Terry Pratchett - The Long Utopia

Agnes said, ‘What a cheek. This is our world, not theirs.’

‘Quite.’

‘So what does this all mean, Lobsang? What are these creatures up to? And how does it fit in with the days getting shorter?’

‘That’s what we mean to find out.’

‘Well, something’s wrong, that’s for sure; this old planet’s broken down and groaning …’

Joshua, who had known Agnes and her tastes all his life, grinned at that. Lobsang looked confused.

Ben’s soft voice called from outside. ‘George?’

Lobsang pushed back his chair and stood. ‘I’ll go see to him.’

Agnes said, ‘Lunch will be ready soon.’

Joshua stood too. ‘You need a hand, Agnes?’

She waved vaguely. ‘If you like. I’m making chicken soup. Find what you can and improvise.’

He smiled, and began looking out ingredients and implements: vegetables, a chunk of goat’s cheese, seasoning, a sharp knife and a chopping board.

‘You always were a good cook,’ Agnes said. ‘Even when you were no older than Ben is now.’ She looked sideways at him. ‘And you are taking Lobsang’s non-death well, I must say. I know you said you weren’t too surprised, but …’

Joshua grunted. ‘He’s pulled a lot of stunts before. And I was half expecting a call.’

She glanced at him. ‘Why? … Oh. You’re talking about your headaches. The Silence, or the lack of it.’

Joshua had his own peculiar sensitivities to the condition of the Long Earth, it seemed, and had done since he was a boy. When the Sisters had seen him come home from his solo teenage jaunts in distress, they’d tried to tease out of him what he was sensing, feeling: trying to get the ineffable out of the most taciturn boy Agnes had ever met. He would speak of a Silence that wasn’t a Silence, or of a sound that wasn’t there, like an echo from distant mountains … He couldn’t articulate what was evidently an uneasy sense of disturbance that sometimes translated into headaches, storm warnings in his own young head.

‘Do you feel anything now? I mean, here?’

‘Not specifically. It doesn’t work like that, Agnes. This one’s been coming for years, though. Noticed it before my fiftieth birthday, I remember.’ He half-grinned. ‘But when I sensed the thunder clouds gathering, I just knew Lobsang wouldn’t let something as trivial as his own death get in the way of dealing with it.’

‘He did need to recover, Joshua. He was reluctant, in fact, to face up to this business of the silver beetles. It’s a distraction from his – humanity project.’

‘But who else was capable of handling this situation?’

‘Who else, indeed.’

‘And it’s a funny coincidence that, of all the possible locations in the Long Earth, he happens to be right on the spot where he’s most needed. Don’t you think?’

They were here because of Sally Linsay, of course. And Agnes thought back now to Sally’s barely concealed amusement when she had brought them to this place. Had Sally known ? … Just as Agnes had always suspected, had Sally been playing some kind of game of her own all the time?

Suddenly angry, she turned away. ‘Whatever you say.’

‘Agnes, you have any garlic?’

‘There’s some dried in the store. We’ve seeded it to grow wild but it hasn’t taken yet …’

That evening they finished loading the Shillelagh . Lobsang and Joshua said their goodbyes to Ben, and Joshua made a gentle fuss of the cat.

The next day they rose at dawn. The boy was still asleep. Agnes, indoors, sitting with a coffee, heard a hiss of gas filling the buoyancy bags, and a whir of turbines. She went to a window, and saw the twain lift.

Soon the ship was lost in the immensity of the sky.

She went back to bed, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep again, in what was left of this truncated night.

THEY HEADED ROUGHLY south. Running at less than thirty miles per hour, Joshua figured it would take much of the day to reach the Atlantic coast, depending on the precise details of the local geography of this footprint of Maine. Joshua and Lobsang sat side by side in the ship’s battered gondola, which was more like a travel trailer than the spacious liner-like elegance of the Mark Twain , the prototype airship aboard which, more than a quarter of a century before, the two of them had been the first to explore the reaches of the Long Earth, to the High Meggers and beyond.

And under the ship’s prow endless forested landscapes washed by.

‘Trees,’ Joshua said thoughtfully. ‘Lots and lots of trees. You know, the first thing I discovered on Step Day, when I took my own first step out of Datum Madison, out of the Home, was—’

‘Trees.’

‘Yeah. The Long Earth’s big winner, trees.’ The forest purred away below the twain. ‘You say there are trolls here?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Lobsang said.

‘Makes you think. To the trolls the Long Earth must appear as all one forest, a world wide and a million steps deep.’

‘I think they are rather smarter than that, Joshua.’

‘That Madison forest was mainly oak – nothing like this.’

‘The Ice Belt worlds are a lot cooler than this,’ Lobsang said. ‘Here, it’s trees from the poles to the equator.’

‘You know that for sure, do you? You’ve seen it for yourself?’

‘Well, you know that’s not true. What I described to you is our best understanding of a typical member of this particular band of worlds.’

‘OK. But this world evidently isn’t so typical after all, is it? And here we are crawling around the globe like an ant on the rind of a pumpkin. I’m not sure what you’re expecting to find.’

‘Well, think about it, Joshua.’ Lobsang looked up into a blue sky, an apparently serene sun. ‘Even Agnes’s sundials and pendulums have been enough to demonstrate that the spin of this particular Earth is speeding up. And it is just this one, by the way; I ran some checks in the stepwise neighbours, and they’re unaffected …’

‘Why do the New Springfielders stick around, then? Agnes says they go wandering stepwise anyhow. If the neighbouring worlds are still comfortable to live on – and I guess they must be getting steadily out of synch with this one as the days grow shorter …’

Lobsang smiled. ‘But this is the centre, Joshua. This is their world, where the founders ended their trek. According to the records they stopped here because of a particularly rich seam of iron ore, not shared with neighbouring worlds, and I’ve a tentative theory that that is a by-product of this world’s peculiar stepwise linkage …’

Joshua nodded. ‘I get it. A pioneer’s sheer stubbornness.’

‘A stubbornness I feel I share – despite the magnitude of the storm that’s breaking here.’

‘Magnitude?’

‘ If this world really is speeding up its spin, that’s a pretty largescale effect. Already the planet’s spin kinetic energy must have been upped by ten per cent.’

‘Ten per cent? Wow. OK. So if it is these silver beetles who are somehow responsible—’

‘It seems an unlikely coincidence if they’re not.’

‘Then they must be mounting some kind of global operation.’

‘That’s my theory,’ Lobsang said. ‘I figure we’ll recognize it when we see it. Even from the perspective of an ant on a pumpkin rind.’

‘Hmm. I’ll tell you the first thing I noticed that was odd, Lobsang. The moon . On my very first night, something woke me. I looked out the window, there was the crescent moon – and I saw a flash, coming out of the dark side. Like something was being fired out. I figured I’d been disturbed by an earlier flash; this was a second one.’