'Excuse me,' he said.

'You are the government,' she said, and shrugged, meaning, How am I to stop the government? His golden vehicle was the colour of sunlight through her one tiny window. Poverty was shabby around her shoulders, like a moth-eaten shawl.

'I'm not the government,' he said. 'Well… I come from it, but we are all Karzistanis. We care for our country. May I?'

He indicated a chair. What would you say, Central Man, if I denied the chair to you? Probably, Mae decided, nothing.

He finally remembered formalities and offered Mae his name. It made Mae close her eyes and smile, embarrassed for him.

His name was Oz Oz.

Last names had been adopted only in the last century. People chose their own for good luck. Oz in the Turkic language of the Karz meant 'real' and 'genuine,' and sometimes, 'naive.' The Central Man's name meant 'Mr Genuinely Sincere.'

Mr Sincere tapped the top of the table. 'The Test was far too soon,' he said. 'And Karzistan is not a powerful enough country to stop it. And,' he sighed, 'it would have been wrong to stop it, because the Test would have come, but it would have been run by big companies.'

She stared back at him.

'Big companies, owned by very rich people. They would have run the Test instead. You have heard of the Yu En? United Nations?'

She shook her head. I am an ignorant peasant.

'They decided to have the Test. The world's governments. I know: governments are not people. But they are better than big companies. Do you now how the Air works?'

'It depends what you mean.'

'All right. In a computer, there is a plate. And that plate holds Info.' He took one of her dishes as an example. 'Now, to hold any Info, it must be patterned.'

'Like embroidery?'

'It must be divided into circles, Like this. And sections, like a pie, like this, and then certain kinds of areas must be created.'

'Like the pens,' she said. 'You mean the Format.'

'Exactly!' he said. 'The Format. So. The question was this: Did we want big companies, rich men, making the shapes of people's minds?'

Mae grew solemn. 'I see,' she said, sitting forward.

His strange long monk's face looked at hers. Did she?

'The Yu En felt it had to prevent that. So it came up with a different Format. It was a Format that… that would allow more companies, more countries to join.'

'You didn't want the big companies to run people's brains,' said Mae.

'Yah,' he nodded.

'So you pushed through the Yu En Test to be first.' And, Mae thought, that's what killed people. 'I didn't push it,' he said quietly.

All you Central Men. You never say anything is your fault. 'Tuh. The big men behave like the little villages,' said Mae.

They walked back to Kwan's house.

Mae tried to delay the Central Man as long as she could, by talking about the deaths of Mrs Ken Tui and Old Mrs Tung, until he began to show signs of exasperation. As they walked, the village children, out well past bedtime, flocked around him.

Pin Soon yelped, 'You work for the government?' He gazed up at the Central Man in something like admiration.

'Yes.'

'Are you rich?'

'No.' Mr Oz chuckled. 'No one who works for the government is

rich.'

'My brother is in the army and he is rich.'

'Ah. The army. That is a different thing. What rank is he?'

Pin Soon looked blank, a bit ashamed. He didn't know. 'He drives a truck!' he announced proudly.

The Central Man asked, 'Do you go to Mrs Chung's school?'

'Yes, yes,' he piped. ' "Old Madam Death," we call her.'

The Central Man looked uncertain. 'Why is that?'

'Because the "Education" sign is an owl!' giggled Dawn, who still could not believe the stupidity of such a thing.

Mae watched for it, and saw the quick downward jerk of the mouth. An embarrassment at a certain kind of awkwardness in the world. It reminds him of himself, Mae thought.

'I asked them to call me Madam Owl, so that they would come to think in a different way about the owl.'

'Let's hope it helps,' he replied. He stopped at Kwan's gate, and turned towards the children. 'Okay. I am now visiting with Mrs Kwan, and she will not want to be bothered with so many children. So you all go home now.'

'We want to ask you more questions,' said Dawn, and put her hand experimentally into his pocket. He pulled it out, but did not slap it.

'No candy,' he said, his smile going thin. 'I have none.'

Dawn giggled. 'I was looking for money.'

He was useless. 'Dawn. I will box your ears,' warned Mae.

Dawn was laughing too hard, twisting in the Central Man's grip.

'Dawn,' said Mae, her voice darkening.

'Okay, okay,' Dawn chuckled, and pulled back.

Mae said, in her best Madam Owl voice, 'All of you go home and go to bed. Go on!'

'It is the same everywhere,' the Central Man smiled.

Then why haven't you learned how to handle it? Mae thought. She pulled the gate shut and barred it.

Then the Central Man said an unexpected thing: 'Would you say that the opposition here falls along religious lines?'

Mae's eyes boggled in the dark. You had to be very careful raising questions like that, even with no one around.

' "Religious lines?" ' she asked.

He laughed aloud. 'All right. It has in many places. Some of the minority tribes are very superstitious about it. They think the voices are ghosts or demons or something. Some of the Muslims are very welcoming.'

'We have had no trouble like that,' said Mae.

'Hmm. Well, this village is one of the best I've seen,' said Mr Oz.

Kwan was settled on her floor, sitting cross-legged. It looked as though she was writing letters. She gathered them up quickly. Mae caught her gaze and Kwan's eyes twinkled. She had done whatever it was needed doing to the TV. She went to make tea, cheerful and expansive.

The Central Man asked questions, one after another after another. They were as many as grains of rice in a terrace. Kwan yawned.

'Look, you want answers to all of these things, Mae has done a Question Map.'

'What?' He sat forward.

Oh, many thanks, Kwan.

'It was nothing,' said Mae, and she glared at Kwan.

'What do you mean, it was nothing? What did you do?' the Central Man asked.

Kwan realized her mistake: 'Oh it was a trifle.'

'A Question Map means that you go and ask everyone in the village the same questions. Is that what you did?'

Mae still could not lie. 'Yes,' she admitted. 'But it was about fashion.'

'But did it deal at all with the Test? What people felt about it? Can I see it?'

Mae's eyes narrowed and she let them drill into Kwan's. Unseen behind him, Kwan did a quick, abject bow of apology.

'I gave it to Kwan,' said Mae, still angry.

'Oh, that's right. Now, where did I put it? You know, I think Luk must have thrown it out. He thought it was just useless paper.'

The Central Man begged. 'Please let me see it, please!' The young man was very earnest. 'You don't know how important it is. No one talks to me, I am supposed to do research, but if I do it the way they want, no one will talk to me. But we need to know. We need to know, if we are to help you!'

He looked back and forth between them. I almost think I should believe you, thought Mae. But you are a government spy.

He was in despair, he ran his hand across his forehead. 'Most people are pretending it did not happen,' he said. 'They are learning nothing. They are not making ready. It will come again, as sure as winter comes. It will come next April.'

He twisted in his chair. 'And I have to be able to tell the government. They must spend money; they must send teachers out into the villages to prepare. The Test was a disaster. A disaster, but going on Air will be an even bigger one!' His fists clumsily punctured the air in frustration.