Ep 1.5 - Vantage Points (Closed)

[Deleted]

His hands on his thighs, Max pushed himself up to his feet. His scanners had turned up a hit: there was definitely something up there, a metal object fastened upon an outcrop of rock. Hm.

But first...

Working slowly, he spent the next five minutes placing all of the rocks back into the position he had found them, stacking them one by one. For some of the more haphazard placements he worked to secure them more firmly, using whatever smaller rocks he could scrounge from the surrounding terrain. It wasn't a building he was constructing, it wasn't a bridge, but - it was the principle of the thing.

Once the rock pile had been restored Max brushed off his hands in satisfaction. Only then did he turn and make his way towards the path. The metal object was not far. Perhaps it was a plaque. It didn't seem very big. Not even the span of his hand. It was an odd point out in this isolated wilderness, and it made him wonder.

[Feldspar]

Max could scrounge all sorts of small stones loose in the area. That was one thing about this planet. Rock, rock and more rock, mostly the kind that the other mechs complained about being kicked up into a windshield. Not that a tank really had issues with that. Sports car problems, for sure.

When he finally finished building his cairn, it was far sturdier than he had happened on it, more secure against the elements. His own personal mark on this structure up on this quiet peak, his contribution now standing solid to mark the game.

Below the mech, the lake shimmered in the light. Bright blue in places, indigo in others, fading nearly turquoise at the shallow edges. A boat drew a slight wake behind it, leaving a white line against the still water.

When Max reached the very point of the peak, the metal object embedded in it became clear. An old benchmark plaque, pounded into the stone and cemented firmly at the highest point. There were a few old dry pine needles across it, as well as a thin grey layer of dirt. It had been here a long long while, he'd be able to see that in an instant. It was pitted with wear and age, the edges worn and flecked with green corrosion. Even the letters had been worn down by snow and ice and wind, but they were still legible.

A USGS marker, made out of brass. Some of the letters were cast into the pour, and those were far more readable. For information, write the director Washington D.C. it proclaimed, and then gave the elevation above sea level at 8,060 feet.

There was also a note stamped on the bottom. Two hundred and fifty dollar fine for disturbing this marker.

The lower stamped number was nearly worn smooth, but could be made out if he brushed some of the dust away. 1934.

[Deleted]

It was a plaque, as he had suspected.

But not quite what he had imagined it to be at the same time.

One hand lifted to shield the plaque from the bright glare of the sun, Max studied it. It was smaller than he had been expecting, and round, like a disc. The letters were worn, but still clear. The humans had embedded it into the rock somehow, ensuring that it would remain there for a long time, secure and protected.

He rubbed the dirt from it with his thumb. Another symbol of the United States Geological Survey. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost into a smile, even as he thought of the pin resting at the bottom of his pocket. So, the USGS had been all the way up here too at some point. Maybe the courier’s story about them working on a survey at the bottom of the Canyon hadn’t been as farfetched as he had thought. Eight thousand sixty feet. That was a longer climb up than the Canyon had been down.

1934. And if his understanding of the human’s brief timeline meant anything, then they had come up here a long time ago too, without the modern advantage of a global positioning system to guide them. It was admittedly impressive.

Max’s eyes lingered on the plaque as he stepped back. The boat on the lake caught the corner of his eye briefly and he glanced at it before looking back. Then, with some reluctance he shrugged his knapsack a little higher over his shoulders and turned away. This was a quiet place, restful on the mind. But it was time to move on again.

Maybe later he’d return. Stay a while. Maybe.

He set off for the path again, climbing downwards back to the ice cave.

[Feldspar]

Climbing down the deer trail was actually in some ways harder than climbing up. The footing tended to slide on the trail downhill; there were places where even the deer had slid and kicked up furrows in the thin grey tephra. The light soil skittered out from under his avatar's boots.

There were landmarks he passed again; the stream with the flourishing wildflowers. They'd tipped to follow the sun. The large rocks in the distance; the Pinnacles, rising in grey weathered columns along the route.

By the time that Max reached where he had hidden himself earlier, the shadows had grown long and gold in the afternoon. The air had turned chilly; no wonder the ice cave remained throughout the summer months, hidden in cool basalt and deep grooves of earth. The soft sound of the melt-fed trickle murmured and burbled along the one wall of the secluded quiet spot.

The long-needled pines still smelled of vanilla; the mouth of the cave faced into the way the wind usually moved up the mountainside.

Blue light streamed in from overhead. It rippled softly with the angle of the sun, as if he was peering up from underwater. The soft colors shimmered against Max's plating, touching his dull blues and gleaming along his treads.

It would be at least four or five hours until nightfall. The coordinates she'd given him this time were sending him still within the same time zone, but farther down the pacific coast.