Sepwise and Andrew instinctively looked at the ground and gave the smartly dressed man a wide berth. They knew better than to make eye contact with a man holding a clipboard.
But they acted in vain. The hunter had identified his prey, and with the swiftness of an eagle had homed in on them, his metaphysical claws firmly embedded in the theoretical torso of their journey through spacetime.
‘Would you mind sparing a couple of minutes for a market research survey?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Sepwise bluntly and turning away from him. But the researcher stepped relentlessly round with him.
‘It won’t take long,’ he said.
‘No,’ persisted Sepwise.
‘It’s for an independent research association located on the other side of the island,’ the man continued. ‘We wish to produce the first thorough evaluation of the trading habits of Gillmar’s population. Really, it won’t take very long.’
‘Ah,’ said Sepwise, grasping hold of the faintest glimmer of hope that they might still escape his clutches, ‘we’re not local.’
‘Oh, more the better,’ said the surveyor gleefully. ‘We’re after foreigners’ views as well.’
‘Oh, that’s handy,’ said Sepwise from between his teeth, seeing no other way out. He’d been well and truly ensnared.
‘There are only a few questions,’ the researcher started.
Sepwise grimaced. ‘A few’ usually meant just less than one thousand to these people.
‘First: have you ever purchased an item with magical properties on this island?’
‘No,’ said Sepwise.
‘Have you sold any such items?’
‘No.’
‘Have you visited the gift shop at the Bay of Roughsea?’
‘Er, no,’ replied the scientist, wondering what a gift shop was doing on an uncharted island.
‘And have you ever haggled over price with a forest market trader?’
‘No, I didn’t even know there were any forest markets,’ said Sepwise in surprise.
‘Oh, well that rather answers the next three questions for me,’ said the researcher, ticking three more boxes with his quill. ‘Do you believe the taxes here to be too hefty? Oh, no, sorry, that’s for locals only. Ah, here we go. Have you at any time been dissatisfied with the service you have received from a retailer?’
‘Not as far as I can recall,’ said Sepwise.
‘Have you ever purchased a traditional Gillmarian tree-skin hat?’
‘Tree-skin? What’s that?’
‘Bark,’ said the researcher. Andrew made a noise like a dog, but stopped as soon as he realised he’d made a fool of himself.
‘No I haven’t,’ said Sepwise.
‘Do you think you will return to Gillmar again?’
‘No.’
‘For what purpose are you visiting: business or pleasure?’
‘Er, business, I suppose.’
‘And are you glad you chose to conduct your work here?’
‘Absolutely not,’ said Sepwise with too much certainty.
‘So you don’t think we’ve got it quite right when it comes to accommodating the professional, then?’
‘No I don’t,’ replied the alchemist.
‘Hmm. Nearly there,’ said the researcher, sensing Sepwise’s increasing malaise. ‘Just two more questions. Do you, or would you ever, recommend Gillmar to friends or relatives for either holidays or business trips?’
‘I think not.’
‘I see. So, how do you feel we could improve the appeal of the island?’
Sepwise thought about this carefully. If there was one thing about the island that he could change, one thing that would have made his time here that bit more bearable, what would it be? He mulled the events of the preceding three days around in his mind fully before deciding on a reply.
‘Get rid of all the market researchers,’ he said finally.
‘Excellent,’ said the smartly dressed man. ‘That just about wraps it up. If you’d like to give me your address before I go, we can contact you in the future and discuss whether you’d like to complete further surveys for us.’
‘Okay,’ said Sepwise unexpectedly.
The researcher was completely taken aback. It is a well known fact in the world of market surveying that nobody ever volunteers their address. It was so unprecedented that there wasn’t even a space for it on the front of the form, so he wrote it on the back. When he’d finished, the researcher packed the quill and the form into a small briefcase and marched off happily into the trees.
‘Why did you give him your address?’ asked Andrew.
‘I didn’t,’ said Sepwise. ‘I gave him yours.’