The Long Earth

theoretical possibility.’
    ‘But you went plummeting into the dark anyhow? Are you crazy?’
    Lobsang cleared his throat. He was getting better at that with practice, Joshua noticed absently. ‘Yes, I anticipated it. I made a study of likely contingencies based on perturbations of Earth’s history, and took sensible precautions. Which included the automatic step-back module that appears to have worked almost perfectly. Regrettably, however, leaving us with a sea of problems.’
    ‘Are we stuck here?’
    ‘ “Stuck” in comparative safety, Sally. You are breathing perfectly good air. This world, though right next door to the Gap, is a perfectly healthy one, it seems. However, my ambulant unit is largely in operable; I cannot access its auto-repair function. I assure you, all is not lost. Back in the Low Earths, the Corporation’s airship development programme has continued. The
Mark Trine
should be completed by now and would be able to reach us within a matter of days at full step.’
    More lights had come back on now. Joshua started tidying up the debris. From here, apart from the furnishings and some of the crockery everything looked shipshape, but he worried very much about what damage had been done beyond Lobsang’s blue doors. ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘the operators of the
Trine
, even assuming it’s flightworthy, will not be aware of our predicament. Will they, Lobsang?’
    Relatively calmly, Sally said, ‘So we
are
stuck here?’
    Lobsang asked silkily, ‘Are you concerned, Sally? What about all those famous soft places? And what are you thinking, Joshua?’
    Joshua hesitated. ‘The bigger picture hasn’t changed, it seems to me. We must still investigate the migraine monster. You say that the gasbag is OK, yes? Then can you step?’
    ‘Yes. But I cannot steer, geographically I mean, and power is limited. The solar-cell surfaces appear to be intact, but much of the infrastructure —The problem, aside from rupture of gas sacs and pipelines, was the boiling-away of lubricants—’
    Joshua nodded. ‘Fine. Then
step forward
. Let’s go on.’
    ‘Across the Gap?’ Sally asked.
    ‘Well, why not? We know the trolls and the elves have been fleeing through this area. Some at least must survive. They must be able to jump the Gap in some way – you know, a two-step. Stepping takes no time at all.’ He grinned. ‘We will be back in atmosphere long before our eyes explode and dribble down our faces.’
    ‘That’s a particularly graphic imagination you have there, mister.’
    But Lobsang smiled glassily. ‘I’m glad to see you were paying attention during
2001
, Joshua.’
    ‘We’ve come this far,’ Joshua said. ‘I vote we continue, even if that means we have to do it eventually on foot.’ He took Sally’s hand. ‘Are you ready?’
    ‘Are you kidding?
Now
?’
    ‘Before we talk ourselves out of it again. Double-step us please, Lobsang.’
    Joshua was never able to make much sense of the memory of what came next. Did he really feel the stinging cold of space? Did he really hear the soughing of the wind of oblivion between the galaxies? Nothing seemed real. Not until he found himself gazing out at a clouded-over sky, and heard rain beating at the gondola windows.
    They gave themselves a day to recover, to patch up the airship as best they could.
    Then the
Mark Twain
stepped on, heading ever Westward, cautiously now, one world at a time every few seconds, maybe half their old cruising speed, and only in daylight.
    After twenty or thirty worlds they stopped seeing the crater features that littered the worlds around the Gap, perhaps traces of chance near-misses of the object that had caused the Gap itself in nearby realities. They were somewhere beyond Earth two million by now. The worlds here were bland, uniform. In these deep footprints of America this was still the Pacific coast, and they stuck mostly to the coastal strip, trying to avoid the perils of the deep forest, and indeed of the ocean itself. It seemed a dull band of worlds to Joshua, lacking colourful flowers and insects and birds, and with the vegetation dominated by huge tree-like ferns. But at the sea’s edge they sometimes glimpsed spectacular fishing creatures, agile bipedal runners with big sickle-shaped claws on their arms that they dipped into the water to scoop out big fish, one after another, throwing them high up the beach.
    Days passed. The character of the worlds began to change further. The forest retreated