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Ceramic Dm (final judgement posted, New Champion announced!)
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<blockquote data-quote="Fieari" data-source="post: 1628299" data-attributes="member: 16221"><p>"Patterns, sir. It's all about patterns, and engineering of course. Science isn't anything beyond the reach of you, or any person on the street. It just takes time, and an ability to notice pattern."</p><p></p><p>"Of course, if you can't notice patterns, there are schools that can help you, right?"</p><p></p><p>"Of course sir."</p><p></p><p>Truce looked around the room, trying to figure out what the most impressive thing he could show his sponcer would be. Science was easy, getting someone to pay for it was hard. Just three months ago, he had secured a grant from a government agency though, and now they were sending men to make sure he was finding things. The problem was, his research <em>wasn't</em> flashy.</p><p></p><p>That is to say, it involved no pretty pictures of distant stars you could put in magazines and make people say "How amazing! How pretty!" There were no fractal graphs. Nothing had blown up! There was a machine, and yes, the machine was built on three whole acres of land, but there were some particle accelerators that were larger by far! No, it wasn't flashy. And there had been no results yet.</p><p></p><p>But it was interesting. He just had to convey that interest to the person paying his bills... keeping his son housed, in school, and well fed. No mother, unfortunately. Being a widower was hard, but the research was enough to keep his mind occupied.</p><p></p><p>He was studying a... a ripple. The scientific journals occasionally had articles about them, but few studied the things. They didn't do much... they were just there. The machine here had been built on top of this ripple though, completely by accident, which made it unusable for more standard quantum research, but absolutely perfect for his own.</p><p></p><p>Truce decided on the output processing computer. It showed graphs and reports that could be filled with various colors.</p><p></p><p>"If you'll look this way sir... you can see todays data coming in. Right now, we're just recording the polarity of the atoms we're pushing through the ripple."</p><p></p><p>"What does that mean?"</p><p></p><p>"Well, you've heard that quantum mechanics is extremely precise? That was can calculate things to thousands of decimal places? Well we can. Except, not for any specific atom. We can predict probability. If we send seven trillion atoms through the pipe, we can predict how many will do one thing, and how many will do another. But not which will do what. Just how many.</p><p></p><p>Here sir. These are the numbers for a standard run, anywhere else in the world.</p><p></p><p>These are the numbers for our ripple."</p><p></p><p>"They don't look anything alike, I notice."</p><p></p><p>"Good eye for patterns sir! You'd make a wonderful scientist. Of course, the reason you are paying me, is that not only have I noticed the numbers are different, I've noticed that the numbers here don't match any model at all. Not any theoretically possible model, if you consider that the model doesn't change. I call this a volatile system... a system that changes. We haven't been able to find out what changes the system, that's why we're collecting data."</p><p></p><p>"Very good! Very good. Good to hear it. Do you have any idea when you'll actually discover what changes things here?"</p><p></p><p>"No sir. Could be next month, could be ten years from now. But as long as your organization... or any organization, will foot the bill, we'll keep trying."</p><p></p><p>"Well, see that you don't go elsewhere. We'll keep you on the payroll a while longer it seems."</p><p></p><p>"Thank you sir."</p><p></p><p>The man in the business suit stood, shook hands with Truce, and walked out the door. Truce loosened his tie. He really wasn't comfortable in these fancy clothes. It wasn't long before he had ditched the shoes as well, and unbuttoned the top few buttons, with a sigh of relief.</p><p></p><p>There were two lab assistants, one who made sure the computers didn't break down, and the other who maintained the machine... not that it needed much help. With the government paying, the structure had been decked out with all the latest technology, and part of that included a self repairing function. The three of them were the only ones working on the project, which meant that nearly all of the incoming money could be siphoned into equipment. There was little left over.</p><p></p><p>So when the computer made beeping noises, only he and the computer technician were there to take a look. Phil, the machinist, was drinking coffee and lounging in a chair across the room. The computer wasn't complaining about an error though, it was pointing out that it had discovered a pattern... if only briefly.</p><p></p><p>===========================================</p><p></p><p>Over the next few weeks, when the pattern was reproducible on command to certain specific stimulants, real progress was made. For one thing, it was hard to call the ripple a ripple anymore. It was now what appeared to be a localized black hole. A <em>massless</em> localized black hole. Particles could be shot around it, but entering into it meant they never came back. The hole never evidenced any further energy returning. It was as if the laws of thermodynamics were just going to be ignored here, and energy was destroyed. Nothing did that. Which meant that this... this thing, had to be a gateway. A portal of some sort. And each time the experiment was repeated, it got larger. Exponentially larger. Soon, it would be large enough to toss a rock into it, instead of just atoms and such. Any larger, and at the rate of growth, it would quickly expand to engulf the entire city or more.