Read Online The Long Utopia by Terry Pratchett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Terry Pratchett
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convert the pagan Saxons would raise stone crosses in their sparse villages, as tokens of the churches that would one day be built there. Many of the crosses survive, even today. And thus, in the great days of the Aegis, the US administration has scattered its symbols across significant sites like this, in otherwise largely empty worlds. An echo of the future communities to come.’
‘You do see something of the stepwise worlds, then.’
‘Oh, yes – though I have never enjoyed stepping myself. I made one journey into the far Long Earth with Lobsang . . . But I do enjoy my jaunts into the Low Earths – to be precise the Low Britains. Even today, even after the great emigrations from the Yellowstone winter, those worlds remain largely wild. The lowest dozen or so worlds, to West and East, soaked up the outflow of an estimated half the pre-eruption Datum population, but even West 1 has a population only about the size of the Datum’s around the year 1800. Give us a few centuries and we’ll fill it all up, no doubt. But for now even the Low Earths are echoing halls.
‘And the Low Earths are as the Datum used to be before humans – as they were in the last interglacial, perhaps, before the final Ice Age. Because the trolls and other humanoids stay away from the Datum, even those spin-offs of humanity haven’t affected things much. So Low Earth Britain is a place of oak wildwood, grassland and heathland, a place of water and light, where elephants, rhinos and bears mingle with badgers, deer and otters . . . Full of wonders from humanity’s lost past. I don’t feel the need to go much further.’
Glancing around, Joshua could see no lights in the gathering dusk. ‘Getting dark already. I have a flashlight.’
‘I also. Let’s go on. We may need to light some brands to keep the local wildlife away later . . .’
They put in some distance after that, stepping every few minutes, pacing themselves help Nelson get over the nausea.
By West 11 Nelson seemed winded, and ready for a longer break.They sat on a low rise, overlooking another copy of the Madisonian isthmus – but here there was a substantial community, the largest they’d seen so far, a sprawl under a gentle haze of wood smoke with the steady glow of electric lights in some of the windows. Joshua even glimpsed a town sign, standing by a dirt track road:
WELCOME TO MADISON WEST 11
FOUNDED A.D. 2047
POPULATION CHANGEABLE
YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE HOMELESS TO LIVE HERE
BUT IT HELPS
The first house to be seen, just down the trail, was a shack, really, festooned with oil lanterns, and evidently put together from scraps imported from the Datum: plasterboard and roofing felt and plastic drainpipes. Behind the house was a fenced-off expanse of farmland, with what looked like a potato crop, chickens and goats, a heap of roughly cut lumber. A rack of some corrugated plastic material had been set up to face the south where the sun would catch it, with clear plastic water bottles fixed to its surface. Joshua knew this was a cheap way of purifying water; the sun’s ultraviolet would kill off most bugs.
As the two of them sat there a single vehicle came puttering along the track out of town. Driven by an elderly man who tipped a sun-bleached hat to the two of them, it was a flimsy, open vehicle that ran on a purr of electric motors. Once this had been a golf buggy, Joshua guessed, driven by batteries and manufactured from steppable parts – no steel – to be used on the huge golf courses that, before Yellowstone, had colonized the Low Earth footprints of many Datum cities. But now the buggy had a solar-cell blanket draped over its roof, and its cargo looked like milk churns, not golf clubs. In that farm further down the trail, meanwhile, Joshua saw the silhouette of a more substantial vehicle, what looked like atractor, but with a kind of fat chimney stack fixed to the rear. That was probably a biofuel solution, a gasifier, a gadget that burned wood to release
‘You do see something of the stepwise worlds, then.’
‘Oh, yes – though I have never enjoyed stepping myself. I made one journey into the far Long Earth with Lobsang . . . But I do enjoy my jaunts into the Low Earths – to be precise the Low Britains. Even today, even after the great emigrations from the Yellowstone winter, those worlds remain largely wild. The lowest dozen or so worlds, to West and East, soaked up the outflow of an estimated half the pre-eruption Datum population, but even West 1 has a population only about the size of the Datum’s around the year 1800. Give us a few centuries and we’ll fill it all up, no doubt. But for now even the Low Earths are echoing halls.
‘And the Low Earths are as the Datum used to be before humans – as they were in the last interglacial, perhaps, before the final Ice Age. Because the trolls and other humanoids stay away from the Datum, even those spin-offs of humanity haven’t affected things much. So Low Earth Britain is a place of oak wildwood, grassland and heathland, a place of water and light, where elephants, rhinos and bears mingle with badgers, deer and otters . . . Full of wonders from humanity’s lost past. I don’t feel the need to go much further.’
Glancing around, Joshua could see no lights in the gathering dusk. ‘Getting dark already. I have a flashlight.’
‘I also. Let’s go on. We may need to light some brands to keep the local wildlife away later . . .’
They put in some distance after that, stepping every few minutes, pacing themselves help Nelson get over the nausea.
By West 11 Nelson seemed winded, and ready for a longer break.They sat on a low rise, overlooking another copy of the Madisonian isthmus – but here there was a substantial community, the largest they’d seen so far, a sprawl under a gentle haze of wood smoke with the steady glow of electric lights in some of the windows. Joshua even glimpsed a town sign, standing by a dirt track road:
WELCOME TO MADISON WEST 11
FOUNDED A.D. 2047
POPULATION CHANGEABLE
YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE HOMELESS TO LIVE HERE
BUT IT HELPS
The first house to be seen, just down the trail, was a shack, really, festooned with oil lanterns, and evidently put together from scraps imported from the Datum: plasterboard and roofing felt and plastic drainpipes. Behind the house was a fenced-off expanse of farmland, with what looked like a potato crop, chickens and goats, a heap of roughly cut lumber. A rack of some corrugated plastic material had been set up to face the south where the sun would catch it, with clear plastic water bottles fixed to its surface. Joshua knew this was a cheap way of purifying water; the sun’s ultraviolet would kill off most bugs.
As the two of them sat there a single vehicle came puttering along the track out of town. Driven by an elderly man who tipped a sun-bleached hat to the two of them, it was a flimsy, open vehicle that ran on a purr of electric motors. Once this had been a golf buggy, Joshua guessed, driven by batteries and manufactured from steppable parts – no steel – to be used on the huge golf courses that, before Yellowstone, had colonized the Low Earth footprints of many Datum cities. But now the buggy had a solar-cell blanket draped over its roof, and its cargo looked like milk churns, not golf clubs. In that farm further down the trail, meanwhile, Joshua saw the silhouette of a more substantial vehicle, what looked like atractor, but with a kind of fat chimney stack fixed to the rear. That was probably a biofuel solution, a gasifier, a gadget that burned wood to release
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