So I decided that I would release short stories (chronicles if you will) about the life of Nathan Chambers. Now some of you may be saying to yourself- “Who the hell is that?” In which instance I might be tempted to reply- “OMG DON’T YOU READ MY BOOKS!?!?” But then I come down off my cloud and remember I am not Stephen King, JK Rowling, James Patterson or even the dude who writes the small comic strip in our local newspaper. So to clarify, The Cartographer (my latest book) will actually become a series of books. But novels take time and readers become bored quickly. The more I think about my protaganist the more I realize that I could write 1000 books in the series and never truly tell the whole story. Nathan has a long life ahead of him and his adventures will be many. Here is a short story regarding an incident in Nathan’s life that will make a nice compendium to the story as a whole but will most likely never make it into the series. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

The Archivist Library located on the planet Caelum

Explorer’s League File #100.123

Mars – Galaxy GX-743

200,000 years before Christ event on Earth

PLAYBACK FILE.

My finger hovered over the button, quivering with anticipation but unsure if I was ready to see what the file contained. Ever since my arrival on the planet I was eager to visit the Archivist Library and access the files related to the real origins of mankind. The Library, engorged with shelves of books, disks, videos and other medium, circled me.  The sheer volume of data overwhelmed me but I eventually composed myself enough to find the file.

Playback file. It was just two simple words but for me it meant changing my perspective on everything ever learned in history class back on Earth. Calypso briefly covered this topic long ago, but after his defection from the Consortium I wasn’t completely sure I could trust his information.

I pushed the black button and the green lettering lit up like neon. The monitor sprang to life and I found myself staring at a serene landscape, not unlike something I would observe back home. A large mountain range, far larger than the Himalayas, split the skies in the background. The snow tipped peaks presided over an enormous lake, so calm it would have been mistaken for a horizontal mirror. Emerald trees dotted the landscape on each side of the water. A dock leading into the water contained a lone human fishing off the end. If I didn’t know the title of this file I would have sworn I was looking at Earth.

Fish bobbed their heads from the water near the dock, teasing the flustered fisherman who seemed more annoyed with each passing moment as he tugged on the empty line. Suddenly the picture froze and a tall, frail figure stepped in front of the picture. His cropped silver beard and bushy eyebrows accented his aged face. His bald head had a few thin strands of hair extending from behind his ears down to his shoulders. Dark glasses covered his eyes. A purple and black robe covered most of his body and he kept his hands inside the sleeves, like a monk. I recognized him from a photo on the wall in the lobby—the previous Archivist, dead for some twenty years now. Even though glasses covered his eyes I knew he was blind—all Archivists are—but they have the gift of foresight. They can write, read and log data as if they had eyes. Behind the tinted lenses lay empty sockets, grown over by decades of skin and bone.

“Behind me sits Lake Hydaspis along the White-Ridge Mountains,” he bellowed in a deep, strong voice which betrayed his fragile frame. “The official cosmic date for this event is 25 B.E.C. and is the first video record of the events prior to Helios Protocol.”

The Archivist stepped aside but continued to narrate the events as they unfolded. When I observed the blimp-like craft appear above the mountains I knew what would happen—no narration would be necessary. Just because I understood didn’t lessen the emotional impact it would make.

The voice of the Archivist continued as the ship approached the lake. The fisherman was far too busy cursing his luck that he completely ignored the vessel in the distance.

“The first craft entered Martian airspace at 23:45 Xanthe time,” he continued. “Despite Mars having an air defense unit, it was technologically inferior to the Lumagom’s radar stealth. A sole craft had been able to infiltrate the air space, unchallenged. If you are faint at heart or have small children nearby I suggest you turn away from the screen at this time.”

The craft advanced, a bloated blight marring the pristine skyline. The fisherman must have heard a noise from the sky because he turned and looked up. It was too late, even though I was sure he wouldn’t fend off a spaceship with a fishing rod. A beam of white fire extended from the vessel, scorching the landscape, setting the lake on fire, and obliterating the man where he stood. I turned away, partially because I was horrified but also because the light from the weapon was so bright it pained my eyes. When I turned back the ship was gone. The trees, once as green as pristine emeralds was blackened skeletons of their former selves. The clear, blue lake was now a sea of fire. The dock vanished in flames, along with the skeleton of the fisherman.

The image vanished, replaced by the Archivist. “This concludes the initial recording Martian Event Nine-Seven-Five: Helios Protocol-4. To see subsequent events please refer to Explorer’s League file 100.124 in the Archivist Library.”

I held no desire to see anymore. Thankfully no sound accompanied the video. I’m pretty sure I would have been haunted by the fisherman’s screams.

It was the first attack on humans which almost resulted in their extinction. It wouldn’t be the last.

Alas, that is a story for another day.

-Nathan Chambers, Cartographer.