.

This will be the first time I’ve missed without letting them know, and I feel dreadful about it.

816 Winter 12,2

Bless Yaana’s heart. First thing this morning, a little soft knock on the door.

Are you okay? We missed your mizma and your voice last night!

I’m fine, just too scared of falling over again on the ice.

I never wrote about that. Last year I fell on the ice, slid halfway down the street, and broke my shin. And my arm. Not a good thing to do at eighty-nine. But the doc plastered them for me and they mended okay and Judd made me a pair of sticks and I’ve been getting about again.

But carefully!

Yaana brought fish and vegetables and made lunch for both of us. Bless her heart. She’s no spring chicken herself, but probably twenty years younger than me. But until you see her face up close and notice her white hair, you’d think she was a teenager. She’s still up on the cliffs auking every spring. She and Aila both now – and they look like twins, not grandmother and granddaughter.

822 Autumn 9,2

Judd visited yesterday, with exciting news. Peyr picked up a stranger in the train a week ago – a stranger who speaks English. The tale is somewhat confused, I think, which is not surprising since he speaks no Laana, and Judd’s English is fairly skimpy. Judd thinks he’s from England, but that’s hard to believe. Peyr picked him up at the Sirimi road crossing, but how he got there Judd doesn’t know. Very odd, middle of nowhere, really. Judd thinks there’s something about this young man, something rather special. He can’t put his finger on exactly what, though².

Sometime I must meet him. If English is really his first language, he’s surely from Vantun. It’ll be good to chat anyway, especially for him. I remember what it was like for me at Kep and Faguri. At least he’s fallen in with good people. You can’t ask for kinder, more considerate folk than Yaana’s family.

822 Autumn 10,1

Owen. So that’s his name. Doesn’t sound Vantunese, nor Ballerran for that matter. In fact it sounds proper English – I knew two Owens in London. He can’t really be from England, can he? How the hell did he get here, if he is? Another shipwreck south of Kobo’a? And a passage through the Maze? Or are there other routes somewhere? Presumably equally hazardous, or I’d have met more over the years.

822 Autumn 10,2

There was an earthquake this evening. I hope it wasn’t too bad further north.

822 Autumn 11,1

Met Owen. Must write about th

{Birgom died peacefully in his sleep during the night of 822 Winter 3,2, aged 96 years and 3 seasons, plus or minus a few days, with Viilam and Judd at his side. They say he was lucid to the end and wanted to write, but was too tired.}

[He had a lot to write about, that he was involved in during those last few weeks. But that’s really Owen’s story, and you’ll have to read Exile for that.]

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