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The State of the Art(23)

By:Iain M. Banks


melted; they tried oxy-acetylene torches, which

disappeared into the mother-of-pearl covering

without producing any noticeable effect; oxygen

lances, which did no better; shaped-charge

explosives, which shifted the whole thing across

the floor of the hangar; and laser beams, which

bounced off and frazzled the roof.

A few days later a truck left the Mercantsville base

and made its way to the nearest I.M.C.C.

laboratory.



Professor Feldman had started a series of chess

games with the foreign minister.Two more people

had arrived in the outer-outer office to wait.One of

the generals had given up and left.Professor

Feldman could see that he might have to wait quite

a while before being granted an audience with Mr

Borges.He had a sinking feeling that by the time he

got in to see the chief, all the problems in the

world that the A.R.P. was supposed to help

alleviate would have disappeared, one way or

another.

The foreign minister wasn't very good at chess.



The scoutship warped its way through space.

Matriapoll picked what passed with his people for

a nose and watched the show on the control-cabin

screen.The show was extremely boring; yet another

quiz programme where people answered questions

that were far too easy and got prizes that were far

too expensive, but Matriapoll kept watching

because the hostesses who showed the prizes to the

audience were beautiful.The green one in

particular had the most superb trio of phnysthens

he could recall seeing.

The show cut out suddenly and was replaced by a

picture of stars.One star was ringed in red by the

ship's computer.

'Is that where we're going?' said a little voice

behind him.

'Yes,' said Matriapoll to Twoey.The little animal

curled its arm around his neck and peeped over his

shoulder, rubbing its snout on his collar.

'That's where the Transporter's focused?'

'Right there, on the system's sun.' Matty frowned.

'Or at least that's where it's meant to be targeted.'



Another Gift turned up in Kansas, another in

Texas.One was seen from a drilling rig in the Gulf

of Mexico, falling into the water.They still hadn't

worked out how to open them.They tried

bombarding them with light, radio, x and gamma

rays and they tried ultrasonic equipment on it

too.They did all the same things to the Kansas

object and the Texas object, but none of them gave

up any of their secrets.

Eventually they put the original bundle into a

vacuum chamber.That didn't work either until they

heated one side and froze the other.The thing

peeled like a wrapper off candy, and for an instant

the people outside the chamber were left gazing at

something that looked like a cross between a suit

of armour and a missile, before it blew up and

caught fire.

They were left with a very odd pile of junk, but the

next time



Cesare was on the phone.

'Okay, I'm a busy man; there are a lot of people

waiting to see me.What is it?'

The phone made noises.Cesare watched the

Manhattan skyline, then he said, 'Oh yeah?'

The phone made more noises.Cesare nodded.He

inspected his fingernails and sighed.

While he was doing that, a general swinging on the

end of a length of rope tied around his waist

passed in front of Cesare's office window waving

plans for a new high-altitude bomber.Cesare

looked into the phone.

'What?'

The rope came back empty, and a sheaf of papers

floated for a moment in front of the glass before the

breeze caught them and took them away, drifting

slowly down to the streets, eighty floors below.

'And it's just floating there?No engines?No noise?

Nothing?'

The rope was hanging just outside the window, the

remains of a poorly tied knot at the end.

'Anti-gravity?Sure.'

Cesare put the phone down without another word. I

am surrounded by idiots , he thought.



Gifts started popping into existence all over the

place.Some were found in Europe, one in

Australia, two in Africa, three in South America.

I.M.C.C had thirteen, eleven of them found in the

USA and one each from South America and

Africa.They found out how to open them without

damaging the contents, and what they found were

some very odd things indeed.

One kept trying to walk away on its five legs.It

looked a little like a spider.Another just floated in

mid-air without any apparent means of support.It

vaguely resembled a typewriter with

headlamps.Another was the size of a sub-compact

automobile and tried to talk to everybody with

blond hair in a language which appeared to consist

mostly of grunts and wind-breaking noises.Yet

another seemed to be a different size and shape

every time you looked at it.All were very difficult

to take apart, and the analysis of any bits that they

did eventually succeed in removing didn't make

sense.