Geoff Ryman - Air (or Have Not Have)

'Oh, that is very good luck: That means your wish gets to Heaven even faster.'

Mae thought, I think Kuei has just made that up.

But, oh, he was handsome, his hair combed, his broad shoulders in a nice new shirt, his round legs in beautiful new slacks.

Mae and Siao strolled slightly behind them, holding hands.

Siao had caught her glance and grinned. 'I have found you out,' he said, teasing. 'I know you have a lover. But I am not sure who it could be.'

'Ah, now I am undone,' said Mae. She played along, but she could still be taken aback by Siao's unexpected habit of turning the most painful things into jokes.

'People even say that once you had a crush on my brother Joe,' said Siao.

'Joe? Don't be silly. Maybe when he was younger and more fashionable. I only like fashionable men.'

'Ah,' said Siao, who even on this big night wore his stonemason's grey sweatsuit. ' That is what you see in me.'

He grinned at her with his beautiful catlike face. That was the village face when it was beautiful, like Mrs Tung's, I love both of my men, thought Mae.

She walked, ponderous with contentment and pregnancy. I feel like a ewe on the pastures at lambing time.

'Mrs Chung-ma'am!' someone called. Mrs Hoiyoo, Kwan's sister, was waving from a high window. 'Your special dress is so beautiful!'

It was airy and embroidered. 'Shen Suloi made it for me!' Mae called back.

'The girls look excited.'

'They are beside themselves. See you there!'

The village square was already full of people. Mr Ken's daughters saw friends, squealed and ran off, clutching their boats of wishes.

The village square was newly paved with honey-coloured stone. Their once wayward little river was now firmly disciplined in a decorative zigzag channel. The bridge which had conveniently dropped down from Upper to Lower Street was now firmly mortared in place, and hung with lights.

Once, the lights would have hung from the One Tree, and the children would have been in the swings soaring higher and higher over the heads of the festival. The children did not even miss the tree now.

'Dad! We'll need more duct tape!'

Genghiz Atakoloo shouted down from scaffolding at the edge of the drop. It would hold all the village TVs, for everyone to see. His father, Enver Atakoloo, bristled his white moustache. Mae remembered that her first real crush had been for Mr Atakoloo, who in those days had been strong and bull-like with his black eyes and black stubble. On the terrible day that he killed Mr Pin and was carried off to prison, Mae had wept. Joe came up behind her and said that she must get used to that, because one day, he, Joe, was going to kill someone and go to prison, too.

'I miss Joe,' Mae said to Siao.

'I know,' said Siao, and gave her hand a shake.

Mae coughed up bile, and moved her handkerchief over her mouth.

Dawn came bouncing up, pulling her mother, Mrs Ling.

'My mother says you are no longer pretty,' giggled Dawn.

'Oh!' exclaimed her mother.

'She says that you are an Imam instead.' Dawn dissolved into giggles. 'Where is your white turban?' She kept chuckling.

'Mae,' said Ling, in apology.

'It is nice to be called an Imam,' Mae said with a shrug.

And suddenly Kwan was there with Sunni, and the women gave each other a quick hug. And Ken and Siao and the girls were all hugged in turn.

'Well!' sighed Kwan. 'We're all here.'

'Not all of us,' said Mae.

She thought of Sezen, Kai-hui, Mrs Tung, Old Mrs Kowoloia. Someone's car radio was pumping out Balshang Lectro.

'Ah,' Kwan said. 'Indeed.' The song faded away and a Talent raved over and over the Air was coming, it was Airday, and the air was 27 Air degrees.

Food came up on legs – the Pin children brought Mae plates of food. People straightened her collar for her.

Young Miss Doh approached, still yearning for love. 'This is your day,' she said to Mae.

'We are all so lucky!' said Mae.

'Lucky? Kizuldah?' said Young Miss Doh.

'We are high up, so we have rain and do not live in a desert. Our people had to fight to stay here, you know. This was the most valuable place.' Mae looked up at the ruined hills. 'We were cut off from all the madness until the very end.'

Mae looked at Miss Doh and saw that she did not feel lucky, cut off high in the hills, but it was important that she acknowledge. 'We are the last, you see,' said Mae. 'The last human beings. After tonight, everywhere, we will be different.'

The Teahouse had a new awning, and tables and chairs laid out on the new pavements. The men played cards or dominoes; some of the women knitted. Mae felt a constant churning like illness in her belly. Suddenly she felt sick and sagged slightly.

'Let's sit, shall we?' Sunni suggested.

Mr Ali stood up and offered a chair. Mae settled, still holding Siao's hand. Kwan seemed to flicker like a knife being sharpened. She shot a glance at Sunni, and Sunni stood up to fetch something or someone.

'I wonder…' Mae began. There was too much to wonder about: Where Joe was now and what he was doing; what Sezen would have done with Air if she had lived; what would happen to Mae's village after Air.

Suloi pulled up a chair, then Mrs Pin, and Mrs Doh. With a sound of scraping chairs, the Circle was suddenly gathered. Out came the clay pipes and tobacco. Siao leaned back and shared his cigarettes with Kuei.

The chat was light and distant, about Soong Chang, who was to wed one of the Pin boys. Mrs Pin must be excited. Had plans proceeded? Siao stood up and craned his neck, trying to catch someone's eye.

'I shouldn't have had anything to eat,' said Mae. She put down her plate.

The food was simply fire, raw on her ulcerated stomach.

'Ooh. All this excitement,' she said.

Sunni came back with Mrs Kosal. 'The new toilet in my house is now working, Mae, if you should need to use it.'

As if on a signal, Siao, Kuei, and Kwan were on their feet.

'Come on, Mae darling, you should see how Mrs Kosal has been able to restore the house.'

Mae chuckled. 'I just need to use the toilet.'

Mrs Hoiyoo was also there, suddenly. Kwan's sister had become a much better friend since the night of the Flood. For some reason she had a towel.

'We all want to see the new house,' said Sunni. 'Better than sitting around waiting for eleven o clock.'

On the radios all around them, Yulduz was singing about Fate, and the fate of the nation being like the fate of a person.

So they dutifully admired the paint on Mrs Kosal's wall, and agreed that there was no trace of damage now, and Kwan drew Mae off into the loo.

'It's 10:40,' warned Mrs Kosal. Her smile shook.

'Don't be frightened,' Mae said to her.

Kwan and Sunni gasped in mock approval at the modern toilet. 'Oh, they have done so well – look at this!'

'So convenient and hygienic,' said Kwan.

'Hot water,' said Sunni, in approval.

'I'm going to be sick,' Mae said shyly. She wanted them to leave.

'Poor darling,' said Kwan, and would not leave her. She patted Mae's back. She looked at Sunni, and Sunni suddenly darted away.

'I'm all right,' Mae said.

'Is it moving?' asked Mrs Kosal.

Mae flung herself forward and Mrs Pin's delicious fish salad shot whole and glossy out of her mouth.

'There,' said Mae. 'That's it.'

Sunni, smiling, stuck her head around the doorway. 'Can we come in?' she asked brightly. She prised the women apart, and Ken Kuei blundered his way forward and then settled, relieved. Siao stood respectfully behind him.

'Ach,' said Mae, 'all of you. Mrs Kosal's new toilet is not more fascinating than the Air. Come on, all of us, or we will miss the show.' She looked at Kwan. 'I feel better, really.'

This time her two men took hold of her, one on each arm.