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The State of the Art(24)

By:Iain M. Banks


Professor Feldman sat beside the Police Chief who

was waiting to see Cesare to ask whether he knew

anything about the Air Force general who had, it

seemed, jumped to his death from the roof of the

building a few days ago.The professor had been

talking about this with the policeman, and was

shocked to discover that it was the same general he

had been waiting with up to a week ago.The other

general, who was still there waiting, said he

couldn't help in the investigation.

'Checkmate,' Professor Feldman said, after eight

moves.

'Are you sure?' said the foreign minister, leaning

closer to inspect the board.Feldman was about to

reply when the young secretary came over and

tapped him on the shoulder.

'Professor Feldman?'

'Yes?'

'Would you like to go in?Mr Borges will see you

now.'

The young secretary went back to his seat.The

professor looked around at the others, aghast.They

were glaring at him with that special contempt

reserved by the envious for the undeserving.The

remaining general sneered openly at him and

glanced meaningfully down at the patchwork of

ribbons that covered one side of his chest.The

professor gathered up his papers in total silence

and gave his lunchbox and magazines to the

policeman.He pulled his tie straight and walked as

steadily as he could to the door, still wondering

why he had been summoned before people who

had been waiting much longer than he had.

Cesare Borges straightened his tie, put the edition

of National Geographic away, and emptied the

small box containing the names of the rest of the

people sitting in the outer-outer office into the

waste-bin.Professor Feldman's slip of paper was

marking Cesare's place in the magazine.

'Well?' he said when Professor Feldman walked

into the room.Cesare motioned him to sit in a seat

in front of the massive desk.Feldman sat down and

cleared his throat.He took some papers and spread

them deferentially on Cesare's desk.

'Well, sir, these are some of the projects we've

been working on in this, the first phase of what I

like to call -'

'What's this?' snorted Cesare, holding up a piece of

paper with a drawing on it.

'That?That's ah that's a new design of mud-press

for constructing bricks in a low-technology

situation.'

Cesare looked at him.He picked up another bit of

paper.

'And this?'

'That's a section through a new, low-cost, long-life

toilet we've designed for when water is at a

premium.'

'You've spent two million of the firm's money

designing a john ?' Cesare said huskily.

'Well, sir, it's very important.It's just one

component in a whole system of low-cost, high-use

interdependent facilities which have been designed

to be of facility in the Third World.Of course, the

development costs will probably be recouped in

production, though it was agreed that it would be

very good for the overall image of the company

and the associated universities if there was no

actual profit component included in the eventual

selling price.'

'It was?' said Cesare.

The professor coughed nervously. 'So I believe,

sir.That was at the last shareholders' meeting.The

grant for the project as a whole dates from then,

although the preliminary viability study was first -'

'Just a minute,' Cesare said, holding up one hand

and putting the other to the buzzing intercom. 'Yes?'

'Call on line two, sir.'

Cesare picked up the phone.Feldman sat back and

wondered what was going to happen.Cesare said,

'Are you sure? And this could definitely be used?

This had better be right.OK.Hold everything; I'm

coming out there.' He put down the phone and hit a

button on the intercom set. 'Get the helicopter and

have the jet ready.'

'Ah Mr Borges -' Professor Feldman began as

Cesare opened a drawer in his desk and took out a

travelling bag.Cesare held up one hand.

'Not now, doc; I got to move.Just wait in the outer-

outer office until I send for you.I won't be long.So

long.'

With that he was gone, into his private elevator

and on up to the roof to his private helicopter

which would fly him to an I.M.C.C. airstrip where

his private jet would be waiting.The young

secretary came into the office and ushered

Professor Feldman and his papers back out into the

outer-outer office, where nobody talked to him and

the foreign minister and the Police Chief were

playing chequers on his chess board.



'Black Holes!' Matriapoll said loudly.

'What's wrong, Matty?' said Oney.The three of

them were watching a complicated array of lights

and screens in the control cabin.The system and

surrounding space was shown diagrammatically,

and a little red light had just appeared next to the

third planet, counting out from the star.

'I'll tell you what's wrong,' said Matriapoll,

clicking his brows with annoyance. 'That