</p><p></p><p>"You will send something through." The business man was telling Truce, over the phone after receiving the last report.</p><p></p><p>"Such as?" Truce retorted, although politely, to the man footing the bills. It paid, quite literally, to be diplomatic. "Nothing comes out of it, not even gravity. What would be the point?"</p><p></p><p>"Just send something, anything through."</p><p></p><p>Truce sighed. And he set up the next experiment. Operation: Rock Throw. The results were as expected. Nothing returned from the black thing. Nothing at all.</p><p></p><p>============================================</p><p></p><p>"Let me get this straight. You have new technology that will let us... do anything we want?"</p><p></p><p>Allow me to set the new scene. It is a relatively clean alleyway filled with people in vaguely ethnic garb. They speak with funny accents. They are dirty, but they command great respect and perhaps just a little bit of fear from the well dressed man speaking to them, offering them their wildest dreams come true.</p><p></p><p>"Yes." is the simple reply. </p><p></p><p>The ethnic man scowls, and spreads his arms out. (<a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=14824" target="_blank">Picture</a>) "Do you take us for fools? And you're asking for how much?"</p><p></p><p>"3.2 billion."</p><p></p><p>"And you expect us to believe your fantastical claims without the merest demonstration?" The vaguely ethnic people are now beginning to loom, somewhat threateningly. Which was the entire point of having them along.</p><p></p><p>"No. I offer you a demonstration. A free sample, if you wish." And he pulled out a small, vaguely ethnic looking lamp. It wouldn't have been out of place in Arabian Nights, but it certainly was out of place coming from the inner coat pocket of a three piece suit. He rubbed it. The onlookers laughed for a moment. The laughing quickly faded.</p><p></p><p>============================================</p><p></p><p>"You want WHAT?" This time, diplomacy wasn't on Truce's mind. His employer was now simply asking for the impossible.</p><p></p><p>"Truce, you have to do this for me. We need to have the hole, or what ever it is, made mobile, and it has to be done immediately."</p><p></p><p>"Look, I don't think it's even possible. For everything I've seen about this anomaly, this hole, it doesn't move. At all. It can grow, but it's center remains fixed. It has always remained fixed as far as I can tell!"</p><p></p><p>"It must be done now." The phone went click. Truce swore forcefully, and with conviction. This wasn't possible. Why the unreasonable demand all of a sudden, out of the blue? He growled, and to take his mind off of things, turned on the small television the techs kept in the break room. He could use a few moments of not having to think. The blastedness of it all.</p><p></p><p>---------</p><p></p><p>"The confirmed death toll around Hawaii and California continues to mount even now as the reports continue to come in, and estimations suggest that the numbers may now be in excess of seven hundred and fifty. We go now live to the shoreline. Jim?"</p><p></p><p>The television switched from the somewhat attractive female anchor woman to scene which suggested that of a hurricane at Niagara falls. Wind was roaring fiercely, water poured through the air, but clouds were not in evidence. An ocean of water poured over what appeared to be a massive cliff. The camera pulled back slightly, and two oceans of water are shown to pour into what must be the worlds most massive canyon. A veritable parting of the red sea, as seen from the sea's surface. The reporter then comes into focus, and begins to shout above the rushing winds about the damage in California this had been causing already, especially to shipping lines. Robot rescue teams would be sent in to help further survivors at the bottom of the crevasse, and helicopters were being dispatched to pick up those trapped in boats that had fortunately been stranded on the rocks. Scenes of both the rescue robots and the stranded ships are displayed. (<a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=14827" target="_blank">Picture</a> <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=14825" target="_blank">Picture</a>)</p><p></p><p>---------</p><p></p><p>The logo on the rescue bots looked familiar to Truce. He phoned back his employer immediately. "Does your need to have this... this hole made portable have anything to do with the disaster striking California right now?" he demanded. "I see your company is helping out with the rescue operations."</p><p></p><p>There was a considerable pause before Truce's employer gave any kind of a reply.</p><p></p><p>"This isn't a natural disaster." he finally admitted.</p><p></p><p>"What are you talking about?"