Mr Wing maintained his cheerfulness. 'Come,' he said to the ladies, 'I will show you what this is all about.'

He went up to the communal TV and turned it on with an expert's flourish. Up came not a movie or the local news, but a screenful of other buttons.

'You see? You can choose what you want. You can choose anything.' And he touched the screen.

Up came the local Talent, still baring her perfect teeth. She piped in a high, enthusiastic voice that was meant to appeal to men and Bright Young Things:

'Hello. Welcome to the Airnet Information Service. For too long the world has been divided into information haves and have-nots.' She held up one hand towards the heavens of information and the other out towards the citizens of the Green Valley, inviting them to consider themselves as have-nots.

'Those in the developed world can use their TVs to find any information they need at any time. They do this through the Net.'

Incomprehension followed. There were circles and squares linked by wires in diagrams. Then they jumped up into the sky, into the air – only the air was full of arcing lines. 'The field,' they called it, but it was nothing like a field. In Karzistani, it was called the Lightning-Flow, Compass-Point Yearning Field. 'Everywhere in the world.' Then the lightning flow was shown striking people's heads. 'There have been many medical tests to show this is safe.'

'Hitting people with lightning?' Kwan asked in crooked amusement. 'That does sound so safe, doesn't it?'

'It's only the Formatting that uses the Yearning Field,' said Sloop. 'That happens only once. It makes a complete map of minds, and that's what exists in Air, and Air happens in other dimensions.'

'What?'

'There are eleven dimensions,' he began, and began to see the hopelessness of it. 'They were left over after the Big Bang.'