Terry Pratchett - The Long War

And Helen, incredibly, was in custody, on assault charges.

They were staying with Joshua’s old sparring partner, former MPD Lieutenant Monica Jansson. Jansson’s house, here on the outskirts of Madison West 5—to which the residents of Datum Madison had been rezoned after the nuke—was typical Low Earth architecture, a massive structure of wood of a quality that would once have been impossibly expensive on the Datum. Jansson’s personal past showed in the way the place was studded with bits of high-tech gear: a widescreen TV, cellphones, a laptop.

Jansson was in her fifties now, but looked older, to Joshua’s inexpert gaze. She was thinner than he remembered too, her hair greyed and cut short. And he’d noticed a line of medicines, in small white plastic bottles, on the mantelpiece over the big fireplace—and just above the mantlepiece was Joshua’s sapphire ring on its leather loop, hanging in pride of place from a picture hook on the wall. Encouraged by Helen, he’d brought the ring here with the vague intention of showing it, one of his few impressive trophies of his travels, to a few discreet friends.

On the TV, some geologist was crawling around a bubbling mud pool in a copy of Yellowstone, on some Low Earth or other. Apparently there had been similar disturbances at Datum Yellowstone and at some of its Low Earth footprints. The jokey commentator was talking about geysers failing, wildlife fleeing and such, and how it was actually good for business at the National Park, with people coming in to rubberneck the latest chthonic turmoil in the stepwise copies. Maybe that religious nut at the twain port had been right about the fire and brimstone at Yellowstone, even if he made the wrong interpretation.

Sally said now, “So this Mott guy has never pulled a stunt like this before?”

“Not on the record, no. But a lot of the Firsters are like that nowadays. Their strategies have evolved. They soak up the propaganda, they stay quiet, under the radar, they take to carrying around stakes—”

Joshua asked, “Stakes?”

“That’s their jargon for the weapon he carried. Like staking a vampire, you know? A stake of iron, for a stepper. Very hard to police. And then, out of the blue, they find themselves in some situation where they’re presented with a target of opportunity. Such as near a twain terminal, but outside the security barriers so nobody knows what he has in the bag—where this guy met you, Joshua.”

“And recognized your face,” Sally said dryly.

“And—bang. He would have been aiming for your heart, by the way. Even if he missed the heart, he might have caused you problems if you tried to step away with a chunk of steel sitting in your chest.”

Sally grunted. “I’m hearing that there are countries on the Datum where governments are doing that kind of thing purposefully. Surgically fixing iron clips to your heart, or an artery.”

Jansson said, “Yeah. They call it stapling. Look, don’t worry. Mott’s still in custody; he’ll be charged. Datum law-enforcement isn’t what it was in my day, but you don’t get away with attacks like that.”

“And nor does my wife, it seems,” Joshua said bitterly. “I can’t believe they charged Helen with assault.”

“Well, she did lay the guy out. Quite a haymaker. She’ll get off with a reprimand, it was self-defence—”

“She’s still in custody! They took away her Stepper, won’t even give her bail. How long will we have to wait to get her out?”

“That’s the policy now with non-residents of the Low Earths or the Datum, I’m afraid.”

Sally shook her head. “The Datum’s become a world full of paranoids, run by paranoids. No wonder we never come back.”

“Well, you came back this time for a reason,” Jansson said to Joshua. “Your meeting with Senator Starling, right?”

“To talk about this issue of the trolls, yes.” He shrugged, making his shoulder ache anew. “Thanks to you, Jansson—I know you opened a few doors to set that up. But now I’m doubting the wisdom of coming here at all.”

“You have to try,” Sally snapped. “We went through this back at Hell-Knows-Where.”

He said tiredly, “Sure. But now we’re here it’s obvious that the issue of the welfare of trolls isn’t going to be at the top of the Datum political agenda.”

Jansson nodded. “You may be right. But the case of Mary out at the Gap has made the news even on the Datum. It’s such an exceptional case, such obvious cruelty and injustice, in the middle of a space programme, for God’s sake. It couldn’t be higher profile, and presents an opportunity for change. Which is why I did what I could to help set up your meeting with Starling.”

Sally said, “Exactly. Joshua, what’s the use of your having a famous face if you don’t use it for good?”

He grunted. “All my ‘famous face’ has done for me so far is get me stabbed, my wife put in custody, and my kid scared out of his wits.”

Jansson glanced out the window at Dan. “Oh, I think that little pioneer’s tougher than that.”

Joshua grimaced. “President Cowley would say he’s a little mutant.”

Jansson smiled sadly. “Also a sinner.”

Sally nodded. “Genesis 3:19. We saw the posters.”

Joshua closed his eyes, remembering Bible classes at the Home. “What God told Adam and Eve after the expulsion from Eden. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return .”

“That’s it,” Jansson said. “God has put us on this world, or worlds, to work. You comber types, happy to just wander around—or at least that’s how you’re painted here—are a bunch of slackers. Without work mankind can’t progress… and so on.”

Joshua sighed. “And so, pushed by such madness, we slide into war, or something.”

Jansson sipped her coffee. Joshua thought he saw her shiver, though the day wasn’t cold.

He asked gently, “And how are you, Monica?”

She looked up. “Best to stick to Lieutenant Jansson, don’t you think?”

“You’re settled here in West 5?”

“Well, nobody’s allowed to stay long back in Datum Madison even now. They might let you back for a while, Joshua, if you want to see it. I could pull a few strings. It’s an eerie place to see. The wildlife is flourishing. Prairie flowers sprouting in flash-burned rubble. America’s Chernobyl, they call it. It’s slowly healing, I guess.”

He said carefully, “And are you?”

She looked at him tiredly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s leukaemia. My own stupid fault. I was too eager to go hopping back and forth to the Datum after the blast. But it’s manageable with drugs, and they’re talking about gene therapy.”

“You always tried to put things right,” Joshua said abruptly. “That’s what I always recognized in you.”

She shrugged. “That’s a cop’s job.”

“But you took it a bit further than most. I always responded to that.” He reached over, wincing as his shoulder ached, and touched her hand. “Just don’t give up yet. OK?”

Sally stood up impatiently. “If you two are going to get all mushy on me I’m out of here.”

Joshua turned. “You’re not going already?”

She winked. “I always have chores, Joshua. You know me. I’ll be back. So long, Lieutenant Jansson.” And she disappeared with a soft pop.

Jansson raised her eyebrows. “I’ll make some more coffee.”

Marlon Jackson, Senator Starling’s aide, was determined to take the meeting with this bizarre Valienté pioneer-type character on the chin.

Jim Starling was mostly manageable, in Jackson’s experience. Regrettably the Senator had a good if erratic memory, which could make him devilishly difficult to steer in the way a decent aide should be able to. But at least the Senator’s tantrums were generally short and futile, and in that the man was not unlike Jackson’s great-grandfather’s description of Lyndon B. Johnson: “A goddamn tornado until he ran down, and then you could get the work done.” Jackson’s forebears had been behind-the-scenes toilers for democracy for generations.