</p><p></p><p>"The government recently contacted us about the use of our robotics department due to this event. But the purpose isn't for rescue. It seems that this is a terrorist attack with some kind of new weapon an arms dealer came about. The information is sketchy, but it is believed that the weapon must be destroyed in order to stop the disasters. The government hoped our robots could do it. The media picked up on their deployment, and we've made a good cover story about them being used to rescue those who are almost certainly dead already. Fortunately, we haven't had to cover up the fact that every single one of the robots sent to the location of the terrorists has been utterly annihilated. But that hole of yours should be able to stop this weapon. We need it movable, and we need it movable now."</p><p></p><p>"I'm sorry, but it just can't be done. It isn't the sort of thing that <i>can</i> be moved!"</p><p></p><p>"Find a way, Truce. Find it now. The military has been powerless. We need something new, and you have that."</p><p></p><p>============================================</p><p></p><p>The disaster continued on for days, the sea being split open and pouring into a crevice leading straight to the center of the earth for all anyone could tell. The weather this sprouted, and the effects on currents, and the winds, and the earthquakes, it was all causing untold millions in damages, and more and more people were dying. And Truce was continually badgered to make the hole move. But nothing would make it budge. Nothing at all. The particle accelerator had even been deconstructed around the anomaly, in order to gain a more physical grasp on it, but the fact remained that anything crossing the event horizon STAYED crossed, and nothing moved it even a micrometer.</p><p></p><p>But something new was discovered.</p><p></p><p>While testing the effects of magnetic fields on the thing, Truce found that the things that went into the hole were not destroyed after all. They were merely moved, instantaneously, somewhere else. Pushing a steel rod through the hole while under super strong magnetic forces caused the other end of the rod appear fifty feet away, sheered off cleanly at the point the rod stopped entering the hole. He had intended to test whether or not the magnetic influence would cause the hole to solidify. But this was something else entirely.</p><p></p><p>"I still can't move it sir, but I may have something better. We can move anything we need to anywhere we want, as long as the thing is small enough."</p><p></p><p>"Is that so? It may just have to do. How much can you move?"</p><p></p><p>"Very little. But I'm sure that I can direct it anywhere we could need to put something."</p><p></p><p>"We're sending you a package and some coordinates."</p><p></p><p>============================================</p><p></p><p>The "package" turned out to be a small white hollow sphere and a number of spare parts, which happened to include plutonium. The worlds smallest atomic bomb had been shipped to Truce by FedEx, in a convenient Build-it At Home kit. Shaking slightly from the sheer weight of the responsibility, he did what anyone would do in that situation. He delegated. Giving the kit to one of the techs to assemble (<a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=14826" target="_blank">Picture</a>), Truce began to perform the calculations of exactly how strong the magnet must be in order to place the package exactly where it was needed to go.</p><p></p><p>The news droned on in the background, bringing up something about a new development. Truce didn't want to hear about it. He had his job to do. This action right here might very well be able to put an end to the suffering, right now.</p><p></p><p>Soon, although after what felt like ages, the bomb was assembled and the magnetic math was completed. All that was necessary would be to arm the device, and toss it through the hole. It seemed like such an anticlimactic thing to do. He couldn't even remember the appropriate poetic quote for moments like these. He ended up with something simple. "Ah, screw it." and dropped the bomb into the hole.</p><p></p><p>The news would pick up the explosion soon. It would be visible from Los Angeles. Sure enough, it was. Sure enough, the terrorists were instantly vaporized by the explosion, and the weapon was disabled. The sea returned to normal, and all was soon calm once more. Truce turned off the television. Sighed to himself, and went home to go to bed. He hadn't had nearly enough sleep in such a long, long time.</p><p></p><p>============================================</p><p></p><p>"Well Mr. President..." Truce's employer began.</p><p></p><p>"It seems they might not have been terrorists after all.</p><p></p><p>"Oh, they were killing hundreds, thousands, yes. But as far as we can tell, they didn't intend to. They just came across a little bit more power than they knew what to do with. Quite a bit more power, to put it frankly, and yet, somehow, not enough in the end.</p><p></p><p>"It seems that they just wanted to understand women. A reasonable request, you might think.</p><p></p><p>"We've recovered the lamp. It hasn't been touched. Our analysts have been working hard translating the strange script engraved on the outside. We believe it to be the last thing the Genie, or Efreet, or whatever it was, had said." He slipped a piece of paper across the desk of the Oval Office.