Grimoire:Places/Mars: Difference between revisions

“And do you know why I hate maps?” he asked me.

I didn’t answer. Not immediately. With Father, every question was vast, particularly those that looked simple. And simple questions deserved as much insight and wisdom as could be brought to bear.

One of his collaborators came into the office. Father didn’t have employees. Or assistants. And for that matter, he didn’t have heroes either. Every person, living or lost, was a collaborator, and that included his children.

“Clovis,” said the visitor.

“I don’t know why you hate maps,” I admitted.

“Maps end,” he said.

“Maps insist on having borders and edges or the table falls away. Which isn’t the way the universe works.”

“It doesn’t, no,” I agreed.

Then he asked me, “So how does the universe work?”

“Effortlessly,” I said.

He laughed. Which wasn’t uncommon for my father, but it was heartening to hear just then.

“What else can you tell me?” he asked.

“The universe is infinite and probably in multiple ways,” I said. Then I listed a few examples: The census of stars, the Many-Worlds principle in quantum mechanics, and the endless measure of tiny realms hiding inside every grain of Martian sand.

Then he said something ominous. Although I didn’t appreciate it at the time.

“The universe is someone’s map,” he said.

“Is it?” I muttered.

“Yes, oh yes. And what we’re doing here... we’re reaching beyond the boundaries, out into the unknown. And we pull back new colors to put on this map that can never, ever let itself be finished.”

These spires soar like birds into the dusty pink sky. I marvel at this, my new home. The planet I’ve dreamed of since I was a boy with a telescope, peering at that warm red light, hope of our overcrowded planet.

What I’ve been working on will solve all those problems. Developed in these laboratories built to my specifications, by my handpicked team, these nanites will double, triple, maybe even quadruple construction rates, reduce colonist casualties, and serve us in our spread across the system, then across the stars. Our first replication chamber sits beside the Cosmodrome, ready to outfit the colony ships.

Dr. Willa Bray herself came to congratulate me.  

“You’ll be able to expand soon,” she said. “Into the space currently occupied by the Shirazi Lab.”

“Are they relocating?” I said.

“Moving on to other opportunities.”

“I can’t imagine a better place to be,” I said.