The Cartographer (8 page)

“Come in,” I sighed. For the first time since Satou abducted me, I wanted to enjoy my solitude. I needed peace and quiet so I could dive into the things I needed to learn, but it was as if my room turned into Grand Central Station.

Satou came in, but this time someone—or rather something—accompanied him. I stood up and admired his new companion. Next to him stood a humanoid robot, except the torso sat perfectly on a set of wheels wrapped in tank treads instead of legs. Despite a lack of proper appendages it moved swiftly and pivoted its torso while navigating its way into my room. One arm, humanoid in nature, rested perfectly on its lower half. Its left arm, however, ended in a pincer-like device.

“Um, hi Satou,” I muttered and gestured toward his new friend. “What is that thing?”

“
I am not a thing, thank you very much
,” it replied. The voice sounded creepily like Stephen Hawking.

I fell back a step and almost tripped over my chair. Satou smiled before throwing his arm around the automaton.

“Nathan, I would like you to meet our resident cosmic expert, Gard.”

“Gard?” I echoed.

“
My name is an acronym for Geological Automated Retrieval Device
,” Gard replied.

“Sometimes I like to tell him that his name is really an anagram for `drag', because his personality leaves a lot to be desired,” Satou quipped. Apparently Satou came equipped with a sense of humor.

Gard's azure eye sockets flashed in quick bursts, like strobe lights. “
I am sorry sir, but my highly complex programming does not allow me the same emotional luxuries as yourself
.”

I watched the exchange with interest and believed that Gard responded to Satou with a veiled insult. That made me chuckle, and I promised myself that I would try to investigate further into his “complex” programming.

Satou waved his hand dismissively and turned to me. “Like I said earlier, despite his bland personality and penchant for snobbery, you can probably tell by the acronym he is very useful when it comes to planetary scouting and extraction.”

“Extraction?” I repeated.

“Yes, Gard is responsible for storing geologic material from our surveys, obtaining and storing DNA samples and identifying potential hazards on the planet surface which might impact future operations.”

“Oh,” I said blankly, my eyes shifting to the robot. “I suppose that would come in handy, but what does this have to do with me?”

“Well, as the new Cartographer, he belongs to you,” Satou beamed. “This will be the first step in your training program.”

Gard rolled into my room and Satou turned to leave. Concerned, I followed him into the hallway.

“Wait, what do I do with him?”

Satou turned and locked eyes with me. “That, young Nathan, is your first test.”

He disappeared around the corner and left me on my own doorstep fighting an internal battle about what to do with the current inhabitant inside my room. I turned around and waited until the door slid shut behind me. Gard stared at me, his unblinking blue eyes burning a hole in my chest.

I locked eyes with him. After several uncomfortable moments passed in our impromptu staring contest, I addressed the elephant in the room.

“So what am I supposed to do with you?”

He rolled over to my desk and hovered over me. Although he stood no taller than five feet, with my low desk chair and his imposing disposition, he seemed to tower over me. His eyes maintained their stern gaze upon me, unblinking, and for a brief second I was afraid he would start shooting laser beams from them.

“
Well, Nathan Chambers of Earth, I don't think you are supposed to `do' anything with me. It is I who is supposed to `do' something with you
.”

School's In

A
n hour had passed.

At first I wasn't sure what Gard had planned to “do” with me but his plan eventually began to take shape. About an hour ago he interface with my computer (by plugging some sort of USB cord which extended from his torso) and downloaded everything the Explorer's League knew about geology, planetary ecology, meteorology, biological engineering and something called xenoarchaeology (Gard explained this as the study of alien history and culture). Since the download took forever and appeared to be completed via dial up internet access, I slumped onto my bed to wait it out. When he finished the download, he asked me to come over to take a look. The amount of information on the screen was mind blowing.

“Jesus Christ, it's like the Smithsonian of the universe,” I gasped.

“
Jesus Christ: Legendary human born during the Anno Domini period on Earth. Worshipped by some humans as a religious deity
,” Gard said blandly.

“Uh, what does—” I started but Gard interrupted me and continued to speak as if reciting from a textbook.

“
Smithsonian: An institution established during Earth year 1846 and comprised of several museums and galleries across the United States
,” he rambled.

“OK, OK, I get it already!” I shouted. He stopped and looked at me through those maddening, unblinking eyes.

I sighed and turned toward the screen. The information added to my computer had been organized within individual folders and titled by category. I had no idea where to start and was afraid to ask because I was afraid Gard would launch into another informational tirade, but I needed to move ahead with my training.

“So Gard, where do I start?”

Using his regular hand, he clicked on the file marked “xenoarchaeology”. “
I would start here if I were you, Nathan Chambers
,” he replied.

“Just call me Nathan, OK?” I said. “Jeez am I gonna have to explain that to everybody?”

Gard stared at me through his blue, unblinking soul-destroying eye strobes and made a whirring sound. “
I am sorry, Nathan Chambers, is there an explanation necessary for something I did
?”

I had a sudden urge to reach over and gouge out his eyes. The frustratingly cold, pragmatic perspective he had on everything wore thin on my patience.

“No, but I would appreciate it if you called me by my first name,” I mumbled.

I turned toward the computer and felt his eyes on the back of my neck, and it was hard to ignore the whirring sounds of his processors as they absorbed what I said. I gazed at the computer screen and browsed through the information. The first line summarized all of the information contained within the file, but the meat of the subject came after.

