The Long War

instruments. Drier than my gob in Lent.’
    ‘Take us down well away from that pile. It’s hot.’
    ‘Actually I thought I might make for the person on the ground down there waving to us.’
    When Joshua looked away from the monument, it was obvious. Silvery emergency blankets had been spread over a rock bluff, positioned to be visible from the sky but not from the ground. And somebody was standing there in olive-green coveralls, waving both arms.
    ‘Good plan,’ Joshua said.
    The Shillelagh descended smoothly. They both disembarked this time, with their boots on and packs on their backs – Bill was laden with a Stepper box, and Lobsang’s troll translation kit – ready to explore.
    Joshua wasn’t particularly surprised at the identity of the person who had summoned them from the sky. ‘Lieutenant Jansson.’
    ‘Joshua.’ Jansson was thin, pale, sweating, evidently a lot more unwell than when he’d last seen her. As they walked up she sat down on an outcrop of rock, clearly exhausted from all the waving.
    ‘We came to the right world, then. We guessed correctly.’
    ‘About Ms. Linsay taking the ring? What it signified, where you were to come? Oh, yes. She complained about it being hard for her to find – the ring. “Trust that idiot to take it with him on his holidays,” was her phrase, I’m afraid. Then she hoped you wouldn’t notice its absence. And even if you did, you wouldn’t follow her here. She hoped that, she said, but she did plan for you showing up . . . You took your time to work it out, Joshua.’
    Joshua shook his head. ‘You’re still a cop, retired or not. Only a cop would call Sally “Ms. Linsay”. We need to be here, Monica. We have our own mission, from Lobsang. About the trolls.’
    Jansson smiled. ‘I think Sally anticipated that too. “That meddler Lobsang’s bound to get involved in this”—’
    ‘I know, I know.’
    ‘I said she planned for you to come, Joshua. Whether she wanted it or not. That’s why I’m here. She brought me over to wait for you. Call me a stalking horse. She did a complicated deal with the beagles over that.’
    Joshua stared. ‘ Beagles? ’
    ‘I know. Long story. Truth be told I think they were glad to have me stashed out of their sight, I smell bad to them . . . You know, it’s been a month since we’ve been here, most of it playing for time, hoping something would turn up. Sally’s patient. The instincts of a hunter, I suppose. It’s been harder for me.
    He inspected her. ‘I’m guessing you’re self-medicating.’
    ‘Yes, and I’m doing fine, so don’t fuss. Now, just listen, Joshua . . .’
    Jansson quickly told them that Sally was twenty-six worlds further over, and what the situation was: about the kobold, about the sapient canines.
    ‘Finn McCool,’ Bill growled. ‘Playing both ends against the middle, I’ll be bound. The little gobshite.’
    For now, Joshua took in very little of this. ‘Kind of complicated.’
    ‘So it is,’ said Jansson.
    ‘That’s what happens when Sally Linsay gets into your life . . . But, as I said, we have our own mission here. OK. Well, we’re going to leave the airship here and walk over.’
    ‘Fine. There’s a certain time of day when they wait for me, stepwise, to meet me when I’m ready to come back . . . Listen, do you have any coffee while we wait? I ran out days ago.’
    The final step into Earth West 1,617,524 was a jolt. Though he was warned by Jansson, Joshua had expected another arid Joker, like Rectangles. But it wasn’t arid, not just here anyhow. Joshua had an immediate impression of green, of moisture, of freshness; he couldn’t help taking a deep breath.
    Then he observed that the green wasn’t the usual riff on forest or prairie, but, evidently, fields , being grazed by creatures that might have been cattle but weren’t, and tended by upright figures that might have been human farmhands, but weren’t.
    And then he took in the most important aspect of the landscape. The creatures standing before him, that might have been dogs, but weren’t.
    There were perhaps a dozen of the upright dogs, standing in neat ranks. The central two seemed the most significant, judging by the quality of the belts they wore at their waists – belts, on dogs. From which tools of some kind hung. And weapons. A thing like a crossbow.
    And a ray gun! A gaudy toy, like a prop from some old TV show. Just as Jansson had described.
    Their gender was very obvious; of the central