The Long Earth

thrum of the engines, and felt the slight, vertiginous tug of the stepping. For Joshua Valienté, to rock between worlds was almost soothing. He slept easily.
    When he woke, the airship had stopped again.

20
    THE SHIP HAD descended near a clump of heaped-up rock, into which Lobsang had thrown out an anchor. It was early in the day, the sky a deep blue littered with scattered cloud. But this was a typical Ice Belt world, and snowfields dazzled, though a little way away was a scrap of open water.
    Joshua refused to even look out of the window until he had used the coffee spigot.
    ‘Welcome to West 33157, Joshua. We’ve been stationary since before dawn. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.’
    ‘I take it you found something interesting.’
    ‘Look down.’
    On the outcrop to which they were anchored, black rock protruding through the snow, stood a natural monument: a lonesome pine, big, elderly and isolated. But the tree had been neatly cut down close to the root, the tangled branches and the upper trunk lying discarded on the ground, and a pale disc of core wood exposed to the air. An axe had evidently been used.
    ‘I thought you might be drawn to that sign of humanity. And, Joshua, the second reason: it’s time to try out my backup ambulatory unit.’
    Joshua glanced around the gondola. ‘Which is?’
    ‘You.’
    A trunk held the gear. On his chest he was to wear a lightweight pack which contained a facemask and an emergency oxygen supply, a first-aid kit, a flashlight, a gun of some non-ferric metal, a length of very fine rope, other items. On his back would go a canvas pack containing an enigmatic module in a hard, robust, sealed case. He would wear an old-fashioned-looking bluetooth-type earpiece to talk to Lobsang, but he suspected the gear contained other speakers and microphones.
    He went back to his stateroom, returned in his bulky Pillsbury gear, and hauled on the backpack. ‘This damn thing’s heavy.’
    ‘You’ll wear it at all times outside the ship.’
    ‘And inside the sealed module in the backpack is?’
    ‘Me,’ Lobsang said shortly. ‘Or a remote unit. Call it a backup. As long as the airship survives, the pack will stay synched with the main processors aboard. If the airship is lost the pack will host my memory until you can get home.’
    Joshua laughed. ‘You’ve wasted your money, Lobsang. In what circumstances do you imagine this will be useful? Far enough out, if the airship is lost, neither of us is going home.’
    ‘It never hurts to plan for all conceivable contingencies. You are my ultimate failsafe, Joshua. That’s why you’re here. Anyhow your kit isn’t complete yet.’
    Joshua looked into the trunk again, and pulled out another gadget. It was a framework bristling with lenses, microphones, other sensors, sitting atop a shoulder unit. ‘You have got to be kidding me.’
    ‘It’s lighter than it looks. The sensor bus should strap securely on your shoulder, and there’s a data feed that plugs into the backpack—’
    ‘You’re expecting me to explore Earth Million with this
parrot
on my shoulder?’
    Lobsang sounded offended. ‘Parrot it is, if you must … I didn’t expect vanity from you, Joshua. Who’s going to see you? Besides, it’s very practical. I’ll see what you see, hear what you hear; we’ll be in constant touch. And if you have trouble—’
    ‘What will it do, lay an egg?’
    ‘Just wear it, please, Joshua.’
    It fitted snugly on Joshua’s right shoulder, and was as lightweight as Lobsang had promised. But Joshua knew he was never going to be able to forget the thing was there, that Lobsang was literally at his shoulder with every breath. The hell with it. He hadn’t expected this trip to be a joyride anyhow, and the parrot hardly made it any worse. Besides, the thing would probably break down soon enough.
    Without further conversation Joshua went down to an access deck, pulled the door open against the cabin’s slight overpressure – the air pressure was kept high to ensure no external atmosphere could enter the ship until Lobsang had tested it for safety – and stepped into a small elevator cage. A winch lowered him smoothly to the ground, beside the rocky outcrop.
    Once on the ground, knee deep in snow, he took a deep breath of the air of this cold Earth, and turned slowly around. The sky had clouded over now, and there was a translucent quality to the air: snow threatening. ‘I take it you’re seeing this. Standard-issue