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Authors: Craig Gaydas

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BOOK: The Cartographer
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She reached into a pack strapped to her waist and produced a thick, square piece of cloth that looked like a sponge. She placed it on my head and the pain vanished, replaced by a cool, numbing sensation. When she removed it, I touched the spot on my head and the lump was no longer there.

“Wow, thanks,” I marveled.

“Sorry for the surprise attack, but we never expected you to do what you did.” A smile played at the corner of her lips.

“Well, he said he would have killed me if I had the map,” I grumbled. “I expected the knuckles to do more damage than they did, though.”

“You're a fool, Nathan,” interrupted Kedge. “I misjudged you and should have killed you the first time we met.”

“Shut up!” Lianne roared. “Don't make me knock you upside your head.”

Kedge's eyes flared with anger. “Take this contraption off me, and we'll see how good you really are,” he sneered.

Lianne's finger hovered over the trigger. I grabbed her arm.

“No, he may provide valuable information on our enemies,” I pleaded.

“I will provide nothing to the Consortium,” he spat. “Especially to
you
, traitor!”

“You keep calling me a traitor,” I said. “
You
wanted me to be a traitor. I am no traitor.”

“In his eyes you are,” a familiar voice said behind me.

I turned around and Satou stood with his arms folded, admiring the scene before him. He glared at Kedge and it seemed like they engaged in some macabre staring contest with neither backing down.

“That is correct,” Satou continued. “You are a traitor to the human race. At least in his twisted view of the universe, that is. By not aiding him, you have turned your back on your roots. Am I correct in my assumption, Kedge?”

Kedge struggled mightily against the weighted net and managed to get to one knee. I took a step back and Lianne clocked him on the side of the head with the gun. He fell to the ground with a moan.

“Now,” she muttered. “You just sit there and be a good boy.”

“What are you going to do with him?” I asked.

Satou bent over and picked up the staff. “Lianne is going to bring him to our ship and place him in a holding cell until we decide what we are going to do with him.”

He turned and tossed me a smile. “As for us, we are going to head back and talk to Calypso. It appears he has another mission for us.”

An ominous smile split Kedge's face and giggled. The sinister aspect of that laugh made me cringe.

“What's so funny?” I asked.

“Oh, you'll see,” he breathed. “You are going to regret you decision,
Cartographer
.” He spat the word. “There was a chance I could have saved you, but now it's too late.”

Through The Looking Glass

I
could have saved you, but now it's too late.

During the return trip, his words haunted me. They didn't fade until I entered my room aboard the Cirrus. Gard stationed himself in the corner while I stepped in front of the bathroom mirror and washed the Xajax dirt and grime off my face. I dried myself and flicked knotted strands of hair from my eyes. A single light-colored hair, buried among the black strands draped itself across my forehead. I plucked it and frowned at it.

“A gray hair,” I mused. “Great.”

A knock at the door startled me and I dropped the hair in the sink. Kedge's words returned and I wondered if an assassin lay beyond the door as I eyed it suspiciously. I remembered the digital viewport and switched it on in time to catch Lianne picking at a fingernail and tapping her foot impatiently.

I opened the door and smirked. “Come in.”

She strolled in, took a seat at my desk and focused her eyes on me. The feline grace with which she moved amazed me as much as it did the first time I laid eyes on her. Her intense gaze caused me to shuffle my feet nervously. I briefly wondered if looks could indeed kill, because if so I was about to be murdered. We sat so close that I noticed faint brown stripes slashing their way across her face, like tiger stripes. She blinked vertically and I had to lower my gaze before I freaked out.

“Are you feeling OK?” she asked.

I nodded. Words had escaped me for the moment.

“Good,” she purred. “Calypso is busy at the moment so I decided to come down here and discuss the next mission.”

“So I guess this isn't your average exploration mission?” I asked, motioning toward her Defense Fleet insignia—a pouncing jaguar surrounded by a lightning bolt.

“Normally we wouldn't need the Explorer's League for this, but we need the map and Calypso insisted his group be involved.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Whatever Kedge told you seemed to bother Calypso,” she replied. “He seems
conflicted
on the matter. He realizes Kedge's intentions are noble but does not trust the Lumagom.” Lianne stood up, towered over Gard and crossed her hands behind her back.

“OK, so what is the next mission?”

“You proved your worth on the battlefield, Nathan,” she said but did not take her eyes off Gard. “No one argues that it was foolish for you to attack Kedge directly, but we do not doubt your heart. We also do not doubt where your loyalties lie.”

“Oh really? Where does it lie?”

She narrowed her eyes. “It lies with the Consortium, does it not? You seem to remain true to the core principles of our organization.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I blustered and she smiled. It was warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the ferocity she displayed on the battlefield.

“You will make a fine Cartographer.” She sat down and wiped a spot of mud off her boot. “I think you would have made a fine soldier in the Defense Fleet as well.”

“Yeah, I would have been an awesome soldier,” I scoffed. “All one hundred and ten pounds of me.”

After an uncomfortable moment of silence passed between us, her smile faded and she looked round apprehensively. She stood up, flipped on the digital viewport and scanned the hallway. Confident that no one lurked outside, she turned it off.

“Before I brief you on our next mission, something has been bothering me,” she said and turned toward me. “Rumor is there is a traitor among the Council of Five.”

I rubbed my hands together and attempted to respond several time but eventually gave up. There were no words to rebut what she said so I instead focused my thoughts on the Council members.
Who could be the traitor?
The only person I could think of was Kale. He had been almost too eager to send me to Kedge, alone and unarmed. His disdain for me was obvious.

