horizon, the size of Everett's upheld hand. A handful of sand trickled out of the gate onto the ramp. The desolation was not absolute. In the distance, something disturbed the crest of a dune silhouetted against the monster moon. A ripple in the sand zigzagged across the dune faces at incredible speed. The soldiers stepped forward, assault rifles at the ready. The sand swelled; the thing beneath was coming to the surface. A dark object broke the sand. The gate closed.
“Where was that?” Ibrim Kerrim.
“I can't tell you,” Everett said. “But it's the same point in that world as the one I dialled up in your own world. There's no London there. I can do this for any Earth in the multiverse.” One final twist of the Infundibulum. He pulled out the code. “E3. Your world, Ms. Villiers.” The light dimmed, the air hummed, and the Heisenberg Gate opened inside a long, high-vaulted hall with a steel-ribbed panoramic window at one end. Beyond the window were clouds; the people in the hall were tiny dark insects against the vast skyscape. An enormous dark object was moving across the skyscape, huge as an approaching planet.
“And you are a very clever young man, Mr. Singh,” Charlotte Villiers said. The ice in her voice made everyone turn. The gun Everett had glimpsed in her bag was in her hand now. In her hand, pointing at him. “We've seen quite enough party tricks. I'll take the Infundibulum now.”
“What is the meaning of this, Plenipotentiary?” Ibrim Kerrim thundered. In the moment's hesitation, Colette moved. She lunged from her seat and slapped the gun away from its aim on Everett.
“Go Everett, go now!”
Everett Singh thrust the Infundibulum under his arm, nodded all the good-bye he would ever give to Colette, and dived through the circle at the centre of the black slab.
The Heisenberg Gate closed.
I t didn't hurt a bit. That surprised Everett. He'd imagined that there would be some physical sensation to leaving one universe and arriving in another. Some wave of agonising transformation moving down his body, a wrench of every part of his being, the sensation of being broken apart down to the atoms, down to the super-strings, spread out to every part of every multiverse and then brought back together again. Even a mild dizziness and a pressing need to hurl. Nothing. Like walking from one room into another. Didn't hurt a bit. What hurt and hurt a lot was hitting the deck on the other side.
Everett hit E3 and hit it hard. People scattered as the kid from nowhere—where did he come from, did anyone see him?—went skidding across the tiled floor. He got groggily to his feet. There was something stabbing in the left side of his chest. Something felt loose in there. A rib. Not a rib. The Heisenberg Gate had closed while he was getting to his feet. He had only a few moments before E10 reopened it and sent someone through to find him. Get away, hide yourself. Which way? Where to go? Everett turned around and walked through the point in space where the gate had opened. Reverse psychology: if you go through in a certain direction, they'll naturally assume you'll keep going in that direction. Double-back on yourself.
His ankle hurt. But at least the people weren't staring. As much. He was, he had to admit, conspicuously dressed. Men in big-shouldered suits with wide laps and turned-up trousers. Shirts, no ties: instead, enamelled brooches of different geometric shapes at the collar. Some wore greatcoats, tailored at the waist. Women too favoured long coats, trimmed with fur, wasp-waisted jackets, tight pencil-skirts that went to mid-calf. Girls' fashion was long, hooded cardigans over leggings. Boys ran to military-style jackets and knee-length shorts over long socks. Hats. This was a hat universe. Sharp trilbies with decorative bands for the men; the women dainty little pillboxes and fascinators perched at perilous angles, swathed in lace and net. Girls wore hoods, boys bandanas, which Everett thought made
“Where was that?” Ibrim Kerrim.
“I can't tell you,” Everett said. “But it's the same point in that world as the one I dialled up in your own world. There's no London there. I can do this for any Earth in the multiverse.” One final twist of the Infundibulum. He pulled out the code. “E3. Your world, Ms. Villiers.” The light dimmed, the air hummed, and the Heisenberg Gate opened inside a long, high-vaulted hall with a steel-ribbed panoramic window at one end. Beyond the window were clouds; the people in the hall were tiny dark insects against the vast skyscape. An enormous dark object was moving across the skyscape, huge as an approaching planet.
“And you are a very clever young man, Mr. Singh,” Charlotte Villiers said. The ice in her voice made everyone turn. The gun Everett had glimpsed in her bag was in her hand now. In her hand, pointing at him. “We've seen quite enough party tricks. I'll take the Infundibulum now.”
“What is the meaning of this, Plenipotentiary?” Ibrim Kerrim thundered. In the moment's hesitation, Colette moved. She lunged from her seat and slapped the gun away from its aim on Everett.
“Go Everett, go now!”
Everett Singh thrust the Infundibulum under his arm, nodded all the good-bye he would ever give to Colette, and dived through the circle at the centre of the black slab.
The Heisenberg Gate closed.
I t didn't hurt a bit. That surprised Everett. He'd imagined that there would be some physical sensation to leaving one universe and arriving in another. Some wave of agonising transformation moving down his body, a wrench of every part of his being, the sensation of being broken apart down to the atoms, down to the super-strings, spread out to every part of every multiverse and then brought back together again. Even a mild dizziness and a pressing need to hurl. Nothing. Like walking from one room into another. Didn't hurt a bit. What hurt and hurt a lot was hitting the deck on the other side.
Everett hit E3 and hit it hard. People scattered as the kid from nowhere—where did he come from, did anyone see him?—went skidding across the tiled floor. He got groggily to his feet. There was something stabbing in the left side of his chest. Something felt loose in there. A rib. Not a rib. The Heisenberg Gate had closed while he was getting to his feet. He had only a few moments before E10 reopened it and sent someone through to find him. Get away, hide yourself. Which way? Where to go? Everett turned around and walked through the point in space where the gate had opened. Reverse psychology: if you go through in a certain direction, they'll naturally assume you'll keep going in that direction. Double-back on yourself.
His ankle hurt. But at least the people weren't staring. As much. He was, he had to admit, conspicuously dressed. Men in big-shouldered suits with wide laps and turned-up trousers. Shirts, no ties: instead, enamelled brooches of different geometric shapes at the collar. Some wore greatcoats, tailored at the waist. Women too favoured long coats, trimmed with fur, wasp-waisted jackets, tight pencil-skirts that went to mid-calf. Girls' fashion was long, hooded cardigans over leggings. Boys ran to military-style jackets and knee-length shorts over long socks. Hats. This was a hat universe. Sharp trilbies with decorative bands for the men; the women dainty little pillboxes and fascinators perched at perilous angles, swathed in lace and net. Girls wore hoods, boys bandanas, which Everett thought made
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