Mike Resnick - Birthright

“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 intelligence will do, or even what it's capable of. Don't forget: Of the thousand or so species we've already made physical contact with, we've been completely unable to communicate with ninety percent of them. They're that different. And since the big map was the product of human intelligence and endeavor, it projects outcomes based on strictly human logic and experience. We simply have no other type of philosophical system to program into it.” “I see,” nodded Nelson. “For a while there, I was beginning to think the map had absolutely no limitations. It's still the most impressive piece of equipment I've ever seen or heard of ... and I am now willing to admit that you probably aren't talking through your hat when you claim to be the most powerful man in history. I imagine no planet is explored or taken without your approval?” “Right,” said Landon.

“Very impressive,” said Nelson. “I see where there have been half a dozen assassination attempts on the Secretary in the last year or two. Too bad they didn't know where the real power lay.” “Wouldn't do ‘em any good,” grunted Landon. “Most of our defenses aren't too obvious, but no place in the universe is better able to protect itself. Don't forget: No ship can get within a half a hundred light-years without our having it on the map and knowing every single thing there is to know about it. I won't say we're impregnable, but no one is ever going to sneak in here and assassinate anyone.” “How do you get all your information?” asked Nelson. “The map building itself is just a tiny part of the Cartographic complex,” said Landon. “We employ more than four hundred thousand people whose sole duty is to collect and correlate information that pours in from all across the galaxy every day. Beneath the surface, we have a computer complex that positively dwarfs the map building. Someone once told me that there are more than eight hundred million miles of circuitry involved, though I don't know who'd bother to count it all. Results are the only things that matter, and we get them.

“The data is relayed to the map control room, also beneath the surface and adjacent to this building, which measures some two cubic miles. The information goes directly into the memory banks, and can be instantaneously translated into cartographic terms. “When I spoke to the Control Booth a while back, the man at the other end merely punched some standard buttons that had been programmed into the Cartographic computer complex. What you saw seemed solid and three-dimensional, but was actually a hologram simulated by a few hundred thousand modified lasers. Anyway, the facets I showed you are static, or at least as static as the galaxy ever gets. Projecting our expansion takes a little more effort, and a hell of a lot of intuitive interpretation. As I said, you can't expect a five-hundred-year-old denizen of the Delphini system, a creature that is composed of silicon, breathes ammonia, excretes an oxygen compound, and has a metabolism that we can't even begin to analyze, to react to a situation quite the same way you or I would. And, that,” the Director concluded, “is what makes it interesting.”

“I could spend a lifetime here,” said Nelson.

“The hell you could,” said Landon. “I didn't bring you here to join my staff. You're here for an

assignment, nothing more.”

“Then why did you show me all this?” asked Nelson. “So what I ask you to do won't seem quite so unpalatable to you,” Landon replied. “At least you'll know that when Cartography makes an assignment, we've got a pretty dammed good reason.” “Well, let's have it,” said Nelson. “How many deities do I have to slaughter?” Landon responded by pressing the button on the railing, picking up the microphone, and saying: “Landon here. Spin the whole damned thing around so the Gamma Leporis system is right in front of me.” The pseudo-galaxy tilted on its axis and began spinning so quickly that Nelson felt himself being drawn hypnotically into the vortex. Millions of stars swung by almost too fast for his eyes to follow them; and then, as suddenly as it began, the movement stopped. “Very good,” said Landon. “Now put its planets on flashing blue.” A medium-sized binary just in front of the balcony was suddenly alight, surrounded by sixteen tiny flashing blue dots. “Fine,” said Landon. “Let me have every aquatic world within ten parsecs, and also the home world of the Lemm.” More tiny blue lights flashed on, blinking wildly, and Nelson saw a pattern developing. There was a ten-parsec line of worlds, a dozen in all—not counting the Gamma Leporis system—plus another that lay still five more parsecs distant. “Good,” said Landon. “Now change the home world of the Lemm to green, and let me see every aquatic world they possess.” The farthest planet became a tiny dot of unbelievably bright green, and the other twelve worlds, plus three more worlds in the Gamma Leporis system, turned red. “One last thing,” said Landon. “Show me the five closest worlds under our control.” Five white lights flashed on, all of them more than a dozen parsecs distant. “Well, Pioneer,” said Landon. “That's our problem.” “ Your problem,” said Nelson. “It doesn't become mine until I know what you're talking about.” “It's very simple,” said the Director. “The fourth, fifth, and sixth planets in the Gamma Leporis system are entirely aquatic. Which is to say that they consist of nothing but ocean. No continents, not even an island. Same with the other twelve worlds that are flashing red.” “So?”