Three threads—which, of course, all dovetail beautifully in the climax—alternate throughout this book.

The first string of plot concerns Marcelina Hoffman, a TV producer in Rio in the year 2006. (But is Marcelina's continuum precisely ours, or another? Small clues seem to indicate an alternate reality.) Marcelina is not really a very nice person. Her reality shows are gruesome, degrading or exploitive. Her latest project concerns a disgraced soccer star, Barbosa. Her search for the elderly reclusive man takes her across many strata of Brazil's society, giving us an intimate view of a land full of riches and poverty. But soon Marcelina's efforts are being undermined by a mysterious stranger—a woman who could be her twin, and who has murderous intentions toward Marcelina.

Our second strand takes place in the years 2032-33. We follow the seedy exploits of Edson de Freitas, a guttersnipe with some native wit and compassion. Living a rough life, menaced by fellow toughs on one side and authorities on the other, Edson still manages to fall in love with a woman named Fia Kishida, an expert in quantum physics who has turned her talents to illicit ends. When Fia is killed, Edson is bereft. But then a second Fia appears, unfortunately bringing on her tail trained assassins named "admonitories."

Finally, we are back in colonial-era Brazil, the 1730's. Father Luis Quinn, an Irish Jesuit, has been sent up the Amazon to confront a rogue priest named Father Diego Gonçalves, who is fashioning a heart-of-darkness empire in the jungle. Luckily, Quinn acquires a boon companion, a French "geometer" named Dr. Robert Falcon. Together, the two men will battle deadly natives and the hostile environment to thwart Father Diego's mad schemes, and in the process crack the very code of the multiverse.

A samba sideways through time

"Brazil is the country of the future—and always will be!" So runs the old joke, indicating that Brazil's vast potential will remain forever untapped, due to a confluence of circumstances.

Well, it takes insight and courage to buck the common wisdom, and Ian McDonald has those qualities in large measure. His new novel—hot and tropical and full of music (there's a suggested soundtrack in the back)—finds more than enough materials and promise in this developing land to support a conceit of cosmic magnitude. (Don't imagine you can guess the ultimate ending, because you can't!) He manages to work simultaneously at many levels, from the intimate and individual to the societal and universal. And he always embodies his themes in minutely particularized images and descriptions, both quotidian and fantastical. His characters are utterly believable, grounded in their unique pasts and presents. And typical of his more stefnal speculations is his invention of "Q blades," knives with quantum edges that can sever reality. They steal the show every time they appear.

In Marcelina's sections, we get a story built of equal parts Norman Spinrad (the sardonic media satire) and Fritz Leiber (the crosstime shennanigans). In Edson's parts, McDonald distills John Brunner, Bruce Sterling and William Gibson, producing his own unique hard liquor. And in the Quinn action, we've got flavors of Neal Stephenson blended with Howard Hendrix. And don't forget that all three sections authentically render the Brazilian milieu as deftly as native writer Jorge Amado would.

The result is a tripartite thriller that whipsaws the reader's expectations and enjoyment around like a motorcycle ride straight down Sugarloaf itself. As Dr. Falcon writes in his journal, "Brazil turns hyperbole into reality." Call what McDonald does here, then, "hyper-real SF."