She was holding out her hand to shake: a custom from certain Earth regions, marking her out as an offworlder.

‘I’m honoured,’ said Carl. ‘Let me introduce you to the others. This is Dr Latitia Lakos. How’re you doing, Latitia?’

‘Wonderful, Carl. Ms Braun, how delightful.’

‘Call me Neliptha.’

The Earthwoman had caught on quickly, noting the use of first names. That boded well for the negotiations, as her employers, Norwest Seattleton First Banking, were best placed to provide Earthside financing for the proposed business, importing from Fulgor.

A bulky shaven-headed man approached, offering his hand to Neliptha.

‘And I’m Xavier Spalding. Please call me Xavier.’

‘From Mercantile Metatrade? I’m surprised you came in person, sir, instead of delegating. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘I’m always interested to meet someone from NWSB.’

Carl introduced the other five - the trio from Lucis Traders Agg., led by Vermundrs Overne, plus Jiang-Shan Cho and Treena Cassell, independent venture capitalists and entrepeneurs in their own right. Then they all walked as a group to a flowshaft that carried them up some hundred metres to the floor that Carl had booked. Prismatic quickglass shifted, brightening and changing colour, as they walked through to the great room that overlooked, on every side, the shining towers and viaducts of Lucis City.

He began by outlining the objectives of the meeting as he understood them, and received minor clarification from Treena and Vermundrs while the others nodded. Then it was time for him to disengage, encouraging the others to speak in turn. For now, he needed only ensure that everyone received sufficient time to speak, which in the early stages was easy enough among professionals, though later it might prove challenging.

Soon there was an inevitable descent into detail. Carl followed, only because he would later have to be able to bring everybody up to an overview level where they could agree common goals, because while focusing on the trees, agreement is almost impossible; while everyone can agree on what is important to the forest. Managing this transition between high and low level was an important part of his job today.

Luculenti would have thrashed out an agreement in seconds, but Fulgidi businessfolk with every enhancement short of upraise moved far more slowly. As Carl had told Roger, they used their upgraded cognitive skills to find creative ways to disagree or challenge each other as much as to formulate agreements. But those agreements, once made, were rigorous and watertight, the transition from meeting-minutes to legal contract scarcely more than a formality.

The morning passed with few surprises. By the session’s end, the import-export financing and corporate structures were agreed, Carl had wrapped up the meeting, and lunch was a celebration of completion instead of the working break it might have been.

‘Good work,’ Treena told him. ‘I didn’t think we were all going to walk away happy, but you turned it around.’

Xavier watched them but did not approach.

I didn’t figure you for shy.

In fact, Carl had been impressed by the low-key strength of the man. If anyone had achieved their goals today, it had been Xavier Spalding.

‘I’ve got the afternoon free,’ Treena went on. ‘We could spend it in Tranquillity Park, if you like.’

‘Love to, but I’ve so much work on at the moment.’

‘And a wife at home. Never mind. Give my love to Miranda.’

‘I thought for a moment you wanted to give it to me.’

‘Naughty, naughty, darling. But you are so right.’

She drifted away. Carl was about to head over to Xavier, but his tu-ring chimed, indicating a private call. He double-blinked his smartlenses, and Miranda’s face appeared in his vision.

‘Hello, sweetheart. Are you carrying on this afternoon?’

‘No,’ he subvocalized. ‘We wrapped the whole thing up already.’

‘So you’re coming straight home?’

‘Maybe not. I know Treena Cassell wants to talk to me about something.’

‘She’d better stick to talking only, Carl Blackstone.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘See you later.’

‘Later.’

The image cleared.

I didn’t lie to her.

But neither had he told her about already rejecting Treena.

There are risks worth taking, and risks that aren’t.

The thing was, what he was about to do in secret was one thing, but the habit of lying to everyone about everything was a dangerous temptation in his profession. You had to erect layer upon layer of false personae to move through the everyday world; but Miranda deserved better than that.

Perhaps if she had known him earlier, at the time of his most public shame - when he was only three years older than Roger was now - she would understand the temptation he was giving into.

The year was 2580 Earth-equivalent, and he was one among a hundred and seventy-three Pilot Candidates filling the silver waiting-hall. Most were newly graduated from Academy training, but that was literally academic: the real test was almost upon them. That was why the whole group was shit-scared.

Clothing played a part, indicating preference. Carl wore pure black like the majority, as if determined to gain a ship. Commander Gould had insisted on it.

But I’m going to fail.

Others wore yellow, green or red patches: those who wanted to live on a planet (usually because they were raised on a realspace world among ordinary humans); those who wanted to remain in Labyrinth, shipless; and those who professed no ambition but to accept judgement.

It’s going to be awful.

For a second, he fantasized about faking sudden illness. But the local scan nodes would check him over without even contacting MedCentral; and besides, half the Pilot Candidates looked ready to throw up.

‘Look at chickenshit Anderson.’ Riley, bluff and square-jawed, gestured towards a candidate with scarlet epaulettes. ‘Accepting judgement, my ass. He doesn’t deserve a ship, no way, and he knows it.’

‘Who can know what will happen?’ Soo Lin looked calm. ‘Perhaps acceptance is wise.’

‘Yeah? So how come you’re wearing black, my friend?’

‘I know who I am.’

‘And you know you’re going to fly, cos you is a Pilot, right? Exactly my point. Even Blackstone agrees, don’t you, pal?’

‘Er, sure,’ said Carl.

‘You could be more positive.’

‘It’s just—’

But then Lianna was walking towards them. Riley fell silent. Most of the males nearby were looking.

‘Are we all supporting each other?’ Her voice was gentle in the way a whip is soft. ‘So where is Eleanor? Who’s watching out for her?’

From the tearful conversations of the past few days, Eleanor’s confidence was lower than anyone’s, her stress levels higher.

‘Come on, guys.’ Lianna, as she turned around, looked lean and very fit. ‘Can’t anyone see her?’

She was the fastest runner in their year, but dismissed all compliments on her athleticism, respecting only academic achievement. Around her, the air was only faintly amber, the distortions from Euclidean reality scarcely apparent.

They might almost have been in realspace, instead of an annexe of Hilbert Hall in the heart of Labyrinth.

No pressure, making this a public ceremony.

If only he had remained on Molsin, or some other human world. Some of those young Pilots never even came here, believing that Labyrinth and the rest of mu-space held nothing for them. They might be wrong, but at least they would avoid the humiliation about to be inflicted on him.

A message reverberated through their minds.

=Pilot Candidates, make ready.=

Soundless, it thrummed inside them.

=Fifteen minutes remain in which to compose yourselves. =