Line towns

A runner's gazetteer, Saltreach hall edition, 39 AS. Kilometres are the Authority's ground survey, counted from the foot of the Stump. The ribbon itself is longer than the ground it covers, because of the coil. Opinions are the hall's own.

The Line at a glance

Port Anselm, kilometre 0

The Line starts here, and so do its rules. White terraces climb the hill above the harbour, the Authority's towers stand over the old elevator plaza, and out of the plaza rises the Stump: two kilometres of standing ribbon, braced in its tower, the last of the elevator still upright. You will see it from a day out on a clear morning, a dark needle with a silver edge.

The western terraces were rebuilt after the Snap, around the fallen ribbon rather than on top of it. The ribbon leaves the city on a raised causeway the locals call the Ribbon Walk. Sled bays are at the Authority depot. You will be asked for your licence twice. Have it ready both times.

The Stump is closed to the public. Its maintenance stair belongs to the Authority, and the Authority means it.

Gantry, kilometre 410

A construction depot before the Snap, a scrapyard after it, and now the best place on the Line to buy a clamp, a hull panel or a story about where either came from. Gantry's sledwrights are the best there are and know it. If you need a part, Gantry has one. If you need it cheap, Gantry has a cousin.

Dunmarrow, kilometres 1,900 to 4,600

Red dunes, red dust, and storms that can bury the ribbon for days. When a Dunmarrow storm comes, clamp down hard, feather the sail, cover your face, put your back to the wind and wait. Do not try to outrun a Dunmarrow storm unless you are faster than the storm. Every runner who has tried thought they were.

Cistern, kilometre 2,950

Built around deep wells under the ribbon. Cistern started the Toll Wars and signed the Compact, and is touchy about both. Water is sold at the wells, lawfully, and is worth every coin. The shade is free and so is the advice.

Windbreak, kilometre 4,100

Built behind a wall of old sled hulls stacked against the prevailing wind. The memorial to the ambush of 4 AS stands at the western gate. Runners touch it on the way out.

The Glass Sea, kilometres 4,700 to 6,900

A white salt flat as wide as a country. At noon the salt is brighter than the sky and the ribbon is the only dark thing in the world. Wear goggles, or learn to run by ear. Scrape the salt off your runner shoes at every stop.

Whiteholm, kilometre 5,420

Salt works, drying sheds and the warden's house of the western reach. The first sail-sled was built here, as Whiteholm will tell you.

Saltreach, kilometre 6,200

Home of this hall. Low white buildings, wind turbines turning over the salt pans, sled bays in long rows. The Compact was signed in the salt shed behind the hall, and the shed still stands. The Glass Sea race starts and finishes here every year. We are biased. It is the best town on the Line.

The Long Shallows, kilometres 7,200 to 8,500

Here the ribbon crosses open water, floating on pontoons that Tarry's raftwrights began building in 2 AS and the Authority's Pontoon Office keeps today. The pontoons are built for weight that passes, not weight that rests. Never stop on a pontoon section. If you must stop, pull off onto a hard: the timber platforms built beside the line every sixty kilometres or so, with rain tanks and mooring rings. A night on a hard, with the sea all round and the ribbon lit by the moon, is one of the good things in a runner's life.

Tarry, kilometre 7,780

A floating town of tar, rope and planking. Tarry's people will tell you they raised the Line out of the sea with their own hands. They did.

Coiltown, kilometre 9,000

Here the falling ribbon piled onto itself in great loops, hundreds of metres high, and a town grew inside them. Houses hang from the ribbon like nests. Lamps hang from the houses. Bridges hang from everything. Runners cross the coil by the Low Road, a ramp of packed salt and timber that the town keeps free under the Compact. Look up once. Then watch your footing.

The Coil Tavern is the best place on the Line to hear stories about the ribbon singing, and the worst place to admit you believe them.

Brannock and the far reach

Past Coiltown the land turns green. Brannock, at kilometre 11,600, is a river town of herders and orchards, run by the family it is named after, who will feed you.

Beyond Brannock the grass gives way to dunes again, and somewhere around kilometre 13,300 the ribbon ends, half buried, at the Tail. There is nothing at the Tail. Runners go anyway, once.