</p><p></p><p>The President sat and stared at it for the longest time. Finally, a smile cracked on his face. And then he began to chuckle, and escalated into a full belly laugh. The kind of horrible, desperate laugh you make when you finally get the joke, but know it wasn't funny anyway.</p><p></p><p>"Yes Mr President. We... uh... felt kindof the same way. At least it's over now. As a matter of fact, it's a pity we blew it up before it had time to finish.</p><p></p><p>"No, I don't know what we're going to do with a 4 lane expressway bridge between California and Hawaii that's only three quarters finished either. Perhaps find some engineers worthy of finishing it?"</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Fieari, post: 1628299, member: 16221"] "Patterns, sir. It's all about patterns, and engineering of course. Science isn't anything beyond the reach of you, or any person on the street. It just takes time, and an ability to notice pattern." "Of course, if you can't notice patterns, there are schools that can help you, right?" "Of course sir." Truce looked around the room, trying to figure out what the most impressive thing he could show his sponcer would be. Science was easy, getting someone to pay for it was hard. Just three months ago, he had secured a grant from a government agency though, and now they were sending men to make sure he was finding things. The problem was, his research [i]wasn't[/i] flashy. That is to say, it involved no pretty pictures of distant stars you could put in magazines and make people say "How amazing! How pretty!" There were no fractal graphs. Nothing had blown up! There was a machine, and yes, the machine was built on three whole acres of land, but there were some particle accelerators that were larger by far! No, it wasn't flashy. And there had been no results yet. But it was interesting. He just had to convey that interest to the person paying his bills... keeping his son housed, in school, and well fed. No mother, unfortunately. Being a widower was hard, but the research was enough to keep his mind occupied. He was studying a... a ripple. The scientific journals occasionally had articles about them, but few studied the things. They didn't do much... they were just there. The machine here had been built on top of this ripple though, completely by accident, which made it unusable for more standard quantum research, but absolutely perfect for his own. Truce decided on the output processing computer. It showed graphs and reports that could be filled with various colors. "If you'll look this way sir... you can see todays data coming in. Right now, we're just recording the polarity of the atoms we're pushing through the ripple." "What does that mean?" "Well, you've heard that quantum mechanics is extremely precise? That was can calculate things to thousands of decimal places? Well we can. Except, not for any specific atom. We can predict probability. If we send seven trillion atoms through the pipe, we can predict how many will do one thing, and how many will do another. But not which will do what. Just how many. Here sir. These are the numbers for a standard run, anywhere else in the world. These are the numbers for our ripple." "They don't look anything alike, I notice." "Good eye for patterns sir! You'd make a wonderful scientist. Of course, the reason you are paying me, is that not only have I noticed the numbers are different, I've noticed that the numbers here don't match any model at all. Not any theoretically possible model, if you consider that the model doesn't change. I call this a volatile system... a system that changes. We haven't been able to find out what changes the system, that's why we're collecting data." "Very good! Very good. Good to hear it. Do you have any idea when you'll actually discover what changes things here?" "No sir. Could be next month, could be ten years from now. But as long as your organization... or any organization, will foot the bill, we'll keep trying." "Well, see that you don't go elsewhere. We'll keep you on the payroll a while longer it seems." "Thank you sir." The man in the business suit stood, shook hands with Truce, and walked out the door. Truce loosened his tie. He really wasn't comfortable in these fancy clothes. It wasn't long before he had ditched the shoes as well, and unbuttoned the top few buttons, with a sigh of relief. There were two lab assistants, one who made sure the computers didn't break down, and the other who maintained the machine... not that it needed much help. With the government paying, the structure had been decked out with all the latest technology, and part of that included a self repairing function. The three of them were the only ones working on the project, which meant that nearly all of the incoming money could be siphoned into equipment. There was little left over. So when the computer made beeping noises, only he and the computer technician were there to take a look. Phil, the machinist, was drinking coffee and lounging in a chair across the room. The computer wasn't complaining about an error though, it was pointing out that it had discovered a pattern... if only briefly. =========================================== Over the next few weeks, when the pattern was reproducible on command to certain specific stimulants, real progress was made. For one thing, it was hard to call the ripple a ripple anymore. It was now what appeared to be a localized black hole. A [i]massless[/i] localized black hole. Particles could be shot around it, but entering into