Air

by Geoff Ryman

  “Hmm. And you think you can run a business of this size by yourself?”

  “Oh, I do not think that,” said Mae, ringing her little bell voice. “I know I can. So I will not be needing your help.”

  MAE MOVED INTO THE ATTIC.

  She wanted it that way, to keep her new TV out of the way of thieves, she said. She did not mention the Flood to Siao.

  “That will be fine,” said Siao. “I was tired of that attic. But, hoi, Mae! Let me tell you—that attic is cold! Are you sure you want to be up there?”

  “Siao. I am a fallen women. People will be more comfortable coming to your kitchen to offer you work if I am not there.”

  His eyes looked briefly pained and then he nodded yes.

  As if to make it up to her, Siao made a pulley. It had a strong net to carry things and strong wooden wheels and it could hoist her TV up and down from the attic. “In case you want to take it outside in summer to teach,” he said.

  Siao was plainly overjoyed to be back. He scampered, bringing in charcoal for the braziers, making a new bedspace for his father beside the fire, and screwing hooks into the roofbeam. He ducked and climbed and dangled, as lithe as any monkey.

  Mae warmed whisky, and around their old wooden table, they all toasted the Chung family and its house. “The new house,” they called it, as if it had been rebuilt.

  And then, alone and wearing every single piece of clothing she possessed to keep warm, Mae sat alone in her attic, in front of a television of her own.

  “Please say hello,” it asked her, to start the process of getting to know her.

  “Hello,” replied Mae. It was like meeting a female cousin for the first time and knowing you were going to become friends.

  She entered a new e-mail address—the one she had told Kwan’s machine to forward e-mail to—and at last began to work on her own. She sipped yet more warmed whisky, and went to work.

  audio file from: Mr. Hikmet Tunch

  17 December

  I have been looking at a particular site in America about history and have found it very interesting. Perhaps friends of yours would like to know it is available. Strange indeed are the uses to which we all are put. I myself come from a long line of peasant soldiers of the Karz. Throughout history, we have laid down our rakes and picked up our axes to march off to bash the Happy Province into submission. But it is like a walnut that does not break open, but is only driven into the mud, so that it sprouts again. I seem to have been used to help plant it afresh. Once there was a dictator. He drove millions to various kinds of deaths, by war, in prison, or simply in harsh deserts farming their lives away. He destroyed temples, burned books, and ruined the art of calligraphy. He wrote terrible poetry and forced everyone to learn it, so destroying the literary taste of one quarter of humanity. He remained a warrior even as Chairman. He was at his best as a warrior, because as a warrior, he was fighting for his people, dreaming for them. After that, he only ground them down. But I forgive him for saying one beautiful thing:

  “Women hold up half the sky.”

  —Chairman Mao Tse Tung

  19

  audio file from: Mrs. Chung Mae

  26 December

  Mr. Oz,

  Kwan has an e-mail saying that Teacher Shen has lost his job and is to be replaced. How? The snows have come. You can’t get even a tractor up our road now. So is Teacher Shen supposed to go on teaching unpaid? How will it help our children if there is no school? Look, okay, Teacher Shen gave me a big blow and did the Party of Progress great harm. But this will do no good. Please listen to his wife, our friend Shen Suloi.

  Mr. Oz-sir, I am Mrs. Shen Suloi, the wife of Teacher Shen. Gracious friend, you have been all kindness to us and we need your help again. My husband is wrong about the TV and Air, he sees these things as a great flood that will sweep everything away, but he is a good man and he wants the best for the children of our village. Gracious friend, it is a very bad thing that the message he lost his job came through the TV, and came after your visit. This makes many men here think of the TV as an enemy. They think it spies for the government. They think it takes away a man’s whole life. Many say they will not let their children go to school if it is taught by a government replacement woman. My husband goes on teaching now for no money, but he is brokenhearted. We are poor people, Mr. Oz, okay? That is hard for us to admit—easier perhaps for the women. We have four children ourselves, and no farm. My husband goes to the school with his shoulders hunched. He does not comb his hair. He sits at night by the single candle and weeps. All his life he trained to be Teacher. It was a great accomplishment for a boy from Kizuldah, and now that has gone, and his wife makes more money than he does. So can you talk to the people who did this and explain we have no Teacher? Can you get them to give my husband back his job?

