The Long Earth

thing has the power to get us back over land?’ asked Sally, obviously nervous.
    ‘Sally, the
Mark Twain
was designed by Lobsang. The marine unit has enough power to circumnavigate the Earth. He backs up his backups. You know that. Is there something wrong?’
    ‘Since you ask, I’m not any great fan of water. Especially water you can’t see to the bottom of. As a rule, let’s keep some trees under the keel, OK?’
    ‘You were hanging out on the coast when I first met you.’
    ‘That was the seashore. Shallow water! And this is the Long Earth. You never know what’s going to surface underneath you.’
    ‘I imagine you didn’t stay long on the one water world Lobsang and I passed through. There was a beast in that ocean that—’
    ‘When I got to that world I stepped from a hillside, fell six feet into seawater, swam to a place I knew I could get back from, and stepped out, all just before a set of jaws closed around me. I never saw what they were attached to. The way I see it, my ancestors put a lot of effort into getting out of the goddamn ocean and I don’t think I should throw all of that hard work back in their faces.’
    He grinned as he worked on the food.
    ‘Look, Joshua – I’m all for heading back to Happy Landings. What do you say? Suddenly I feel in the mood for other people … Oh. But we have to take the
Mark Twain
, don’t we? With all that’s left of Lobsang. Not to mention the cat. We can find a way to move the
Mark Twain
laterally, if we have to drag it by hand. But how’s it going to step without Lobsang?’
    ‘I’ve got an idea about that,’ Joshua said. ‘It will keep. More coffee?’
    They treated the rest of that day as though it was a Sunday, that is to say what you should expect of a Sunday. You need time for big and complicated new concepts to shake themselves down in your brain slowly, without damaging what is already there. In the end that had even applied to Lobsang, Joshua realized.
    Then, the next afternoon, Joshua let Sally guide them to what she sensed as a soft place, a short cut that would take them back to Happy Landings, only a little way in from the shore. They descended to the ground. The
Mark Twain
hovered over the beach where the marine unit had delivered it. The ship was connected to Joshua and Sally by long ropes held in their hands.
    And there was a shimmer on the water’s edge that even Joshua could see: the soft place Sally had found.
    ‘I feel like a kid with a party balloon,’ said Sally, holding her rope.
    ‘I’m certain this will work,’ said Joshua.
    ‘What will?’
    ‘Look – when you step you can take over whatever you can carry. Yes? In a way, when he was aboard, Lobsang
was
the airship, so he could step over. Here we are holding the
Mark Twain
, which, though it has a lot of mass, technically doesn’t weigh anything at all. Right? So, if we step right now, we’ll be carrying it, won’t we?’
    She stared at him. ‘And
this
is your theory?’
    ‘It’s the best I can do.’
    ‘If the universe doesn’t get your joke, we might get our arms pulled off.’
    ‘Only one way to find out. Are you ready?’
    Sally hesitated. ‘Would you mind if we step hand in hand? We could get in a mess if we got separated during this stunt.’
    ‘True enough.’ He took her hand. ‘OK, Sally. Do your stuff.’
    She seemed to defocus, as if she was no longer aware of him. She sniffed the air and eyed the light, and made moves oddly like tai chi, graceful, testing, questing – or maybe as if she were dowsing for water.
    And they stepped. The stepping itself was sharper than usual, and there was a brief sensation of plummeting as if down a water slide, and it left Joshua
colder
, as if the process somehow absorbed energy. They emerged on another beach, another world – wintry, bleak. The soft places didn’t get you all the way at once, then. And
they weren’t in the same place
, geographically; Joshua could see that immediately. Stranger and stranger. Again Sally turned this way and that, questing.
    It took four steps in all. But at last there was Happy Landings, with the
Mark Twain
overhead.
    People were pleased to see them back, if surprised. Everyone was friendly. Genuinely friendly. Because this was Happy Landings, wasn’t it? Of course they were friendly. The tracks were still clean, spotlessly swept. The drying salmon still hung from rows of neat racks. Men, women, children and trolls mixed happily.
    And Joshua felt oddly uncomfortable,