it meant they never came back. The hole never evidenced any further energy returning. It was as if the laws of thermodynamics were just going to be ignored here, and energy was destroyed. Nothing did that. Which meant that this... this thing, had to be a gateway. A portal of some sort. And each time the experiment was repeated, it got larger. Exponentially larger. Soon, it would be large enough to toss a rock into it, instead of just atoms and such. Any larger, and at the rate of growth, it would quickly expand to engulf the entire city or more. "You will send something through." The business man was telling Truce, over the phone after receiving the last report. "Such as?" Truce retorted, although politely, to the man footing the bills. It paid, quite literally, to be diplomatic. "Nothing comes out of it, not even gravity. What would be the point?" "Just send something, anything through." Truce sighed. And he set up the next experiment. Operation: Rock Throw. The results were as expected. Nothing returned from the black thing. Nothing at all. ============================================ "Let me get this straight. You have new technology that will let us... do anything we want?" Allow me to set the new scene. It is a relatively clean alleyway filled with people in vaguely ethnic garb. They speak with funny accents. They are dirty, but they command great respect and perhaps just a little bit of fear from the well dressed man speaking to them, offering them their wildest dreams come true. "Yes." is the simple reply. The ethnic man scowls, and spreads his arms out. ([url=http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=14824]Picture[/url]) "Do you take us for fools? And you're asking for how much?" "3.2 billion." "And you expect us to believe your fantastical claims without the merest demonstration?" The vaguely ethnic people are now beginning to loom, somewhat threateningly. Which was the entire point of having them along. "No. I offer you a demonstration. A free sample, if you wish." And he pulled out a small, vaguely ethnic looking lamp. It wouldn't have been out of place in Arabian Nights, but it certainly was out of place coming from the inner coat pocket of a three piece suit. He rubbed it. The onlookers laughed for a moment. The laughing quickly faded. ============================================ "You want WHAT?" This time, diplomacy wasn't on Truce's mind. His employer was now simply asking for the impossible. "Truce, you have to do this for me. We need to have the hole, or what ever it is, made mobile, and it has to be done immediately." "Look, I don't think it's even possible. For everything I've seen about this anomaly, this hole, it doesn't move. At all. It can grow, but it's center remains fixed. It has always remained fixed as far as I can tell!" "It must be done now." The phone went click. Truce swore forcefully, and with conviction. This wasn't possible. Why the unreasonable demand all of a sudden, out of the blue? He growled, and to take his mind off of things, turned on the small television the techs kept in the break room. He could use a few moments of not having to think. The blastedness of it all. --------- "The confirmed death toll around Hawaii and California continues to mount even now as the reports continue to come in, and estimations suggest that the numbers may now be in excess of seven hundred and fifty. We go now live to the shoreline. Jim?" The television switched from the somewhat attractive female anchor woman to scene which suggested that of a hurricane at Niagara falls. Wind was roaring fiercely, water poured through the air, but clouds were not in evidence. An ocean of water poured over what appeared to be a massive cliff. The camera pulled back slightly, and two oceans of water are shown to pour into what must be the worlds most massive canyon. A veritable parting of the red sea, as seen from the sea's surface. The reporter then comes into focus, and begins to shout above the rushing winds about the damage in California this had been causing already, especially to shipping lines. Robot rescue teams would be sent in to help further survivors at the bottom of the crevasse, and helicopters were being dispatched to pick up those trapped in boats that had fortunately been stranded on the rocks. Scenes of both the rescue robots and the stranded ships are displayed. ([url=http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=14827]Picture[/url] [url=http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=14825]Picture[/url]) --------- The logo on the rescue bots looked familiar to Truce. He phoned back his employer immediately. "Does your need to have this... this hole made portable have anything to do with the disaster striking California right now?" he demanded. "I see your company is helping out with the rescue operations." There was a considerable pause before Truce's employer gave any kind of a reply. "This isn't a natural disaster." he finally admitted. "What are you talking about?" "The government recently contacted us about the use of our robotics department due to this event. But the purpose isn't for rescue. It seems that this is a terrorist attack with some kind of new weapon an arms dealer came about. The information is sketchy, but it is believed that the weapon must be destroyed in order to stop the disasters. The government hoped our robots could do it. The media picked up on their