  This is Mrs. Chung. Tell them this mail comes from me, whom he harmed. Winter is when our children traditionally do their lessons. It does no good to have no Teacher here now.

  audio file from: Mr. Oz Oz

  27 December

  Mae, I am angry, too. They didn’t even tell me. It is like that—you make a report, and they go off and do something and don’t even consult with the person who was there. It is typical of the Central Office to work in that way. I don’t know why I stay with them. They never listen. They have no management skills. I feel terribly embarrassed but it is not my fault. What can I do?

  audio file from: Mrs. Chung Mae

  27 December

  I don’t care about all of that—what are you going to DO NOW?

  e-mail from: Mrs. Wing Kwan

  29 December

  Dear Secretary Goongoormush,

  I am a partner with Madam Chung Mae. Our business was recently featured in the New York Times. The attached files of access statistics and business turnover shows our venture to be one of the most successful under the Taking Wing Initiative. My husband is manager of Swallow Communications, also funded by the Initiative.

  I say this only to show that I, along with Chung Mae and others, represent what we here call the Party of Progress. Your representative Mr. Oz Oz accurately reported that our efforts have been hampered by the local schoolteacher, Mr. Shen Yoh.

  However, removing Teacher Shen from his post at this time will slow progress. His replacement will not be able to get up our road in winter. This could leave our children without schooling during this crucial year of Taking Wing.

  Teacher Shen has not seen the benefits of Info. But he is a good man, and we of the Party of Progress request his reinstatement.

  Yours,

  Mrs. Wing Kwan

  audio file from: Mr. Oz Oz

  30 December

  Mae, are you crazy? A letter from Kwan? She is not the best-regarded person in Kizuldah. I have raised the issue, but my boss tells me it is all down to the Office of Discipline and Education, and their own 2020 Vision campaign. So, you see how I am prevented at every turn from helping.

  audio file from: Mrs. Chung Mae

  30 December

  I do indeed see what stops you helping us.

  IT WAS DAWN, AND IN HER LOFT, MAE COULD HEAR THE WEAVING MACHINE AT WORK.

  It made a neat whirring sound that reminded Mae of hummingbirds. She could hear it through her walls as she worked. She could imagine it extending a tongue of beautiful new knitware.

  Her new TV was strung in a hammock and held up by Siao’s pulley. It was early morning and Mae was building a new site. It was not going well. Well, at least one screen worked.

  OLD CARS NEVER DIE,

  they just go to Mr. Pin-sir’s

  DYNAMIC CAR SURGERY.

  Also their cousins tractors, trailers and vans.

  All vehicles are charmed by the Car Surgeon’s bedside manner and kind, skilled hands.

  Mae had written letters telling everyone about her new Net services. Her first customer, Mr. Pin, had shown up two days ago.

  Mr. Pin did not want to speak to Madam Owl. He sat with Siao, ignoring Mae
and twisting the letter in his hand. He had no more idea of what to do with the Net than use it to make himself seem more modern. That meant, more modern than his great and murderous rival, Mr. Enver Atakoloo.

  Siao kept trying to defer to Mae, to direct Mr. Pin’s questions to her. Finally, to relieve everyone’s embarrassment, Mae had gone back upstairs into the loft.

  She listened from upstairs, and was surprised at how useful Siao was. Mr. Pin was a difficult man to help. He did not understand what the TV was for, and was frightened that the government would see anything about him.

  Siao kept explaining. It took hours and a bottle of warmed rice wine. Siao’s idea was to put a list on the machine called, “Mr. Pin’s Helpful Service that Answers Your Questions.”

