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The State of the Art(36)

By:Iain M. Banks


back on-planet, to Berlin, when the ship wanted to

talk to me again.Things were going on as usual; the

Arbitrary spent its time making detailed maps of

everything within sight and without, dodging

American and Soviet satellites and manufacturing

and then sending down to the planet hundreds upon

thousands of bugs to watch printing works and

magazine stalls and libraries, to scan museums,

workshops, studios and shops, to look into

windows, gardens and forests, and to track buses,

trains, cars, seaships and planes.Meanwhile its

effectors, and those on its main satellites, probed

every computer, monitored every landline, tapped

every microwave link, and listened to every radio

transmission on Earth.

All Contact craft are natural raiders.They're made

to love to be busy, to enjoy sticking their big noses

into other people's business, and the Arbitrary, for all its eccentricities, was no different.I doubt if it

was, or is, ever happier than when doing that

vacuum-cleaner act above a sophisticated

planet.By the time we were ready to leave the ship

would have contained in its memory - and would

have onward-transmitted to other vessels - every

bit of data ever stored in the history of the planet

that hadn't been subsequently obliterated.Every 1

and 0, every letter, every pixel, every sound, every

subtlety of line and texture ever fashioned.It would

know where every mineral deposit was buried,

where all the treasure as yet undiscovered lay,

where every sunken ship was, where every secret

grave had been dug; and it would know the secrets

of the Pentagon, the Kremlin, the Vatican

On Earth, of course, they were quite oblivious to

the fact they had a million tonnes of highly

inquisitive and outrageously powerful alien

spaceship orbiting around them, and - sure enough

- the locals were doing all the things they normally did; murdering and starving and dying and maiming

and torturing and lying and so on.Pretty much

business as usual in fact, and it bothered the hell

out of me, but I was still hoping we'd decide to

interfere and stop most of that shit.It was about this

time two Boeing 747s collided on the ground in a

Spanish island colony.

I was reading Lear for the second time, sitting

underneath a full-size palm tree.The ship had found

the tree in the Dominican Republic, marked to be

bulldozed to make way for a new hotel.Thinking it

might be nice to have some plants about the place,

the Arbitrary dug the palm up one night and

brought it aboard, complete with its root system

and several tens of cubic metres of sandy soil, and

planted it in the centre of our accommodation

section.This required quite a lot of rearranging,





and a few people who'd happened to be asleep

while all this was going on woke to be confronted

with a twenty-metre high tree when they opened

their cabin doors, rising up in what had become a

great central well in the acc section.Contact people

are used to putting up with this sort of thing from

their ships, however, and so everybody took it in

their stride.Anyway, on any sensible calibrated

scale of GCU eccentricity, such a harmless, even

benign prank would scarcely register.

I was sitting within sight of the door to Li'ndane's

cabin.He came out, chatting to Tel Ghemada.Li

was flicking Brazil nuts into the air and running

forward or bending over backwards to catch them

with his mouth, while trying to carry on his side of

the conversation.Tel was amused.Li flicked one

nut particularly far and had to dive and twist under

its trajectory, crashing into the floor and sliding

into the stool I had my feet up on (and yes, I do

always loaf a lot onboard ships; no idea why).Li

rolled over on his back, making a show of looking

around him for the Brazil nut.He looked

mystified.Tel shook her head, smiling, then waved

goodbye.She was one of the unfortunates trying to

get some sort of human grasp of Earth's economics,

and deserved all the light relief she could get.I

recall that all through that year you could tell the

economists by their distraught look and slightly

glazed-looking eyes.Li well, Li was just a wierdo,

and forever conducting a running battle with the

finer sensibilities of the ship.

'Thank you, Li,' I said, putting my feet back on the

upended stool.Li lay breathing heavily on the floor

and looking up at me, then his lips parted in a grin

to reveal the nut caught between his teeth.He

swallowed, stood, pulled his pants half-way down,

and proceeded to relieve himself against the trunk

of the tree.

'Good for the growth,' he said when he saw me

frowning at him.'

'Won't be any good for your growth if the ship

catches you and sends a knife missile to sort you

out.'

'I can see what Mr 'ndane is doing and I wasn't

going to dignify his actions with as much as a