Birthright

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“Stunned is more the word for it,” said Nelson. “If what you say is true, it's a pretty big revelation. If not, then they've got a totally unbalanced egomaniac in charge of a pretty important governmental department. Either way, it's not something I was prepared for.” Landon laughed for the first time. “That's what I like about you Pioneers. Who else would tell the Director of Cartography that he's off his rocker? Tell you what. Why not come and take a little tour with me? It might help you make up your mind. And always remember: Mad or not, government checks don't bounce.”

“That's what's kept me here so far,” said Nelson frankly. “Good for you. I don't trust a man who doesn't watch out for his own interests. Come along.” With that, he rose and walked out the door into his outer office, followed by Nelson. As he left the larger enclosure, a quartet of security officers joined him. He walked over to a small battery-powered cart, motioned Nelson to sit beside him, waited for the officers to grab handholds, and began driving rapidly down a long corridor. Nelson tried to follow the various changes of direction Landon took, but soon became confused and settled back with a sigh. At no time did the cart move farther than fifty yards from one of the huge outside walls, and it seemed to Nelson that they were continuously ascending, although at a very slight angle.

At last the cart screeched to a halt, and Landon and Nelson got out. The security officers dismounted, but made no effort to follow them. The Director led the Pioneer to a small doorway. “Not prone to vertigo, are you?” he asked. “No, sir,” said Nelson.

“Good. When we walk through this door we'll be on a balcony. It's quite long and of more than ample width, but every now and then somebody starts getting dizzy on me; sometimes it's vertigo, sometimes it's just the map.”

Landon walked through the door, and Nelson fell into step behind him. And stopped.

And stared.

And almost fell off the balcony.

Below him stretched the galaxy. Not a map, not a bunch of dots on a wall chart, but thegalaxy . As far as the eye could see and farther, as deep as the eye could see and deeper, it spread out before him in all its gargantuan vastness, all its delicate beauty. Millions upon millions of stars, worlds without

end, natural and artificial, satellites spinning crazily in their orbits, here an interstellar comet, there a

meteor storm, way over there huge clouds of opaque gaseous matter. “What do you think of it?” asked Landon with the air of a proud father. “I never imagined...” muttered Nelson, unable to tear his eyes away. “I never guessed...” Landon chuckled. “Quite a piece of work, isn't it? It's 57.8 miles long, 6.2 miles deep, 38.1 miles wide. It contains every star in the galaxy, bar none, as well as every other body we've charted. For example, there are well over two million asteroids between Sirius XI and XII, though we'd have to magnify the field to show even the bigger ones.”

“It's awesome,” said Nelson fervently.

“And accurate,” said Landon. “It's moving far too slowly for you to perceive, but the entire galaxy is rotating at its natural speed. So are the planets, and all the other bodies. All solar storms, ionic and otherwise, are charted. We've even got a fix on every ship the Republic owns, plus a number of alien vessels as well.”

Nelson only half- heard the Director. He was lost in the majesty and grandeur of the map ... thoughmap was such an inadequate word for it. As he looked more closely, he saw that the colors of the various stars had been maintained: There were red stars, yellow ones, white dwarfs, blue giants, binaries, even long-dead black stars. Though he couldn't see any of them clearly, he'd have bet his last dollar that the topography of the myriads of planets was painstakingly accurate. “This, of course, is just a beginning,” Landon's voice came through to him. The Director pressed a small button on the railing of the balcony and spoke into a microphone. “Control Booth, this is Landon here. Let's see Earth, and put it on high magnification.” Immediately a light flashed far out on one of the spiral arms of the simulated galaxy. It was a good five miles from where Nelson stood, but so bright that it immediately drew his attention. “Earth,” explained Landon, “And now, if you'll be so good as to look above you...” Nelson's eyes followed Landon's extended finger. Somewhere above his head, though he couldn't say how close it really was, floated Earth, spinning serenely beneath its swirling cloud layers. “Bad weather today,” apologized Landon, “or you'd be able to see something more than Australia and Antarctica. I could have them remove the clouds, but I'm sure you know what the rest of it looks like. And here,” he added, pulling a number of cards out of a slot next to the button he had previously pressed, “is a complete hard copy readout on Earth: land area, sea area, gravity, average temperature of all major land masses, dominant forms of life, population, political systems now in power, major religions, economy, military potential, stellar alliances, technology, languages, varieties of the major races, aquatic life, age of planet, life expectancy of planet, rare elements, atmospheric breakdown, and just about anything else you need to know.”

“And you can do this with every planet in the galaxy?” asked Nelson. “To greater or lesser extents, yes,” said the Director. “It all depends on how much information we have about the stellar body in question. If paper's not to your liking, you can get the information on tapes,

microfilm or voiceprints.”

“It's fantastic!” said Nelson.

“It has its uses,” agreed Landon, placing the paper back into the same slot. “I'm about to show you its major purpose.” He pressed the button once more. “Landon again,” he announced. “Put the whole map on dim.”

The galaxy dimmed until the nearer and larger stars were barely visible, and the planets and more distant stars were not to be seen at all. It looked, thought Nelson, like the death throes of the universe. “Okay,” said Landon. “Give me Earth again, on bright.” Five miles away a tiny light flashed on, brighter than the brightest sun. “Fine. Now, starting with Sirius V, flash every planet we control, put them on bright yellow, and leave them on. Give me a rate of five a second.” Nelson watched for almost seven minutes as a cascade of brilliant yellow dots rippled forth from Earth to Deluros VIII, then spread radially throughout the main body of the galaxy. And all had originated from Earth. A thrill of pride ran through him as he watched a two-millennium history of human endeavor take place before his eyes.

“Very good,” said Landon. “Now pinpoint every Republic ship that bears arms, put them in green, and keep them flashing at half-second intervals.” Suddenly the pseudo-galaxy was alive with green. More than twenty million lights blinked on and off hypnotically, most of them within the periphery of yellow lights, but some—a million or so—well in advance of Man's frontiers.

“Fine,” announced Landon. “Now, in blue, give me every planet capable of supporting human life, but not yet colonized by Man.” He paused a second, then added: “Flash all those that are currently inhabited by intelligent alien races on a quarter-second blink.” In total silence, another forty thousand lights flashed on brightly, and now the hue of the galactic scheme took on a bluish tint. Nelson was overwhelmed by the scope of the blue worlds, and hazarded a guess that about a tenth of them were blinking on and off, while the rest remained constant. “One last request,” said Landon. “In very bright red, let me see every world possessed of sentient nonhumans that might have the potential to resist us militarily.” Another plethora of lights went on, well over three thousand of them, red and blinding. Individually, except for the initial steps of Man's expansion into the galaxy, there was no pattern. But now, as Nelson stood back and let his eyes pour over the brilliant-hued panorama before him, he began to see channels of force and expansion, paths of greater and lesser resistance through which Man could thread his way.

“Do you begin to understand the significance of the Department of Cartography?” asked Landon. “I think so,” replied Nelson.

“We are, in a very real sense, the expansionist movement of the Republic. With our facilities here at Caliban, we and we alone are in possession of enough data to know which planets are of value, which

are not, which may cause problems of an environmental or military nature, which aliens may behave in

which ways. We carry the analysis of history one step further; we also see and study the ebb and flow of the future. We can, in much the same way I showed you our current position, literally fight wars on the map, safely predicting almost every logical outcome of every conceivable confrontation. We are not an arm of the Navy; the Navy is a physical extension of Cartography.” “If you can accurately predict every military outcome, why don't we embark on a full-scale war of conquest?” asked Nelson. “We don't know what a totally alien