  It would give people advice on how to check the car was working or to make simple repairs themselves. Mr. Pin did not understand the principles of Info mat-unrolling—giving something away for free. Siao evidently did. He explained that free Info made friends with the customers and showed you were expert. More importantly, it got rid of the less profitable parts of your business by giving away all the little pieces of advice that made no money.

  Pin, drunk by now, finally got it. “Ah, Mr. Siao-sir, what a brain you have! You should be running a bank, sir!”

  Siao coaxed out of Mr. Pin everything that could go wrong with a car and whether most people could fix it themselves, and if not, how much it would cost.

  Siao then clambered up the ladder with a written list. His manner had no pride in it. Businesslike, he had read it out to Mae and into the machine.

  Mae was using that information to make her first intelligent voiceform. It was supposed to ask questions and leave time for the innocent to reply into the microphone.

  “Nature of the problem?”

  “The car won’t start when…”

  “Huh? Please repeat the nature of the problem.”

  “Won’t start…”

  “Huh? If you are having difficulty, please make an appointment with Mr. Pin. Can you bring the car in? Answer yes or no.”

  “No!”

  “Can you bring the car in? Answer yes or no.”

  “Yes!”

  The voiceform did a kind of flip and started to repeat over and over. “Answer … Answer … Answer…”

  “Shitcakes,” said Mae, and thumped the TV. “Stop. Save.” Mae arched herself backwards to bend her spine in the opposite direction. “Create e-mail to sloop@karzphone.co.kz. Attach program file Pinform Three.”

  Mae sent the form to the Sloop, the telephone engineer in Yeshibozkent who had first tried to explain TV to her. He helped her with difficult encoding. For a fee. How was she supposed to make money from this?

  Mae sighed and thought about breakfast.

  She went downstairs and was surprised to see Siao and Old Mr. Chung were up this early and at breakfast. Then she saw the time. It was eight-thirty A.M. Siao had his head in his hands.

  Siao held out a paper towards Mae. “Your brother,” he said, shaking his head.

  “What has he done now?” Mae was prepared to be breezy about her brother. He was inconvenient, like burnt porridge and a pan that needed to be scrubbed.

  Siao’s face curled inward on itself, lips disappearing. “You will not believe it. He is claiming your business.”

  “What! How can he do that?” Mae made the face she got when she shooed midges from her eyes, a squinting and a shaking of the head.

  Siao read the letter to Mae. It was a from a city lawyer.

  Under section 99.54 of the Worldly Property Act, it is evident that Madam Chung Mae, having deserted her husband, has no claims on the family property. The residence Down Court 2 on Lower Street having been sold, this leaves only the family’s business interests. Since Mr. Chung Joe has residence in Balshang, plainly the family business in fashion, Net design, and clothes production has been taken over by his deserting wife, who has no legal entitlement to it.

  Mrs. Chung has shown continual lack of judgement and bizarre behavior since an unfortunate incident resulting from the Air Test. This has been fully documented; see affidavits from Dr. Bauschu, who attests to an induced schizophrenia following the Test.

  Mrs. Chung’s bizarre behavior has included attacking a village elder with cleavers, desertion of her husband, an illicit love affair, and a complete rejection of her own maiden family, causing her elderly mother great distress.

  As male head of her family, I therefore claim immediate control of all these business interests in order to preserve and protect them and to put them under rightful management …

  Hatred came to Mae—pure and whole and all-consuming. She sat down with a bump. Ju-mei was very lucky that he was not in the room, for she would surely have picked up her cleavers again.

  “I cannot believe this. He can do that?”

  “It is an old law. It is to avoid women taking over things. But the law exists.”

  “I will kill him!”

  “That will just leave you in prison.”

  Siao lit a cigarette and looked Mae in the eyes. “How much do you trust me?” he asked.

  Mae blinked at the unexpected question. “I don’t know. I have never had to trust you, Siao.”

  He nodded, and his eyes turned momentarily inward towards himself. He had not made himself present before. “We could say that this is a Chung family business. And that therefore Mr. Wang can keep his nose out of it.”

  Mae could see why he had asked. “We could indeed.” And she did indeed feel mistrust. She did not want Joe or Siao taking it over, either.

