Sepwise tried to conceal a yawn. He’d been up late the previous night drawing up the regulations for his expedition; only 400 pages so far, but it was a start.
He turned his attention to the peculiar man sitting opposite him who had introduced himself as Andrew the Geographer and who was twiddling his thumbs awkwardly. Sepwise studied Andrew’s immaculate blond hair and wasn’t impressed. He had hoped for a seasoned adventurer or legendary warrior, not a nervous whatever-it-was-Andrew-was. Still, he thought, the man was here now, it would be rude not to give him a chance to earn his place in the expedition.
‘So, you say you’re a geographer, then?’ Sepwise asked eventually.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Andrew answered, rather nervously. He had a pronounced speech defect that resulted in every ‘s’ he uttered sounding like ‘sh’, which made him sound very slightly drunk. Sepwise was desperately trying not to react to it. He could tell Andrew was trying his best to suppress it, but sadly it wasn’t really working.
The scientist looked up to the ceiling of the small lounge of the Book and Whistle and considered. What exactly was a geographer? Would one make a good adventurer? Come to think of it, who would make a good adventurer anyway? He had to admit he didn’t really know. And did all geographers talk like that, or was this one just a substandard specimen?
Ready to find out some answers, Sepwise turned round sharply to face Andrew once again, catching him staring at his beard, which was of such a length that it took a moment to catch up with the rest of his face.
‘I like your robes,’ said Andrew unexpectedly. ‘I like the purpley red colour.’
‘Well, thank you very much. However they are but the uniform of a science school graduate. Certainly no fashion statement, har har har.’
Andrew simply sat there. Sewise decided to plough on with the interview. ‘What can you offer me, Andrew? What can you contribute to my expedition? What skills do you possess that may be useful to a band of intrepid explorers?’
Andrew thought for a moment. And a moment longer. And then some more. Sepwise began to suspect he didn’t have any skills.
‘Well,’ fumbled Andrew eventually, ‘I can, for example, inform you of the current East-West migration of people looking for better jobs and higher standards of living.’
Sepwise mulled this over. It didn’t really seem much use, but at least it was something. And in his experience, where there’s something, there’s very often something else - and something that might actually be of value at that.
‘Anything else?’ prompted Sepwise.
‘Oh yes, yes. Geography covers all aspects of the world we live in. I am an expert in all sorts of areas, from migration, climatology, pedology, demography, economics and glaciology, to management of urban, rural, coastal and marine environments, the structure of transvillage and transkingdom companies and much more.’
‘Is that it?’ asked Sepwise, absolutely and totally bewildered.
‘Oh, no. My particular area of expertise is hazard geography, the study of phenomena that are hazardous to mankind and the categorisation of these hazards dependant on whether they affect the built, human or physical environments.’
Despite the occasional ‘zh’ rather than ‘z’ creeping into that speech, Sepwise was mildly impressed. He could see that Andrew was very proud of his occupation, and rightly so - after all, he had invented it entirely by himself. He was clearly a man dedicated to his work. But it would make the scientist’s decision so much easier if he could demonstrate one thing, no matter how tiny or insignificant, but just one thing that may be of benefit to the expedition. Sepwise felt that he had to press Andrew harder to find out if this elusive ‘thing’ existed.
‘Alright, Andrew,’ he said. ‘This is my problem. I need to recruit four people to go with me. So far, in the three months that my advert has been in the window, you are the only one brave enough to have replied. I would love to have you in my team, but you must prove your worth. This geography stuff is all well and good, but what use is it when we’re stranded on a hostile island about to be eaten alive by a flock of flesh-eating monster birds?’
Andrew considered this for a bit. Sepwise put his head in his hands and prepared for another awkward lull in proceedings.
‘I suppose I am quite good at climatology and meteorology,’ Andrew said after a few moments.
‘And what in the name of Safariz is that then?’ asked Sepwise.
‘Well, I might be able to tell if it’s going to rain or not,’ responded Andrew unconvincingly, his face screwed up in uncertainty.
But Sepwise was impressed. A man who can tell if it’s going to rain? This was far beyond even Sepwise’s knowledge. The only people that had that sort of insight were the Mystics of the Eastern Lands, and they were too caught up in their funny symbols and peculiar ceremonies to be of any use to anybody. To have powers comparable to the Mystics was unprecedented.
‘Alright,’ said Sepwise. ‘You’re in. Congratulations.’ He leaned forward and shook hands with Andrew, who seemed more than a little surprised.
‘Oh, right. Well, thanks very much. Yes, thanks,’ said Andrew. Sepwise disengaged his hand and sat back heavily into his chair. He looked at Andrew. Andrew looked at the table. Neither could think of anything to say, such was the rapport between the two.
It was Andrew who eventually broke the silence. ‘So, where will we be going?’ he asked.
Sepwise smiled and his eyes twinkled. ‘Ah, yes, the destination,’ he said, once more leaning across towards Andrew. ‘I am, how shall I say, on good terms with certain merchant sailors. They tell me the latest tales from the oceans. Mostly it’s all rubbish, stuff about giant whelks and huge monsters and mermaids and whatever, but there have been some quite intriguing rumours that have found their way to my ears. One of these caught my attention in particular. Apparently there is an island out to the East, not so very far away, but sufficiently out of the way of standard shipping routes to be virtually uncharted. As far as I can make out only one crew has ever attempted to land there, and they haven’t been seen since.’
Andrew thought about this for a bit. ‘So, we’re not actually going to be discovering anywhere, then,’ he said, ‘we’ll just be exploring it?’
‘If you like, yes,’ said Sepwise. ‘It’s not easy to discover places, you know. You have to get hold of a ship, then sail the seas for many years until you find an island that looks like it hasn’t been seen before…’
‘And how can you tell that?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Sepwise, ‘maybe by the way it’s populated only by a primitive tribe of lost pygmies or something. The point is, it doesn’t matter, because we’re not going discovering, we’re going exploring. There’s a difference.’
‘Okay,’ said Andrew, accepting this happily, ‘so what’s this island called?’
‘It’s called Gillmar,’ said Sepwise. ‘It was named after, er, well, I don’t know what it was named after, but it must have been something pretty damned important, I can tell you that.’
‘Oh, of course,’ said Andrew, getting into the spirit of things. ‘It could have been named after the first Emperor of Thercoup.’
Sepwise frowned, something he always found himself doing despite the fact that he knew it made him look very silly - burrowing his bushy white eyebrows into several folds of skin made them look like two albino caterpillars hiding in very thick custard, and he hated it. He forced the frown away and said, ‘What, Jahoobalo the Mighty?’
‘Oh. Was he the first Emperor?’
Sepwise nodded his head slowly.
‘Ah, then it won’t have been named after him, then.’
Pause.
‘Right,’ said Sepwise eventually. ‘Now we must discuss luggage.’
‘Why?’ asked Andrew.
‘Because it’s a vital part of exploration. You can no more go exploring with the wrong kind of luggage than you can go skiing with two opera singers strapped to your feet.’
‘That important, huh?’ said Andrew.
‘Absolutely. Now, listen carefully, this is very important...’