He maintained his speed. He didn’t know this district, but the Luxer’s machine-spirit was good at letting him chart sensible routes ahead. Soon he was back in the shadowed lanes between tatty tenement blocks, out of the light, the rainwater gurgling frothily in the culverts. Gaudy commercia screens slipped past him, blinking in the semi-dark.

His pursuer remained in contact. It didn’t look much like they were worried about detection, but they held back just enough to encourage him to keep going. The driver was good. Zidarov pushed harder, taking a sharp right-hand and powering up an ascending track crammed with food stalls on either side. As he engaged the engines, the paper lanterns strung overhead swayed and bucked.

A complex junction was coming up. It might be busy, but if he took it fast, it was an opportunity to lose the tail. They’d assume, from his speed, that he was going straight, but a hard left would plunge him into an even narrower labyrinth of side streets. There was a reason he’d opted for an expensive transport.

Zidarov depressed the velocity controller, and surged towards the intersection. Then he slowed sharply, letting the pursuer get a little closer. As the intersection swelled towards them both in the forward screen, he abruptly sped up, powering towards it. That had the effect he’d been hoping for, and the following groundcar also picked up speed.

Zidarov reached the junction, still going at speed, and kicked in the brakes, seizing up the rear wheels and sending the groundcar into a slide. Spray flashed up along the right-hand side as he jarred it left before pouring on the power again. The Luxer leapt forward, skidding towards a narrow opening. Zidarov gritted his teeth, trusting to his aim, and just about made the gap. The tyres squealed along the edge of the sidewalk, lurching him around a bit, until he bumped down the slender avenue, back on the asphalt, and kept going.

He glanced into his rear viewfinder and saw his pursuer spinning wildly in the rain, engines screaming.

He smiled, and returned his gaze to the fore viewscreens, just in time to see the two immense cargo haulers wedged in front of him ahead.

He jammed on the brakes, causing a brace of red lumens to flare up across the console. He felt himself thrown forward against the restraints, and the groundcar sheered in the wet, almost ploughing straight into the right-hand hauler.

With a few inches to spare, the Luxer ground to a halt. Zidarov slumped back in his seat, breathing hard. That had almost been it.