The Long War

As the Franklin ploughed through the worlds, Maggie Kauffman wondered—not for the first time since the start of this mission—whether the whole Long Earth was a test which humanity was singularly failing. On the one hand there were still Datum-Earthers who led lives that had nothing to do with the landscape outside their heads, the immensity beyond their garden walls; and on the other hand, even now, twenty-five years after Step Day, there were still people stepping East and West, even to the High Meggers and beyond, without so much as looking up which mushrooms were safe to pick. One of the unstated duties of this voyage, as it had emerged, was to give a ride to a place of safety to the wounded, or even just the severely embarrassed, who had given up after their first winter without electricity, or a visit by an unexpected bear or pack of wolves—or maybe the odd dinosaur-descendant if you went far enough. Smart people, while they might at first have everything to learn, soon developed effective ways of making things work out here, but Maggie was seeing very little of them. Dumb people kept doing dumb things—such as shooting trolls, despite the intense political atmosphere after the Gap incident. And it was to the fallout from such dumbness that the Franklin, Maggie was finding, was repeatedly summoned.

So the dirigible drifted across arid versions of Texas, listening out on shortwave, looking for a party whose location stepwise and geographically was only roughly known. The crew was intrigued by accounts of the disaster that had befallen the Pennsylvania; Maggie ascertained that no assistance was needed from her in the aftermath.

At last, not far from the footprint of Houston, the ship flew over a rough campsite, with a small, solitary figure looking up from below. Nathan Boss pointed out a clump of woods near by which showed a lot of disturbance, the result of some kind of fight maybe.

And Mac gently drew her attention to an infrared image of slumped, cooling forms, deep inside the forest clump. Where the bodies had been dumped, evidently.

Maggie, Nathan and Joe Mackenzie descended. The lone figure at the campsite, a woman, waiting for them by a smoking fire, was a tough-looking forty-something—a few years older than Maggie—evidently a pioneer type. She gave her name simply as “Sally’. Among the weaponry lashed to her back was a ceramic composite rifle, and she had a face full of unfinished business.

Maggie knew her officers well enough to be sure they would step lightly. And she also knew, she thought, from her pre-mission briefings on the Long Earth, who this woman was.

Sally offered them coffee, rolls of bedding to sit on. After that she didn’t waste any time. “I don’t want you here. I believe in handling this kind of stuff myself. I

didn’t call you.”

Nathan asked, “Then who did?”

“He’s long gone—lit out of here. However, you’re here. So here’s the set-up. I’ve secured near by several so-called scientists who have killed at least three trolls.”

Nathan asked, “Scientists?”

“Biologists. Actually up here to study the trolls, so they say. One of them was the one who called for help; I let him go. The rest—”

“And ‘secured’?” Maggie asked sharply. “What do you mean by that?”

Sally grinned evilly. “The trolls were captured here for some kind of ‘experiment’ in cross-breeding with other humanoids. Unsurprisingly they resisted and stepped away, heading due West, which led to a chase, and a male and two females being shot dead—at least that number, I didn’t see it all. Left behind one orphaned cub. I’m sure you’re aware of the furore around our treatment of the trolls just now—”

“That doesn’t sanction some kind of vigilante action by you, whoever you are,” Mac said thickly.

Sally just smiled. “Oh, nobody’s dead. They’re not exactly comfortable, but nobody’s dead

. Unlike those trolls. And by the way if your crew try to apprehend me I’ll step out of here faster than you can say ‘beam me up’.”

Maggie was all too aware that for all Sally’s self-confidence the slightest evidence of a threat from her would bring down the lightning from the Franklin. On the other hand Maggie needed to get a hold of this situation—and, as she thought she recognized this woman, she saw a way.

“OK,” she said now. “I’ve no intention of trying to apprehend you—umm, Sally. We’re not out here to be a police force. For all I know, these characters deserved whatever you dished out. However I would advise you at the least to put aside those weapons on your back. Let’s just calm tensions here. And then I suggest that you and I stroll over to that clump of woods, where the bodies are, and have a little parley. Get this situation resolved.”

Sally hesitated. Then she nodded, dumped her weapons, and the two walked towards the woods, leaving Mac and Nathan to sample a little more much-brewed coffee.

“Of course, I know who you are,” Maggie said quickly, seeking to put Sally off her stride.

“You do?”