While I was unpacking the groceries I turned on the small TV on the counter, and discovered a newsflash in progress. A troopship had run into difficulties in shallow waters close to the island of Fellenstel. The ship was aground and had developed a list, but so far there were no reports of casualties. The TV reporter said that there were believed to be more than two thousand young conscript soldiers aboard. Helicopter shots of the ship showed no one moving around on the visible parts of the vessel, and the lifeboats were still held high in station. There were several tugs and a salvage ship in the vicinity. The marine authorities were hoping to refloat the ship on the next high tide, although there were signs that the hull had been damaged. An amount of fuel oil had been spilled. The seigniory of Fellenstel was furiously demanding compensation from the Republic of Glaund, under whose flag the ship was sailing.

The TV channel returned to the programme it had been showing. I switched it off.

The passage of troopships through the shallow waters of the Archipelago was a constant cause of anger and concern among the islands. The mere presence of a military vessel was an outrage against the Covenant of Neutrality, the treaty which declared the whole of the Archipelago a neutral zone. Every inhabited island and island group supported and defended the Covenant.

The two warring countries on the vast northern continent, the Glaund Republic and Faiandland, were no respecters of Archipelagian law. They transported their conscript armies to the south, where the war was being fought out on Sudmaieure, the unpopulated polar continent. Their war had been in progress for more than a century, in cruel and freezing conditions for the troops, with no apparent end in sight. Some of the troops were taken to war by air, but most of the unfortunate young people were crammed into the closed grey ships. The troopships were often too large for many of the channels between the islands.

Ordinary islanders, like me, felt unable to change or influence the situation in any way. For much of the time we lived our lives unaffected by it. Of course, there were protest movements, and I supported a relatively effective group on Raba. Once a year I would take part in a peaceful demonstration in the centre of Raba City. We never seemed to change anything, but it always felt better than doing nothing.

The only way we islanders could have a practical influence on the conduct of the war was in the matter of deserters. This was a subject of deep island pride.