It took me less than an hour to read through the portion about xenoarchaeology. When I finished I felt well versed in how the Explorer's League catalogued all of the information they gathered from discoveries. All DNA information, fauna/mineral samples, cultural outlines and other similar information is logged through each IPS vessel's onboard computer and later filed with someone called an Archivist at the Genealogy Hall on Caelum (which was similar to the Smithsonian, Gard explained with a hint of smugness).

All planets discovered by the Explorer's League had been categorized alphabetically. Naturally curious, I flipped through them until I came to Earth in order to discover how they felt about us as a species and what information they had gathered. As I clicked past each planet I heard Gard making some sort of chuffing sound that sounded strangely like laughter.

“What's so funny?” I frowned.

“
Oh, I am sorry but I was amused at the way you are clicking around on the screen. It reminded me of a pygmy grell foraging for tree nuts on Braxxis Five
.”

My face matched his deadpan expression. “Um, what the hell does that mean?”

A gentle whooshing sound escaped from Gard that reminded me of a sigh. “
What it means is that your computer has voice recognition software installed so all you need to do is tell it what you need instead of clicking around like a spastic neophyte
.”

I wasn't sure what a pygmy grell or spastic neophyte was, but I knew he threw a couple of veiled insults my way. Nevertheless, I told the computer what I needed and the file on Earth popped up on the screen. The information they had on Earth amazed me and I began to wonder how long we had been under observation. The file headline was actually an aerial photo of our planet with a description below it:

Earth
- Discovered during routine inspection of Martian transceiver. It is the fifth largest planet within its solar system and is classified as a terrestrial planet. The planet is comprised mostly of oxygen, iron, silicon and magnesium with trace amounts of various other materials. Approximately 70% of the surface is composed of water. Upon discovery, the planet had complex life above and below the surface of the water. Land, sea and air animals were abundant, however, they were of limited intelligence.

I skimmed through the file and the information they had on the planet impressed me. Their historical records seemed to accurately reflect what I had been taught in school (with the exception of the battle on Mars and subsequent relocation of humans, of course). There had been very little mention of the relocation process, but more of a summarization of events which didn't really tell me much. I wasn't particularly proud that the League categorized us as “war-like” and there was no comfort in learning that were “barbaric, but improving”. I sighed when I came to the end of the file and a single question located at the bottom: “
Ready to accept into the Consortium
?” and the answer next to it, accentuated by my disappointment, was a painful “no”. Our own shortsightedness held us back from achieving more, and our concentration on mundane issues prevented us from growing universally. I set aside my disappointment and accessed another file.

“Mars,” I said to the computer.

The Mars file popped up on the screen with its current status listed as “Currently Uninhabited”. I read through the history of the planet and it covered everything Calypso told me, including the human relocation to Earth. I focused on the section covering the Lumagom attack.

“Lumagom,” I said to the computer but it did not respond. Gard, who sat in the corner of the room dusting off my dresser for some odd reason, turned toward me.

“
Did you need something, Nathan
?” he asked.

“Well I'm not sure. I wanted to know more about the attack on Mars and hoped we had more information on the planet Lumagom.”

Gard's eyes flashed in quick bursts before settling in their normal solid azure state. “
I am sorry, Nathan, but there is no planet Lumagom. The Lumagom are not from any specific planet
.”

“Well you seem to be pretty knowledgeable, what can you tell me about them?”

Gard's eyes flashed for several minutes like they were strobe lights and I was about to enter the strangest disco ever seen. I was about to ask if something was wrong but stopped when his eyes ceased flashing.

“
I do not have any information available within my memory drives. All access to information regarding the Lumagom requires Defense Fleet command-level clearance
.”

Gard's response only served to heighten my curiosity and I wondered if Calypso had the clearance needed. I decided to file that away for another day and turned toward the computer. Over the course of the next several hours I poured through several planets (with Gard's assistance) and learned more about alien technology, various ecologies and several alien cultures in the universe. I browsed through the list of inhabited planets and their various ecologies—some covered completely in water, others with very little water, a few that were mostly gas, others primarily forest, a couple that were mostly desert—until they just made me so exhausted that it all morphed into one big blur.

“OK, I think I have had enough for today, Gard,” I groaned.

I turned off the computer and stretched out on the bed. Gard backed himself to a dark corner of the room where he remained, unblinking. After several moments, I propped myself on my elbows and frowned.

“Um, don't you have somewhere to go?” I grumbled.

His eyes started their strobe-like dance before he clicked and whirred at me. “
Not at the moment, Nathan. I belonged to the last Cartographer and now I belong to you, which makes your room my current residence
.”

I rubbed my eyes and cleared my throat. “OK, I'll bite. What happened to the last Cartographer?”

A few more clicks and whirs. “
The last Cartographer was killed in action on Romus Satellite Seven
.”

I sat upright and stiffened. “Jesus Christ, what the hell do you mean he was
killed
?”

“
Jesus Christ: Legendary
—” he started, but I waved my hands in the air frantically.

“Never mind that! What do you mean your last Cartographer was killed?”

“
Our last Cartographer, Kell, was killed several years ago while scouting hostile terrain on Romus Seven. The official report states that hostile forces engaged the scouting party killing Kell as well as Field Medical Officer Dax. The hostile forces were eventually neutralized and the transceiver equipment was successfully installed. Romus Seven is classified `barbaric' so all future maintenance missions are to be conducted in conjunction with a Defense Fleet contingent
.” Gard explained everything so mechanically and devoid of emotion that he could have just as well been explaining how to fold laundry.