I didn't know, but it is a racket: government officials go out, and come back shoeless, saying everything is stolen, when in fact they've sold everything, especially the computer. I was the third Taking Wing operative that had come back that way, and the government was sick of it. They held me under house arrest until the computer was sold to a foreigner in Balshang. The thieves were so dumb they did not even know about the hard-disk watermark, and, thank heaven, it was an honest bumpkin of a thief who said that, yes, they had stolen it from me. He was so foolish, he even said that he had been the one to persuade the others not to kill me, thinking it would save his neck. It saved mine. The government expects its operatives to be killed defending its property, or spend time in jail. It was Allah's will – all my material on your village, including both your and Sunni's question maps had been sent online, and were received as a model of what the operatives were supposed to achieve. So, having been a thief and in serious trouble, I was restored to my former favoured position as the only operative who had succeeded in doing anything.

Thanks to God who sent you to me. Mae, it is all your work, and I have tried to tell my boss that it is so and he waves it away. After all, you are an ignorant peasant woman as far as he is concerned. Still, I have written a further report on you and I have not been short of wind in describing what Teacher Shen did to you. I expect that there will be a result there. This is not cheap revenge, Mae, for truly we cannot have teachers who block the education of our people.

It also means I am back in a position to chase your machine. As an honest victim of theft, I am in a strong position to denounce corruption. So I am making a big stink. We have traced your machine to a depot in Balshang where we have a signature. Naturally the signature matches no one who works there, so we arrested the shipping agent. Now I know why the government arrested me. The shipper is a tough but civilized man. He keeps saying he knows nothing, and probably does not. But we keep him in jail, and have seized all his goods and thrown all his people out of work so they have no money. The idea is simple. With no job, one of the employees will rat on the one who did it. All we can do is wait.

Your site makes full use of audio, video, and customer database, so everyone at Taking Wing is proud of you. But, a suggestion: Perhaps you could have something more about how much the government has done for all the united peoples of Karzistan? I know your simple heart bubbles with gratitude for the government, for I heard your words and saw your face when we opened the bank account. But some people here do not know you, and are concerned that people abroad might get an unbalanced picture of the variety of peoples in the Happy Province.

Your friend in waiting,

Mr Oz

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audio file from: Mrs Chung Mae

4 December

Mr Oz-sir

My heart delights in news from you, and I add to the chorus of voices that can confirm your innocent youth and innate honesty. I am overwhelmed that the government makes such efforts to restore my machine to me. I really am not worthy. Do make sure they know how much I owe to you and how I would not have known what to do without you. Your coming was like an angel from the Lord for us. I knelt and praised Allah, for I saw that the government of Karzistan had given me hope. I did not feel it was the place of humble fashion expert to describe the work of government, which passes my understanding. But your just admonition has shown me that however embarrassing my crude efforts would be to myself, I must add my voice to the chorus of earned praise. Please see the new addition to my site and please express my gratitude. I attach a letter for your boss, and if it is worthy, please show it to him.

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e-mail from: Lieutenant Chung Lung

7 December

I am not a son to choose to lose a mother, even when she is lost to herself. Your material at your home site has recently much improved. I trust that it was because you listened to your son's advice. Encouraged, I write again.

Yes, I married, and in confusion did not tell my mother. And my honest sister in an innocent card told the truth for me, and that is humbling. I've clipped on a picture of your new daughter. Her name is Sarah. You see perhaps why it was a bit more difficult to tell you?

Sarah is from Canada, and has chosen to cast her lot with your son, though I cannot think why. She is beautiful and intelligent, and regards your son as an educated man because of Army College. She stayed in the American Institute here while studying the history of Attila the Wonderful. She is not a model of Karzistani femininity, but she opens a world for me. She is very good with the other officers' wives, who tell me they find her delightful. She has seen your screens and your last letter and likes both very much!

I did decode your personal mail. Either I did it, or someone else would. Your friendship with the fashion magpie is well regarded by officials here. I thought I would set your mind at rest.

Your son,

Lung

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audio file from: Mr Oz Oz

9 December

Mae

Your letter was well received here. All our hearts were warmed by such simple, truthful words from a good Karzistani woman who works so hard for her people. We know what happened to your machine. You will not get that one again, but we have arrested your Mr Saatchi Saatchi. He will be executed next month. The warehouse boss who I thought was innocent, was not. My boss has personally approved a repurchase for your business. It will be delivered by the army!

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audio file from: Mr Hikmet Tunch

9 December

Mae,

I am sorry to slip back into your life, perhaps unexpectedly. Don't worry, you will not need to escape me again – though you should know that I have watched the development of your fashion screens with interest. Do you really intend to become part of a romance for Americans? They do so like foreign pets. And how is your little inner friend? Both of them. A file is attached. It is a scientific paper about you. It is about to appear in the Journal of Medical-Computer Interface. It shows that no physical change has happened to you. It shows instead that a mangled imprint of two selves have been united in Air. It shows how this could happen, due to real flaws in the UN Format. It also proves that such a catastrophe could not have occurred if the Formatting process had been achieved by opening the Gates. It suggests that elements of the Gates Format be copied across and made part of the UN system.

One further thing I meant to tell you when I drove you back. You are in the Information business, Mae. That means everyone you know will betray you. You can relax with me. I already have done that.

Your guardian angel,

Hikmet Tunch

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audio file from: Mrs Chung Mae

12 December

Bugsy, I was pleased to hear about your new apartment. I understand how lovely it is to have a place of your own and how living even with best friends produces sadness. I was so happy for you, to think of my good friend in her own place. Please send me pictures of your apartment. It will ease my heart. Oh, woman, I am avoiding telling my news because I do not know how to begin. It is so strange, the workings of life. I do not say the workings of God, because I am not sure He would do anything like this! Last night, the electricity was shining in Kwan's barn. The Circle has been sewing our beautiful collars late into the night. Naughty girl Sezen brought in some rice wine from her boyfriend's village. Why not? Her mother Hatijah, who was frightened to join the Circle at first, is becoming lively and outgoing. It is now Hatijah who warms up the wine, and it warms us, and soon we are all singing. Then the door is thrown back with a loud bang, and in comes Mr Hasan Muhammed. He is strict Muslim gentleman, white lace cap and long beautiful beard, but he is carrying a whip. He strikes the whip against the walls of the barn, and we all scream and clutch our work, for we never lose our embroidery place. There could be an earthquake and none us would lose a stitch. So we all are pressed against the wall and he prowls and curses us as wicked women all – little singing old women who sip a bit of wine.