The Long Utopia

Marvin and Stella Welch, the two Next, reacted to that. They turned to each other and exchanged a short burst of their strange, incomprehensible quicktalk. Joshua was reminded of the high-speed data exchanges as the two copies of Lobsang had synched.

 

Lobsang, the Traverser-world version, spoke now. ‘You must not condemn the scientists for their attempts at detachment. There appears to be nothing we can do to save this world. We must try to ensure that the beetles’ activities do not spread beyond this Earth. And we can best do that by studying these phenomena, by observing, analysing, speculating.’

 

‘You’re right to pick us up on our tone, though,’ Bowring said to Marina. ‘I apologize. I didn’t mean any disrespect.’

 

‘And in fact the best way to honour this dying world is to cherish it in its mortal agony.’

 

Sally pulled a face at Joshua. ‘Strikes me that this Lobsang’s time in the wilderness has burned all the fun out of him, and left behind all the bits I could never stand. All that cosmic destiny stuff. Pompous ass.’

 

Joshua shrugged. ‘Lobsang is Lobsang.’

 

They rose now into a layer of murky grey air, so that their view of the fire-scarred green below was obscured. Joshua heard the engines’ tone shift, adjusting.

 

Bowring said, ‘We’re rising into a layer of volcanic ash. The air’s full of it now.’

 

Jha said, ‘There’s no need to be concerned about the ship. Since Yellowstone all Navy twain engines have been fitted with ash filters. We could fly in this crap for weeks.’

 

Bowring said, ‘We calculate that the bulge at the equator is now around fifty miles, which is the thickness of the crust under the continents. So now we’re seeing quakes, volcanoes, on land as well as under the sea.’ He grinned ruefully. ‘Oddly enough the local version of Yellowstone hasn’t gone up, not yet. But the San Andreas gave way on a massive scale, and the Cascades are letting rip—’

 

Oliver asked, ‘How far is this all going to go?’

 

‘Well, we can’t tell. This isn’t some natural phenomenon we’re studying. Everything we observe is a consequence of the purposeful action of these creatures, the beetles. And the end state of this world will be determined, not simply by natural processes we can predict, but by the beetles’ intentions.’

 

Marina snapped, ‘But what do you think those intentions are? You’re supposed to be the experts. You must have some ideas. Do we just watch as they smash everything up?’

 

Ken Bowring reached over and touched her arm. ‘We have tried, to do something. At New York. We’re going there; you’ll see. But you might not find it much consolation.’ He spoke more widely. ‘Folks, we’ll take our time on this trip. We’ll be monitoring, surveying as we go, but not setting down unless absolutely necessary. We expect to be over the New York City footprint in twelve hours, no earlier – that is, about this time “tomorrow”, given the truncation of this world’s day.’

 

Jha gave them a professional smile. ‘Which makes my announcement of a cocktail reception in the Captain’s cabin at sundown seem a little flat, because that’s just four hours away. In the meantime, please make yourselves at home. The yeoman will show you to the cabins we’ve allotted you. You may stay here, or visit the science areas, but please don’t wander around without an escort. If you need anything just ask any of the crew …’

 

‘Christ,’ Sally snarled. ‘A cocktail reception. What is this, the Love Boat?’

 

Joshua said, ‘Come on, Sally. Relax for once. Even you can’t step away from mid-air. Have a bath. Drink a cocktail.’

 

She glared at him. ‘Maybe I’ll make a cocktail of your face, Valienté. Hey, you, Ensign Crusher! You have a gym on this tub? I feel like pumping some iron …’

 

 

 

 

 

46

 

 

THE SHORT DAY ended quickly.

 

When the dark came, Joshua skipped the cocktails and tried to nap. But everything felt wrong, out of step.

 

Before the dawn, still in the dark, he returned to the observation lounge. A group had gathered before the window, George and Lobsang, Agnes, and the two Next, Marvin and Stella Welch. Or perhaps they’d just stayed here.

 

Stella smiled at Joshua. ‘Restless, your friend Sally, isn’t she?’

 

‘You got that right. Always been the same. But then she grew up stepping.’

 

‘Yes. With a remarkable native ability.’

 

Joshua looked at Stella curiously. Somehow he hadn’t expected the Next to be interested in any of the individual people around them – the non-Next, the ‘dim-bulbs’, as Paul Spencer Wagoner and his buddies had always called them. Next always seemed far more interested in each other. Yet here these two were.

 

Terry Pratchett & Stephen Baxter's books