Planesrunner (Everness Book One) by Ian McDonald

numbers stencilled on them. Ahead was a patch of white light. It seemed to take the Mercedes a long time to reach it. Distances and speeds, time and space were distorted in this tunnel. Ms. Villiers sat up, straightened her posture and her gloves, checked her face again in the small compact mirror. Two strokes with the lip gloss and she was all killer once more.
    Everett could see Paul McCabe waiting in the white light. He looked rumpled and unironed, as if he'd been wearing these clothes when Everett's call woke him. Beside him was a short man with olive skin and an elaborately styled beard and moustache, as elegant and groomed as McCabe was unkempt, wearing a round-collared suit of ivory and grey brocade. Beside him was Colette Harte.
    The car stopped. A woman in black military fatigues and a SWAT team cap stepped out of the darkness to open the door. Everett blinked, dazzled by the light pouring from the four batteries of floodlights on tripods. But he did notice the assault rifle slung across her back.
    “Everett! Excellent, excellent!” Paul McCabe pumped Everett's hand. “Your trip was good, yes? We sent the good car for you, you know. VIP treatment and all that, yes yes. I'm only here five minutes myself. Bit of an early call, you know?”
    Charlotte Villiers stepped out of the car. Everett thought he saw Paul McCabe bow to her—the smallest, briefest dip of the head, but a mark of subservience.
    The man in the elegant suit touched his right hand to his heart.
    “Mr. Singh, an honour. I am Ibrim Hoj Kerrim, plenipotentiary of E2.”
    It took all Everett's control not to say, I know, I recognise your not quite-Spanish, not quite-Moroccan accent, I've heard your voice on the radio. I've flown over the rooftops of your London .
    “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kerrim.”
    The plenipotentiary smiled. It was the kind of smile that transforms faces. He had bright eyes and very good teeth. I would like to be able to trust you, Everett thought. I need people to trust.
    “I understand you possess a jewel of great price,” Ibrim Kerrim said.
    “The map of the Panoply,” Everett said. A murmur rang around the ring of people. “Yes. I worked it out.”
    “A remarkable feat,” Ibrim Kerrim said. “You are a precocious talent.” Everett noticed a little jewelled hook behind the E2 plenipotentiary's left ear, like an enamelled hearing aid. He'd said something in one of the clips about language implants. Was this little ear-gem feeding him English?
    “Well, my dad—,” Everett started
    “An extraordinary man, extraordinary,” Paul McCabe said quickly. “Should have had a Fields Medal. Maths must be in the DNA.” For a moment Everett thought he might ruffle his hair. Everett would have had to hit him, armed soldiers or no armed soldiers.
    “I'd like to see evidence of this device,” Charlotte Villiers said. You know it's in my bag, Everett thought. This was the dangerous time. Show her the Infundibulum and she might take it off him. He was surrounded by people with guns. He'd glimpsed what Charlotte Villiers kept in her smart little purse.
    “It's better if I show you it working,” Everett said. “You do have the Heisenberg Gate here?”
    Paul McCabe and Charlotte Villiers exchanged glances. Ibrim Kerrim said quickly, “I would like to see that. Professor McCabe?”
    “As you wish, Plenipotentiary.”
    A Person-in-Black opened a hatch in the tunnel wall. Beyond it was a smaller, less finished tunnel hacked into raw chalk. Lighting cables swagged along the roof, neon to neon. Heavier-duty power ducting ran along the foot of the wall. The air smelled of damp and dust and electricity. Two Persons-in-Black took the lead, then Everett with Paul McCabe, immediately behind them Colette Harte. Next came the two plenipotentiaries, last of all two more Persons-in-Black. The floor of the tunnel was gritty under Everett's feet. It sloped down to a distant hatch. Everett froze at a growing rumble that shook drops of