Geoff Ryman - Air (or Have Not Have)

'After a year, it could be as much as six hundred riels.' Mae paused, waited.

Sunni was very good. She did not flinch, she gave no sign. She began to sweep nonexistent crumbs of food from the table into her cupped hand. Still in silence, she raised her eyebrows as if to say: So? What is your proposition?

'For example, this dress expresses the model's interest in Third World issues.'

Mae took the plunge. 'Mr Wing can ensure that you do not have to pay them. He can arrange things so that they go to his account and the government will pay them.'

Sunni's visage did not alter in any respect.

'In exchange he wants the warfare between us to stop.'

'There is no warfare.'

'Sunni,' warned Mae.

'No, there is none.'

Mae quoted Sunni's leaflet. '"Now that certain parties have been uncovered as offering false advice…" That is what you wrote about me, Sunni. It is one thing to set yourself up in business. It is another to call me a fraud and to invite your friends to mock me.'

'I will remind you of a certain incident on your screen,' said Sunni, darkening.

'Indeed. I have not forgotten. That is part of the war. It must stop, Sunni. While we play village games, the world is beating down our door. While we try to destroy each other, it will destroy us.'

'I will demand a full public apology,' said Sunni.

'I will demand that we both apologize to each other in public. At the same time. That way everyone knows: The TV people are united.'

'And I will need individual assessment of what you say about charges.'

Mae nodded. 'I can bring the government man here. No, Sunni, not to make trouble, please hear me out. I can make it look like a friendly visit. And you can ask him yourself: "The TV is new." I will say you have just bought it. "What kind of charges would I pay?" '

More crumb-sweeping. There was hurt behind Sunni's eyes.

'There is one more thing, Sunni. The loan. The terms of the loan will change. It becomes interest-free.'

And this was something Mae was keeping from Kwan. She did not want to be beholden to Kwan.

Sunni went still altogether. 'You know I cannot agree to that by myself.'

'You can perhaps talk to your husband.'

'I will see.'

'Just remember, Sunni, the bills mount up, all the time that thing is on.'

Sunni sighed. Oh, it was like wearing the wrong-size shoe, for her to be in a weak position. She was not used to cutting losses.

Sunni said, 'I could always have a word with the Central Man and mention to him whatever it is Mrs Wing and Mrs Shen are making.'

'Oh!' groaned Mae, in utter weariness. 'I am talking about an alliance that will benefit everyone. And you threaten me! Sunni, how can the village learn, if it has to ration the TV? Two machines will be much better than one. Can't you see? We both win, if we agree to this. Or, yes, we can both lose. Badly, very badly. Perhaps one of us will go to jail. But which one of us will be beloved in the village, Sunni, if you are known to have betrayed Mr Wing to the government?'

Sunni's gaze was not direct. 'I did not say that.'

'You said you would tell the Central Man, Sunni. You meant that you could betray Kwan and get the Wings into trouble. Didn't you?'

She was silent.

'Sunni. From the beginning, I have not wanted to be your enemy. If you tell yourself the tale of what has happened, you will see that the first hostile move was your husband's. And I am not always the most pleasant person in the world when I am angry. So, yes, I behaved badly.'

All Sunni wanted was to be first, and Mae was always ahead of her. Even now she had lost, for Mae was the first to propose peace and in such a way as to garner advantage.

Curiously enough, that was sufficient revenge.

'Talk to your husband, Sunni. That is necessary. The terms are simple. We are friendly rivals in business. We both work to teach the village. We both work against the party that wants the TVs off. And as a gesture, the loan becomes interest-free.'

It was all a bit of pretence. Mae was being clear, not for Sunni, but for Mr Haseem, whom she was reasonably certain could hear every word. Mae sat and waited.

Sunni's face was closed, not exactly in shame, but in hurt. How she wanted to be the village leader, the 'ma'am' of the village. But Kwan would always be that. Sunni would never be free, not until Kwan died. And by then it would probably be the turn of An, or someone like her. Mae found she did indeed pity Sunni. All that time with nothing to do because her husband would not let her work. Mae pitied her lack of application. Sunni, Mae knew, was not as smart as others.

Sunni said, 'I have the better fashion sense.'

Mae pondered this for a moment. 'I think you are probably right, Sunni.' For rich ladies, with money to spend, you are probably right. But you know, I think I will be the one to make the money. Mae chuckled to herself. 'You are certainly younger and better looking too.'

Sunni wasn't laughing. Sunni was not loved by a beautiful man, who cooked dinner for her, who had wanted her since he had been sixteen. Could Sunni stand to sleep with that harsh husband?

To be jealous is futile; we are all human, we all live in pain, and Sunni lives in more than most.

That does not give her the right to steal my shoes or stand on my toes.

'Sunni, I know you are very busy. Mrs Ali sometimes visits my lessons at Mrs Wing's. Perhaps she could tell me what you decide.'

Since you will not want to visit my hovel, or risk coming to Mrs Wing's.

'Is it really as much money as you say?' Sunni asked. Ah, money, the juice of life. At least yours. Their eyes finally met.

'Yes, Sunni, it is.' Mae stood up to go.

They exchanged polite greetings and Mae left.

Outside in the street, Mae felt a wild joy swing out of her, like when she had been a schoolgirl and flung her bag of books into the air. She was free of the interest on that loan! They would pay back twenty-five riels a year, and use the money as capital! She could use it to buy cloth or Joe could invest in the farm. Joe would bring back more money; they would be comfortable and happy.

She thought again that she must put distance between herself and Mr Ken. Otherwise the fabric of her life would be torn. She would tell Kuei that she would always love him, but that it was impossible to continue. She would hold the memory of him always to her, like pressed flowers hidden in schoolbooks, like clever old Mrs Tung and her secret love. And she would teach the TV and she would pick the brains of the Central Man.

Mae would learn to put up a screen, too, just like Kwan, only Kwan would wonder how she had learned so quickly.

A screen of what?

Of fashion? Of course, the whole world would want fashion from a mountaintop in mid-Asia. That was the very thing they lacked. Mae laughed at herself, and went, 'Wheeeeeee!' And spun, and saw Kwan's screens, of Eloi embroidery.

And suddenly she saw the screen slightly different. It offered Eloi embroidery for sale. The year's most unusual fashion statement. Expressing the model's interest in Third World issues.

Mae's smile was fading. Instead, excitement seemed to grip her stomach.

Native Eloi embroidery, unavailable except through these treasured outlets.

Either broaden what you make, or extend your geography, the Kru had whispered.

Videos could be sent for free to the big stores. She could tell the big stores about her Eloi fashion, and if they liked it, fine. Then she could buy the cloth and the bead.

Reduce your risk at every opportunity.

So she only makes them when she is paid.

Individually tailored to meet your requirements.

Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! Her effrontery made her giggle. Sell to Singapore, Tokyo, Taiwan. Maybe even Paris or New York. The calls would be free, from Wing's magic free TV. Mae will send her offer with her pretty pictures, but it will not be fashion she is offering. She will offer something real, something from the mountain, something from a long-forgotten, beautiful people.