Mae watched her hands wringing a tea towel over and over. 'And we're destroying it! We have to destroy it to live!'
Kwan was speaking quietly, but she was turned towards the Central Man. 'You asked me if anyone else died during the Test. Mae did. She was in someone else's head and they died, and Mae came back a different person. She gets like this, she joins the dead, she loses herself. She was always so beautiful. Your Test did that to my friend. I'm very angry at your Test. I'm very angry at all you people.'
And Mae saw on Kwan's stern face a single, slow tear.
The Central Man sat with a hand covering his mouth.
Was that true, what Kwan had said? Was she – Mae – in that condition?
'I'm sorry,' the Central Man managed to whisper.
'Huh,' said Kwan. A lot of use that is.
The noise from the restaurant below faded. This room became clearer, as if someone had turned on many extra lights.
Mae decided something. 'I will let you see my Question Map,' she said.
Back in Mae's house, Mr Oz read the Question Map, shaking his head over and over.
Mae said, 'I will let you have it to take away, if you tell me everything you know about Air.'
Mr Oz read the Question Map, shaking his head over and over.
Mae kept on: 'Yu En. Gates. All that stuff.'
He looked up at her. 'How?' he said. 'The quantitative data has been entered into a spreadsheet and computed. The qualitative material… How did you know how to do this? This is a structured piece of research.'
'In Air. There is a Kru in Air.'
The Central Man went very still indeed. 'You go back into Air? You are not supposed to be able to do that.'
'When… I had my accident. To get out, I made myself an Airmail address.'
'How did you do that?'
'It's my name.'
'They're not still Aircasting,' he said, perplexed.
'The Kru is still there.'
'He shouldn't be. He's copyright, he agreed to do it only for the Test.' His mouth did its downward twist.
'You people,' said Mae, 'you don't really know what Air is, do you?'
'You're right,' said the Central Man. 'We don't.'
He explained. The Kru was a great businessman, a rival of the company that made the Gates Format. He had donated his expertise as a demonstration for the Test of the Yu En Format. The deal wasn't that he would go on forever, giving away everything he knew for free. Everyone had assumed it would end with the Test.
'Mrs Tung is always with me,' said Mae.
Mr Oz left, going across the courtyard. Mae heard Old Mrs Ken greet him with all the gusto that five riels a night could purchase. Mae smelt chicken cooking for the generous guest. She sat down and wondered if Kuei would be able to visit her now, with all of his house in an uproar.
I am like someone in mourning.
Of course you are in mourning, said Old Mrs Tung.
It was a dull, kind voice.
We all want an anchor, we all want to turn the corner to go home. But home always goes away. Home leaves us. And we get older and then older again, and farther away from home. From ourselves. We die before we die, my dear. We go from village beauties to old crones; from mischievous children to weary adults; from ripe maidens full of love to embittered, used women full of bile. And all we have is love. With nothing to love, just the love, aching out, reaching out and never clasping love in return.
Just the reeds, just the swallows, just the mist in the air, the sunlight in the air, just the sound of the wind. That never changes. That is all the home we have.
Dear Old Mrs Tung.
Sleep, my dear.
For all the beauty we have lost, and all the beauty we will lose.
CHAPTER 11
The next morning Mr Oz and Mae found two groups of armed men in Mrs Wing's courtyard.
On one side were Mr Shen, Mr Koi, and Mr Masud. They were all either Eloi or old-fashioned Muslims.
Against them stood Mr Mack, Mr Pin, Mr Ali, and Old Mr Doh.
Shen said, 'We are bringing this to a stop.'
Mae read the two sides: Mr Ali was of Sunni's party. He was here to help save Kwan's machine. An alliance against Shen, so quickly? Mr Ali had brought his own gun: that would mean Shen had already threatened Mr Haseem. There was a clicking sound. Lean, brown, hard, Mr Wing stood on his steps. He held a Russian rifle with the hammer pulled back. He said, 'That does not belong to you, Shen.' From out behind him stepped Enver Atakoloo. He also had a gun.
Mae stepped forward and gave both parties a bow of respect. She said quietly, to Shen, 'Bring what to a stop, Teacher?'
Shen pointed at the TV. 'We don't want that in our village.'
'I am sure it is for you men to decide,' Mae said, sweetly. Like a cat with humans, she had a voice she only ever used with men. 'But, Teacher. Consider. You won't be able to keep out the Air when it comes.'
The Central Man felt the time had come for him to intervene with his full authority. 'Mrs Chung is right. The TV will help you prepare for April.'
Mae wanted to smile at him and weep at the same time. Poor boy, this is happening because you have arrived. You will be invisible to them, like an angel. Untouchable, but also invisible.
Mr Shen's answer was simply to walk to the TV with his rifle-butt raised to smash it.
The sky ripped open. Guns had always sounded like firecrackers to Mae, a pop, and a snap. She had always been surprised by how small they seemed.
Now, trapped within the courtyard, the sound of a gunblast battered around the enclosed space. Mae jumped, covered her ears. Please, God, no one has been hurt. She looked up. The guns were pointed at the sky. From all around the village, birdcalls billowed up into the air: screeching, shrieking, and cawing.
Everything in the courtyard was frozen. No one moved.
Mae said, 'At least that got the birds off the rice.' It was the first thing she thought.
Mr Doh, Mr Ali, and Mr Mack burst into laughter.
'It's true,' said Mae, confused. Mr Mack nodded – yes it was.
Shen stood trembling, rifle still raised.
Mr Wing warned him: 'Don't be a vandal, Shen. The government man is here to see it, you will end up in court, and it will not be because anyone betrayed you to them. Eh? Don't be foolish.'
Shen was pointing. It was hard to tell if he pointed at Wing or Kwan. 'You… stay… away from my wife!' he demanded.
All the laughter stopped. What?
Wing looked perplexed. 'What madness now, Schoolteacher?'
Silence. From the western reaches of the village came the roaring of a motorcycle.
Kwan stepped out from her diwan, onto the landing. 'He means me,' she said. 'Suloi and I are working together on a project.'
Mae felt a stirring of misgiving. Kwan and Shen's wife? When? What were they doing?
There is something my friend Kwan has chosen not to tell me.
The roar of the motorcycle grew louder. Sezen's boyfriend came through the open gate, on his cycle, Sezen riding behind. Another Bad Boy from the Desiccated Village Kurulmushkoy followed, his machine black with grease. Sezen's boyfriend hopped off, pudgy and carrying a length of pipe.
Sezen's boyfriend said, 'The machine stays.'
Shen was helpless. He looked to the old men of his party. 'You see the elements who will triumph from this thing.' Shen started to weep. 'Look at them! They think this is a Hong Kong movie. Guns and motorcycles! This is how the world will now be. With women running rampant with foolish ideas. Bad children, running wild.'
A division seemed to break inside Mae's head, as if blood had found a fresh way to flow. She suddenly remembered the angry driven child within Teacher Shen. She saw him as a little soul, to be protected. Her eyes blurred over as if milk were inside them, and her throat felt gnarled, rumbly.
'It has always been thus,' Mae heard herself say, as if she were sitting back and listening to someone else.