“Judging by your face you seem to have something to say,” she prodded and placed a comforting hand over mine. “I am your friend Nathan. You have earned my respect.”

I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Kale.” My voice was barely a whisper.

Her eyes locked on mine and her eyebrow lifted slightly which caused her whiskers to tickle her cheeks. “What makes you say that?”

“His attitude toward me,” I replied. “He wanted to send me down to the planet, unarmed and alone. But there was something else…something he said.”

“What did he say?” Lianne leaned forward, ready to devour the juicy morsel I was about to toss her.

“He told me he was no fan of my race.” I rubbed my temples, trying to recall the moment I first met Kale. “At first I thought he just didn't like me, but he said `my race'.”

“I don't understand.”

I herded the elephant into the room and now I needed to acknowledge it, feed it and send it on its way. “Ever since the day Satou brought me aboard the Cirrus, I haven't seen another human yet there are other races all over this ship. Why is that?”

“That's a good question, but unfortunately I don't have the answer.”

I chewed on my lower lip, deep in thought. “I know who might have the answer.”

We both turned toward Gard. The ancient robot and faithful servant of the Cartographer for generations. If anyone would have the answers it would be him.


I could not help but notice you looking at me
,” Gard stated. “
I assume you are referring to me
?”

“Yes, Gard,” I replied. “Can you tell us why there are no humans on board?”

Several clicks and a ping squealed from the back of his mechanical brain, like a cash register opening. “
Because they are not part of the crew
.”

I rubbed my temples in frustration. His ability to take each question at its root literal meaning drove me crazy.

Taking a more direct approach, I asked, “Gard, are there any humans in the Consortium.”

A long pause. No clicks, buzz or tweets of any kind, only silence.

“Are you able to answer the question?” Lianne leaned in and scowled.


Yes I can, but I had to access my reserve memory. I can store a large amount of data but I do not have access to personnel files. I base my answer solely on memory
,” he deadpanned. “
The answer to your question is that I am aware of no one
.”

I turned to Lianne. “Don't you find that odd?”

She shrugged. “Not really.”

I sat down at my desk and fumbled mindlessly with the pair of stun knuckles that lay nearby. “So many intelligent races in the universe and many of them are represented within the Consortium. Not all of them, I'm sure,” I added, “but why the hostility toward my race when there are supposedly no humans? I haven't personally done anything to elicit such a reaction so I want to know why.”

Lianne's eyes narrowed and she turned toward Gard. “Gard, how many humans have ever served in the Consortium?”


Ever is a relative term, but I do not recall any human serving in the Explorer's League in any capacity
.” He paused briefly. “
Accessing Defense Fleet records: no humans have ever served in the Defense Fleet
.” Another pause. “
According to records, no humans have ever served in the Science or Education Units
.”

“Don't you find that odd?” I asked Lianne. “The consortium has been exploring the universe for ages, even going so far as to save humans from extinction yet none of the crew is human.”

Lianne smiled. “Wise you are, beyond your years.”

“Thanks Yoda.” I frowned and waved my hand dismissively. Confusion spread across her face and I softened my stance. “I'm not really good at taking compliments.”

“So what do you think this means?” she asked.

“I'm not sure.”

“We need to find out,” she replied. “This could be a clue to the answers we seek. The difficulty with this is we cannot ask the Council directly because we are not sure who the traitor is.”

“We need to speak to someone we can trust,” I offered.

“I'm not sure we can trust the crew,” she responded. “We don't know how deep this treachery runs.”

I scratched my head and stared at the floor. She was right—we didn't know who the traitor was and had no clue how deep it ran. But there was one person who might know.

“I need to speak to Kedge,” I muttered. “Do you think you can arrange that?”

Lianne wrinkled her brow and her face hardened in such a way to cause a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“I can arrange it, Nathan,” she grumbled. “But I'm not sure it would be wise. He is more dangerous than you realize. Even though he has established some kind of bond with you I have my reservations.”

“He may have the answer,” I insisted.

“That he may,” she sighed.

“Take me to him, please,” I pleaded.

“Okay fine. At the slightest hint of aggression from him I will end the interview, do you understand?”

I nodded and followed her out of the room. We ventured toward the elevators and made our way to the detention cells on deck five. Very few words passed between us on the way. I was too busy focusing on whether or not he would be cooperative. The two of us didn't exactly part on pleasant terms.

We stepped off the elevator and approached a guard station with a sign that read
BRIG
in bright red letters mounted above the door. The officer on duty, a yellow skinned hulk of a man—with one solitary tusk protruding from his bottom lip beneath his pig-like snout—held a rifle across his chest, blocking our way with his ten foot frame.

“This area is off limits,” he growled.

Lianne stepped around from behind me and the guard stepped back.

“Oh, Captain, I did not see you there.”

“At ease, Marle. We need to speak to the prisoner.”

He moved aside and motioned us past the station. We followed him down the aisle and I admired the size of each empty cell as we passed. Every cell came equipped with a single bed, bathroom, a table, a bookshelf and a monitor. We marched passed Kedge's soldiers, each one fixing me with a contemptuous look. Every cell came with a thick glass front and transparent door with a low humming sound emitting from it.

“The doors to each cell are electrified,” Marle explained. “The door may look like it's not there, but the prisoners learn otherwise if they try to escape.”

We found Kedge inside the very last cell. He crouched over the table, reading a book with his back turned toward us. As we stood outside the cell he seemed to sense us and placed the book down. He turned around and when he caught sight of us a smile played at the corner of his lips.

BOOK: The Cartographer
8.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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