deployment, and we've made a good cover story about them being used to rescue those who are almost certainly dead already. Fortunately, we haven't had to cover up the fact that every single one of the robots sent to the location of the terrorists has been utterly annihilated. But that hole of yours should be able to stop this weapon. We need it movable, and we need it movable now." "I'm sorry, but it just can't be done. It isn't the sort of thing that <i>can</i> be moved!" "Find a way, Truce. Find it now. The military has been powerless. We need something new, and you have that." ============================================ The disaster continued on for days, the sea being split open and pouring into a crevice leading straight to the center of the earth for all anyone could tell. The weather this sprouted, and the effects on currents, and the winds, and the earthquakes, it was all causing untold millions in damages, and more and more people were dying. And Truce was continually badgered to make the hole move. But nothing would make it budge. Nothing at all. The particle accelerator had even been deconstructed around the anomaly, in order to gain a more physical grasp on it, but the fact remained that anything crossing the event horizon STAYED crossed, and nothing moved it even a micrometer. But something new was discovered. While testing the effects of magnetic fields on the thing, Truce found that the things that went into the hole were not destroyed after all. They were merely moved, instantaneously, somewhere else. Pushing a steel rod through the hole while under super strong magnetic forces caused the other end of the rod appear fifty feet away, sheered off cleanly at the point the rod stopped entering the hole. He had intended to test whether or not the magnetic influence would cause the hole to solidify. But this was something else entirely. "I still can't move it sir, but I may have something better. We can move anything we need to anywhere we want, as long as the thing is small enough." "Is that so? It may just have to do. How much can you move?" "Very little. But I'm sure that I can direct it anywhere we could need to put something." "We're sending you a package and some coordinates." ============================================ The "package" turned out to be a small white hollow sphere and a number of spare parts, which happened to include plutonium. The worlds smallest atomic bomb had been shipped to Truce by FedEx, in a convenient Build-it At Home kit. Shaking slightly from the sheer weight of the responsibility, he did what anyone would do in that situation. He delegated. Giving the kit to one of the techs to assemble ([url=http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=14826]Picture[/url]), Truce began to perform the calculations of exactly how strong the magnet must be in order to place the package exactly where it was needed to go. The news droned on in the background, bringing up something about a new development. Truce didn't want to hear about it. He had his job to do. This action right here might very well be able to put an end to the suffering, right now. Soon, although after what felt like ages, the bomb was assembled and the magnetic math was completed. All that was necessary would be to arm the device, and toss it through the hole. It seemed like such an anticlimactic thing to do. He couldn't even remember the appropriate poetic quote for moments like these. He ended up with something simple. "Ah, screw it." and dropped the bomb into the hole. The news would pick up the explosion soon. It would be visible from Los Angeles. Sure enough, it was. Sure enough, the terrorists were instantly vaporized by the explosion, and the weapon was disabled. The sea returned to normal, and all was soon calm once more. Truce turned off the television. Sighed to himself, and went home to go to bed. He hadn't had nearly enough sleep in such a long, long time. ============================================ "Well Mr. President..." Truce's employer began. "It seems they might not have been terrorists after all. "Oh, they were killing hundreds, thousands, yes. But as far as we can tell, they didn't intend to. They just came across a little bit more power than they knew what to do with. Quite a bit more power, to put it frankly, and yet, somehow, not enough in the end. "It seems that they just wanted to understand women. A reasonable request, you might think. "We've recovered the lamp. It hasn't been touched. Our analysts have been working hard translating the strange script engraved on the outside. We believe it to be the last thing the Genie, or Efreet, or whatever it was, had said." He slipped a piece of paper across the desk of the Oval Office. The President sat and stared at it for the longest time. Finally, a smile cracked on his face. And then he began to chuckle, and escalated into a full belly laugh. The kind of horrible, desperate laugh you make when you finally get the joke, but know it wasn't funny anyway. "Yes Mr President. We... uh... felt kindof the same way. At least it's over now. As a matter of fact, it's a pity we blew it up before it had time to finish. "No, I don't know what we're going to do with a 4 lane expressway bridge between California and Hawaii that's only three quarters finished either. Perhaps find some engineers worthy of finishing it?" [/QUOTE]
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