  “I could say it is Chung family business, and that Ju-mei may be a head of family, but it is the wrong family. We could say that whether you are suitable or not, is not for him or his lawyer to say.”

  Old Mr. Chung shook his head. “They take everything away.”

  “Not if we don’t let them, Papa,” said Siao.

  “We will need a lawyer,” said Mae. “Lawyers know people, they know how the government works. Inshallah!” She put her own head in hands. “Oh, I do not need this! I tell you, all of this will drive me mad!”

  “I should not say things like that for a while,” said Siao.

  Mae went to her machine and voicemailed Kwan. Kwan gave her the name of a lawyer, and suggested that it might be better if she, Kwan, wrote the letter.

  “Mae, when you get angry you sometimes say things.”

  “I never want to see any of my family ever again.”

  “That is exactly what I mean.”

  Kwan produced a draft in her own name, writing as a member of the Circle. It was the complete expression of a reasonable, ladylike person, setting out a situation in which she herself had rights. The business apparently belonged to everyone in the Circle, including Kwan.

  I hope, Mae thought, I am not about to have trouble with her too.

  Siao looked pensive. “That is another line to take, and perhaps even better than saying it is a Chung family business. But consider. It could be that Ju-mei does not do this because he thinks he can get the business. Maybe he just wants a cut.”

  “He wants a cut, all right, I’ll give him a cut. He knows nothing about Info, nothing about Air, nothing about anything, he is just jealous and always has been.”

  “He is those things. You have to accept that. You can’t change who your brother is.” Siao knew something about accepting difficult brothers.

  Mae said nothing. Siao said, “Mae, I don’t think it’s money he wants. I think he wants respect. That is why he is always in city overcoat and city hat. It is why he is an insurance agent up here in the hills, even though none of us can afford insurance.”

  Mae was furious. “I will never talk to him ever again. For me he ceases to live. A toad has more of my notice than that city suit of pretension and jealousy.”

  “You and your sister ran the family,” said Siao. “All he sees is his power-grabbing sister who is always, always, ahead of him, and he yearns, just once, to win. I would sa
y that what he wants is for you to need him.”

  “Tuh! Him? You are too nice, Siao. Ju-mei wants success and loot.”

  “What a man wants more than anything else, Mae, is to be needed.” Siao’s voice was very quiet. “If a man is not needed he does one of two things: He gives up and becomes quiet and angry. Or he rages and becomes loud and angry. Both are the same.” Siao’s eyes said, I know.

  And Mae thought: He means himself.

  She said, “Ju-mei has his wife and child to need him.”

  Siao shrugged. “That will not be enough if you are a cloud over his head.”

  “So. What do you suggest we do?”

  “I suggest you spend no money on lawyers. That is what he wants you to do so that he can go to court and humiliate you.” Siao was thinking. “You can apologize.”

  “What!”

  Siao could not help but smile. “A-ha, you see, you like being right, too. You are both from the same family.”

  “Apologize for what?”

  “Lying to him.”

  “I never lied to him.”

  “Did you tell him about your plans for the business?”

  “What? No! Of course not!”

  “Ah, so you did not tell your own brother the truth. And what is not telling the truth, Mae?”

  Mae was flabbergasted. “But, but, it it it it…”

  Siao was starting to chuckle. “You hid the truth. Hiding the truth is a lie.”

  “But it is not like I told him I was not doing any business! What business is it of his?”

  “He is your brother. What he is doing is trying to make the law enforce that. Yes, he wants to do it in a way that hurts you, but that’s because you have hurt him, and he thinks you must have done it deliberately. I know! You didn’t do anything to hurt him deliberately. But you hurt him. What is he looking for here? To be head of family, and to be your brother. He knows in his heart that you married, and are no longer a Wang.”

  “Tuh. He knows in his heart he wants money.”

  “I know in his heart he wants much more than that. I tell you. Let me write the letter.” Siao could not resist a little joke. “Women are so insensitive. They cannot understand a man’s finer feelings.”