Terry Pratchett - Nation

“Oh, I know about those,” said Mau.

“Yes, I think you do.” Daphne smiled. “Now come out into the fresh air.”

She took Mau’s hand. There were a few nasty grazes that he didn’t remember getting, his whole body felt stiff, and there was a ragged wound where the flesh of his ear had been, but it could have been a lot worse. He remembered the bullet in the water, slowing down and dropping into his hand. Water could be hard — you only had to belly flop from a height to know that — but even so…

“Come on!” said Daphne, dragging him into the light.

The Women’s Place was full. There were people in the fields. The beach was busy. There were even children playing in the lagoon.

“We’ve got so much to do,” said Mau, shaking his head.

“They are already doing it,” said Daphne.

They watched in silence. Soon people would spot them and they would be back in the world again, but right now they were part of the scenery.

After a while the girl said: “I remember when it was… just nothing, and there was a boy who didn’t even see me.”

And the boy said: “I remember a ghost girl.”

After a longer silence, the girl asked: “Would you go back? If you could?”

“You mean, without the wave?”

“Yes. Without the wave.”

“Then I’d have gone home, and everyone would have been alive, and I would be a man.”

“Would you rather be that man? Would you change places with him?” asked the ghost girl.

“And not be me? Not know about the globe? Not have met you?”

“Yes!”

Mau opened his mouth to reply and found it choked with words. He had to wait until he could see a path through them.

“How can I answer you? There is no language. There was a boy called Mau. I see him in my memory, so proud of himself because he was going to be a man. He cried for his family and turned the tears into rage. And if he could, he would say ‘Did not happen!’ and the wave would roll backward and never have been. But there is another boy, and he is called Mau, too, and his head is on fire with new things. What does he say? He was born in the wave, and he knows that the world is round, and he met a ghost girl who is sorry she shot at him. He called himself the little blue hermit crab, scuttling across the sand in search of a new shell, but now he looks at the sky and knows that no shell will ever be big enough, ever. Will you ask him not to be? Any answer will be the wrong one. All I can be is who I am. But sometimes I hear the boy inside crying for his family.”

“Does he cry now?” asked Daphne, looking down at the ground.

“Every day. But very softly. You won’t hear him. Listen, I must tell you this. Locaha spoke to me. He spread his great wings over me on the beach and drove the Raiders away. Didn’t you see that?”

“No. The Raiders ran as soon as Cox went down,” said Daphne. “You mean you met Death? Again?”

“He told me that there were more worlds than there are numbers. There is no such thing as ‘does not happen.’ But there is always ‘happened somewhere else’ — ” He tried to explain, while she tried to understand.

When he’d run out of words, she said: “You mean that there is a world where the wave didn’t happen? Out… there somewhere?”

“I think so…. I think I’ve almost seen it. Sometimes, at night, when I’m watching the shore, I almost see it. I nearly hear it! And there is a Mau there, a man who is me, and I pity him, because there is no ghost girl in his world….”

She put her arms around his neck and gently pulled him toward her. “I wouldn’t change anything,” she said. “Here I’m not some sort of doll. I have a purpose. People listen to me. I’ve done amazing things. How could I go back to my life before?”

“Is that what you’ll tell your father?” His voice was suddenly sad.

“Something like that, I think, yes.”

Mau gently turned her around, so that she was looking at the sea.

“There’s a ship coming,” he said.

The schooner had anchored outside the reef by the time they had got down to the lagoon. Daphne waded out as far as she could, regardless of her dress floating up around her, while a boat was lowered.

On the shore, Mau watched as the man in the prow of the boat jumped off as soon as it was near her and, laughing and crying together, they helped each other up the slope of the sand. The crowd moved back to give them room as they embraced — but Mau was watching the two men climbing out of the boat. They had red jackets on and held complicated sticks, and looked at Mau as if he was, at best, a nuisance.

“Let me look at you,” said His Excellency, standing back. “Why, you look — What happened to you? There’s blood on your shoulder! We have a doctor on board, and I’ll get him to — ”

Daphne glanced down. “It’s just a splash,” she said, waving a hand. “Besides, it’s not mine. I had to saw a man’s leg off, and I haven’t had time to wash.”

Behind them a third soldier got out of the boat carrying a thick tube, which he began to unroll. He looked nervously at Mau.

“What is happening here?” snapped Mau. “Why do they have guns? What is this man doing?” He stepped forward, and two bayonets barred his way.

Daphne turned her head and pulled away from her father. “What’s this?” she demanded. “You can’t stop him from walking around in his own country! What’s in that tube? It’s a flag, isn’t it? You brought a flag! And guns!”

“We didn’t know what we were going to find, dear,” said her father, taken aback. “After all, there are cannon up there.”

“Well, all right, yes,” muttered Daphne, stumbling over her own anger. “They’re just for show.” The rage flamed up again. “But those guns aren’t! Put them down!”

His Excellency nodded at the men, who put their muskets, very carefully but also very quickly, down on the sand. Milo had just walked onto the beach to see what the fuss was about, and he tended to loom.

“And the flag!” said Daphne.

“Just hold on to it, Evans, if you would be so kind,” said His Excellency. “Look, dear, we mean no harm to these, er” — he glanced up at Milo — “nice people, but we must back up our claim to the Mothering Sunday Islands. We hold that they are just an extension of the Bank Holiday Monday Islands — ”

“Who’s we? You?”

“Well, ultimately the king — ”

“He can’t have this one!” Daphne screamed. “He doesn’t need it! He can’t have it! He hasn’t finished with Canada yet!”

“Dear, I think the privations of your time on this island may have affected you in some way — ” His Excellency began.

Daphne took a step backward. “Privations? There is nowhere I would rather have been than here! I’ve helped babies to be born! I killed a man — ”

“The one whose leg you sawed off?” asked her father, mystified.

“What? Him? No, he’s doing very well,” said Daphne, waving a hand dismissively. “The one I killed was a murderer. And I’ve made beer. Really good beer! Father, you must listen right now. It’s very important that you understand right now. This is the other end of the world, Father, it really is. This is the beginning. This… is the place where you might grant God absolution.”

She hadn’t meant it to come out. He stood there, stunned.

She added: “I’m sorry. You and Grandmother were shouting so loud that night and I couldn’t help overhearing,” and, since there was no point in being deceitful at a time like this, she also added, “Especially since I was trying hard to.”

He looked up at her, his face gray. “What is so special about this place?” he asked.

“There’s a cave. It’s got wonderful carvings in it. It’s ancient. It may be more than a hundred thousand years old.”