asks. Everyone needs you. It will sound strange, but he wouldn't ask you if there was any other way. And I want to tell you, Everett, that I, and the whole government, we will support you. We will look after your mum and your sister, your dad's family—don't worry about any of those. Mr. Villiers is going to ask you to be a hero. Not just for the country, not even for the whole world, but for all the Known Worlds. Can you do it, Everett? Will you do it? For all of us?”
Everett M felt a touch of air on the back of his neck. He turned his head to see that the door back to the gate room was open. Madam Moon and Charles Villiers stood side by side, waiting for him. Prime Minister Portillo lightly touched Everett M on the shoulder as he let him go first through the door.
“Good man,” he whispered. “I know you can do it.”
“There is not one world,” Charles Villiers said.
“There are many worlds. Yeah, I know,” Everett M said. They stood on a balcony overlooking the great pit that Everett M had seen through the window of the room when he first woke up on the Moon. Madam Moon had opened another of her jump doors and walked through with them onto this high ledge.
Charles Villiers's face was soft, his skin soft, his voice soft, and Everett did not believe any of it. “I am Plenipotentiary from our world to the recently contacted plane E10. Have you heard about it, seen anything online?” he said.
“My dad worked in multiverse research.”
“Of course. Forgive me, Everett. Then you'll know that it is very similar to our plane, with the major exception of the Thryn Sentiency.”
“I heard that.” He looked over at Madam Moon, standing by the wall where she had opened the jump door. Always smiling, hands folded just so. Was it the same little old lady who had met Armstrong and Aldrin on the Moon forty-two years before, the frail little old lady who could stand the hard vacuum and a sleet of harder radiation? Was it even the same little old lady who had come to him when he woke in a panic as his body opened up and expanded? Were there many Madam Moons? Did the Thryn Sentiency create and annihilate its manifestations as it required?
“They're talented,” Charles Villiers continued. “They developed Heisenberg Gate technology without Thryn assistance. We might possibly have done that ourselves, but they've gone one step further. They've done what no one else in the Plenitude has done. They have a working map of the Panoply. You know what the Panoply is?”
“All the worlds, not just the ones we know about.” Everett M's dad had been working on exactly that project in this world. Working was not a strong enough word. There must be a word for work that is incredibly hard and at the same time filled with joy, work that tests the best of you and strains you to your limits but so fills your mind that everything else seems pointless by comparison. Work that drives you without pity, but that you love with all your heart. Work that you can't do, no one can do, but that you absolutely must do. That was the kind of work Tejendra had been doing all last summer. His adventures on the Middle-Aged Man bike had been part of the same rush of energy. At the end of the summer term, in the quiet after the students went, he had made a breakthrough. Not a solution, but a way to a solution. Thinking about how to think about the problem. Then, the random meeting with a Sainsbury truck turning left at a traffic signal.
Something Charles Villiers said snapped Everett M out of hismemories of that last summer, when his dad had been alive, totally alive, head full of mathematics. “You said, working map?”
Charles Villiers smiled. It was the softest of all the soft things about this elegant, well-dressed, and thoroughly groomed man, and it sent ice deep into Everett M's heart.
“There are many worlds,” Everett M said. Charles Villiers hadn't completed the phrase. “There is not one you…”
“There are many yous,”
Everett M felt a touch of air on the back of his neck. He turned his head to see that the door back to the gate room was open. Madam Moon and Charles Villiers stood side by side, waiting for him. Prime Minister Portillo lightly touched Everett M on the shoulder as he let him go first through the door.
“Good man,” he whispered. “I know you can do it.”
“There is not one world,” Charles Villiers said.
“There are many worlds. Yeah, I know,” Everett M said. They stood on a balcony overlooking the great pit that Everett M had seen through the window of the room when he first woke up on the Moon. Madam Moon had opened another of her jump doors and walked through with them onto this high ledge.
Charles Villiers's face was soft, his skin soft, his voice soft, and Everett did not believe any of it. “I am Plenipotentiary from our world to the recently contacted plane E10. Have you heard about it, seen anything online?” he said.
“My dad worked in multiverse research.”
“Of course. Forgive me, Everett. Then you'll know that it is very similar to our plane, with the major exception of the Thryn Sentiency.”
“I heard that.” He looked over at Madam Moon, standing by the wall where she had opened the jump door. Always smiling, hands folded just so. Was it the same little old lady who had met Armstrong and Aldrin on the Moon forty-two years before, the frail little old lady who could stand the hard vacuum and a sleet of harder radiation? Was it even the same little old lady who had come to him when he woke in a panic as his body opened up and expanded? Were there many Madam Moons? Did the Thryn Sentiency create and annihilate its manifestations as it required?
“They're talented,” Charles Villiers continued. “They developed Heisenberg Gate technology without Thryn assistance. We might possibly have done that ourselves, but they've gone one step further. They've done what no one else in the Plenitude has done. They have a working map of the Panoply. You know what the Panoply is?”
“All the worlds, not just the ones we know about.” Everett M's dad had been working on exactly that project in this world. Working was not a strong enough word. There must be a word for work that is incredibly hard and at the same time filled with joy, work that tests the best of you and strains you to your limits but so fills your mind that everything else seems pointless by comparison. Work that drives you without pity, but that you love with all your heart. Work that you can't do, no one can do, but that you absolutely must do. That was the kind of work Tejendra had been doing all last summer. His adventures on the Middle-Aged Man bike had been part of the same rush of energy. At the end of the summer term, in the quiet after the students went, he had made a breakthrough. Not a solution, but a way to a solution. Thinking about how to think about the problem. Then, the random meeting with a Sainsbury truck turning left at a traffic signal.
Something Charles Villiers said snapped Everett M out of hismemories of that last summer, when his dad had been alive, totally alive, head full of mathematics. “You said, working map?”
Charles Villiers smiled. It was the softest of all the soft things about this elegant, well-dressed, and thoroughly groomed man, and it sent ice deep into Everett M's heart.
“There are many worlds,” Everett M said. Charles Villiers hadn't completed the phrase. “There is not one you…”
“There are many yous,”
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