The Long War

this?’
    Sally shrugged. ‘I’m on the trolls’ side. How better to protect them than to have them work with the soldiers? Also, maybe it will help them learn to trust us again . . .’
    They reached the clump of forest. Maggie followed Sally into the shade, where they found two dead trolls – the third Sally mentioned had presumably left a corpse off on some stepwise world – and a live juvenile still trying to cuddle up to one of the bodies.
    ‘You say you have these scientist characters stashed somewhere near by.’
    ‘You’ll find them. You better had, in fact, before the other trolls get here.’
    ‘What other trolls?’
    Sally gave her a knowing look. ‘At twilight, young though it is, this orphaned cub will attempt to join in with the long call. That will summon other trolls. And when they turn up – look, trolls are comparatively merciful. More than most human parents would be. But they are protective of their cubs.’
    ‘Point taken.’
    They began to walk back to the fire.
    ‘Listen,’ Sally said now, apparently on impulse. ‘There’s something else. Since I believe you have the right stuff, Captain Maggie, take a look at this.’ She rummaged under a small heap of gear, and pulled out a piece of shining tech.
    It was a tube encrusted with keypads, vaguely resembling some kind of musical instrument, but technologically advanced. It was like an ocarina redesigned by Einstein, Maggie thought.
    ‘This is a troll-call.’
    ‘A what?’
    ‘Call it a two-way translation device for talking with trolls. I’m pretty good at it by now, I can call for help, or to signal danger. I mean, our language is nothing like theirs – this is just a prototype – and you can’t get across much more than basic concepts. But for now it’s the best we can do. With a few trolls on your ship, and one of these . . .’
    ‘How do I get hold of one?’
    ‘Oh, it’s not for sale,’ said Sally. ‘But I could get one for you from the manufacturer.’
    ‘Who is the manufacturer?’ asked Maggie.
    Sally just smiled.
    Maggie took a leap into the dark. ‘OK – get me one. That way I keep my options open. And I will consider what you’ve said.’
    ‘Good.’
    ‘How will I find you? . . . Oh. You’ll find me, right?’
    ‘You’re getting the hang of this.’
    Any dirigible crew, when on the ground, were routinely wired up and monitored; Maggie’s officers had of course overheard every word.
    Nathan Boss thought they should have apprehended Sally Linsay, or at least tried to.
    And Joe Mackenzie thought she was crazy even to be thinking about taking trolls on board.
    ‘I don’t know, Mac. We do need new ways of working out here. I’ve learned that much in the past month. I mean, she’s right, once you are more than ten steps from the Datum, it’s like interstellar space. You can’t control the Long Earth like it was some occupied city in a war zone. Or even Datum New York. Freedom’s a mess, isn’t it? Listen, Mac – do some research for me. Find me some troll experts . . .’

22
    T HE G OLD D UST and its accompanying fleet crept through the Low Earths, the last couple of dozen stepwise worlds before the Datum. The skies were pretty crowded over these relatively heavily developed worlds, and as the ships were stepped through collisions were a real threat. In the last few worlds they actually had to follow a scout on the ground, who would step forward, check out the route, and then come back when the way was clear.
    But even the clutter of West 3 or 2 or 1 was as nothing compared with what they found when they finally crossed over to the Datum. They looked down on the landscapes of West 1, and then with that last step it was as if somebody had exploded a daisycutter bomb, scything away the greenery for miles around and replacing it with concrete, tarmac and steel, staining the shining river a turbid grey and penning it in with reinforced banks and bridges, all under a grubby, colourless sky. Joshua thought you couldn’t have had a better demonstration of what humanity could do to a world, given a few centuries and a lot of oil to burn.
    The Gold Dust herself seemed diminished as she settled gingerly towards her docking apron. And the very first detail Joshua saw as he disembarked, on the wall of an old brick warehouse, was a giant portrait of President Cowley, standing there glaring with his arm held out and palm upraised, as if to say: Keep Out!
    Sally, following Joshua, glared around