The Long Earth
once more. A slight feeling you get when everything is so
right
that it might have gone all the way around the universe and come back metamorphosed into
wrong
. He’d forgotten, in fact, how persistent this feeling was from his last visit. And that was without mentioning the ubiquitous stink of troll.
As a matter of course, the pair of them were offered lodgings in one of the cottages at the heart of the township. But after a shared glance they decided to bunk down on the
Mark Twain
. Inevitably a few troll pups followed them up the cables. Joshua made supper up there, with delicious fresh food; as before people had been amazingly generous with gifts of food and drink.
Afterwards, poisoning herself with instant coffee once again – all that was available now on the injured
Mark Twain
– and with trolls lounging around the observation deck, Sally said, ‘Come on, out with it, Joshua. I watch people too. I see the look on your face. What’s on your mind?’
‘The same as on yours, I suspect. That there’s something wrong here.’
‘No,’ Sally said. ‘Not wrong. There’s something
off
, for sure … I’ve been here many times, but I’m more aware of it with you sulking around the place. Of course what we perceive as
wrong
might be an expression of the significance of the place. But—’
‘Go on. There’s something you want to tell me, right?’
‘Have you seen any blind people here, Joshua?’
‘Blind?’
‘There are people here with spectacles, old folk with reading glasses. But nobody
blind
. Once I looked at the rolls in City Hall. You see records of people missing a toe or a finger, and you find out that it was the result of a bit of carelessness with a wood-chopping axe. But nobody with any major disability seems to be led to Happy Landings in the first place.’
He thought that over. ‘They aren’t perfect here. I’ve seen them get drunk in the bars, for example.’
‘Oh yes, they know how to party, certainly. But the interesting thing is that every single one of them knows when to stop partying, and, believe you me, that talent is somewhat rare. And there’s nothing like a police force here, have you noticed? According to the City Hall records, there has never been a sexually motivated attack on a woman, man or child.
Never
. Never a dispute over land that hasn’t been calmly resolved by negotiation. Have you watched the kids? All the adults act as if all the kids are their own, and all the kids act as if all the adults are their parents. The whole place is so decent, level-headed and
likeable
it can make you scream, and then curse yourself for screaming.’ Sally stroked a troll pup, whose purring would have put any cat to shame: pure liquid contentment.
That prompted Joshua to blurt out, ‘It’s the trolls. It’s got to be. We’ve discussed this before. Humans and trolls living side by side. Here , and nowhere else we know of. So it’s like no other human community, anywhere.’
She eyed him. ‘Well, now we know that minds shape minds, don’t we? We’ve learned that much. Too many humans, and trolls will flee. But if there are just the right amount of people the trolls will stick around. And for humans, maybe you can’t get enough trolls. Happy Landings is a warm bath of comfortable, happy feelings.’
‘But nobody disabled. Nobody mixed-up enough to commit a violent crime. Nobody who doesn’t fit.’
‘Maybe they’re kept out, perhaps not even consciously.’ She regarded him. ‘
Sieved
. That’s a rather sinister thought, isn’t it?’
Joshua thought it was. ‘But how? Nobody’s standing around with clubs to exclude the unworthy.’
‘No.’ Sally leaned back and closed her eyes, thinking. ‘I don’t think it’s a case of people being consciously excluded, not by the locals. So how does it happen? I’ve never seen any signs of anybody
behind
Happy Landings. No designer, no controller. Does Happy Landings
itself
somehow choose who comes here? But how can that happen?’
‘And to what end?’
‘You can only have an
end
if you have a
mind
, Joshua.’
‘There’s no mind involved in evolution,’ Joshua said, remembering Sister Georgina’s brisk homework classes at the Home. ‘No end, no intention, no destination. And yet that’s a process that shapes living creatures.’
‘So is Happy Landings some analogy of an evolutionary process?’
He studied her. ‘You tell me. You’ve been coming here a long time—’
‘Since I was a kid,
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