The Long Earth

‘Listen. Consciousness shapes reality. That’s the central message of quantum physics. We participated in the creation of the Datum, our solitary strand, our Joker world. We’ve met other minds now, the elves and the trolls, and First Person Singular. Somehow, it seems, they participated in the weaving of the Long Earth, a subtle and marvellous ensemble, a multiverse created by a community of minds, which we only now are beginning to join. This is the lesson you must take back to the Datum, Joshua. Never mind variations of geology and geography and collections of exotic animals. This is fundamental to our understanding of reality — fundamental to what we are. And if I can communicate with First Person Singular, who surely has an apprehension of the universe beyond anything we are capable of… Well, this is what I intend to discuss with our fat friend. That, and to make her aware of the threat she poses, all unconsciously.’

‘Wait a minute,’ Joshua said, thinking it through. ‘You’re going down there. You’re actually going into that thing.’

‘Since the creatures embedded in the structure appear to be entirely healthy and mobile, I don’t see this as a risk. Bearing in mind that I, and I alone, of the three of us, am dispensable, at least in the form of my ambulant unit. But I will be fully downloaded. I, Lobsang, will be fully committed to the joining.’

‘You don’t intend to come back, do you?’

‘No, Joshua. I suspect my joining with the being must be long term, if not one-way, irrevocable. Yet still I must do this.’

Joshua bristled. ‘I know you had all kinds of hidden motives for signing me up for this trip. Fine. But I signed up to achieve one objective: to bring you home safely. I was your ultimate fall- back, you said.’

‘I respect your integrity, Joshua. I release you from your contract. I will lodge an addendum in the ship’s files.’

‘That’s not good enough—’

‘It is done.’

‘Oh, don’t let’s have some kind of macho honour fest,’ Sally said cynically. ‘You have backups all over the place, Lobsang. So you’re not really at risk at all, are you?’

‘I don’t propose to tell you all my little secrets. But should I be incapacitated or lost you will find iterations of my memory in various stores, updated every millisecond. The ultimate “black box”, you might say, is in the belly of the ship, armoured in an alloy that I confidently believe makes adamantium look like putty and will, I am sure, remain totally unscathed even in the event of a meteor strike of mass-extinction proportions.’

Sally laughed. ‘What would be the point of surviving a collision that scythes all life from a planet? I mean, who would there be to plug you in?’

‘There is every likelihood that in the fullness of time sapient life might once again populate the planet, and evolve to the point where it could restore me. I can wait. I’ve plenty to read.’

It seemed to Joshua that Sally was at her loveliest, if you could use such a term about Sally, when she was blowing her top. And for the very first time, Joshua suspected Lobsang was teasing Sally deliberately. Another Turing test passed, he supposed.

‘So,’ he said, ‘supposing you’re successful, and you get her to stop eating worlds. What then, Lobsang?’

‘Then, together, we will continue the search for the truth behind the universe.’

‘That sounds so inhuman,’ said Sally.

‘On the contrary, Sally, it is extremely human.’

First Person Singular was looming now. Scoop-shaped objects like fleshy antennas sprouted along her length, and small crabs were hitching a ride — as were a number of seabirds, possibly after the crabs.

‘Well,’ said Lobsang. ‘The rest is up to you. Obviously I need you to get the airship back to Datum. Get in touch with Selena Jones at transEarth. She’ll know what to do about the data stores on board, to synch the copy of myself back on the Datum — you see, Joshua, you will be taking me home, after a fashion. Give Selena my regards. I always fancied she saw me as something of a father figure, you know. Even though she is legally my guardian. Well, I am not yet twenty-one years old.’

Sally said, ‘Wait — without you the Mark Twain has no sentience. How can it take us anywhere?’

‘Details, Sally! I’ll leave that as an exercise for you. And now, if you will excuse me, I have a mysterious floating collective organism to catch. Oh, one last thing — do please take care of Shi-mi…’

And with that he retreated through his blue door, for the last time.

49

WITH LOBSANG DISPATCHED to his strange close encounter, the remaining crew of the Mark Twain watched the wake of the traveller until she disappeared from view, long before reaching the horizon. The honour guard of animals, birds and fish flew, dived and undulated away.

The show was over. The carnival had left town. The spell had been broken. And Joshua could feel something had gone from the world.

He stared at Sally, and felt the bewilderment he saw in her face. He said, ‘First Person Singular scared me. And there were times when Lobsang scared me, though for different reasons. The thought of the two of them together, and what they might become…’

She shrugged. ‘We’ve done our best to save the trolls.’

‘And humanity,’ he pointed out gently.

‘So what do we do now?’

‘Have lunch, I’d suggest,’ Joshua said, and he headed for the galley.

A few minutes later Sally was grasping a brimming mug of coffee as if it were a lifeline. ‘And did you notice? The traveller steps underwater. That’s a new one.’

Joshua nodded. He thought, that’s right, start by asking the little questions — sort out the small problems first, rather than get overwhelmed by the cosmic mysteries. Or even by the problem of how they were going to get home, although he was starting to have an idea about that. ‘You know, some of those creatures inside her hull, which must have come from very remote worlds, looked familiar. I mean, one of those floating things looked like a large kangaroo! The cameras have been running. We can check through the footage together. The naturalists will have a field day…’

There was a soft sound in the doorway. Joshua looked down to see Shi-mi. She was indeed a most elegant cat, robotic or not.

And she spoke.

‘Number of mice and mice-like rodents put into the vivarium for redeployment when we reach the ground: ninety-three. Numbers harmed: zero. It is said that with a stout heart a mouse can lift an elephant but not, I am glad to say, on this ship.’ The cat looked expectantly at both of them. Her voice was soft, feminine — human, but somehow suggestive of cat.

‘Oh, good grief.’

Joshua murmured, ‘Be nice, Sally. Shi-mi — thank you.’

The cat waited patiently for further response.

‘I didn’t know you could speak,’ Joshua ventured.

‘There was previously no need. My reports were made to Lobsang through a direct interface. And the rubbish we speak is like froth on the water; actions are drops of gold.’

Sally turned her glance slightly sideways, a warning sign in Joshua’s experience. ‘Where did that proverb come from?’

‘Tibet,’ said Shi-mi.

‘You’re not some avatar of Lobsang, are you? I did hope we’d got rid of him.’

The cat looked up from licking her paw. ‘No. Although I too am a gel-based personality. Adapted for light conversation, proverbs, rodent securement and incidental chit-chat with a thirty-one per cent bias towards