Lit eZine Vol 7 | p-13 | FICTION | CartoScan

SHORT STORY

CARTOSCAN
by Jim Landwehr

WEDNESDAY
Parked under a streetlight on Portland Avenue, Lars pointed the handheld scanner and pulled the trigger. He did this multiple times in a pattern from right to left. After each shot, he looked at his computer screen. As each electronic pulse hit buildings and trees, they appeared within the fanned-out rays on the screen, taking shape. It was like a 3D camera with the kick of a small caliber gun. He worked rapidly out of his SUV’s window so as not to attract attention.
He finished up in Portland and worked his way to Hague Street. His thought was that a couple of city blocks of data would be sufficient for his proof-of-concept pilot project. Lars was lucky to have acquired the super scanner from his friend, Mike, at Advanced Computer Optics. Mike had a knack for optical readers, scanners, and sonography.
When he picked it up, Mike warned him of its power.
“Here you go. Be wary of the kick and remember to keep it plugged in. It’s a power hog,” Mike said, handing the unit to Lars.
“Sweet! I will,” Lars answered.
“It’s a thirty thousand pixels-per-inch 3D scanner. You have a decent amount of hard-drive space, right?”
“I’ve got about eight terabytes,” Lars responded.
“That should be more than enough. I expect a full report when you’re done.”
“Thanks, man,” Lars fist-bumped Mike and left, knowing he was holding a data collector made by the best in the business.

---

“I said get on the floor, now!” Dean shouted as he pointed his silencer-equipped .45 caliber pistol at the couple. He caught them in their bedroom in pajamas at their most defenseless. The woman was complying nicely, but the man’s fearlessness was annoying him. Dean was losing patience. The husband continued to hold his ground, standing at the edge of the bed, ignoring Dean’s commands.
“What is your problem, man?” Dean said, “Get down on the floor,”
In a fit of rage, he pulled the trigger twice, shooting the man point blank in the chest. The woman screamed as her husband slumped and fell onto the bed. Dean walked over to the woman, kneeling on the floor, and backhanded her across the face. She fell, crying, holding her face in her hands.
“Now, shut it, or you’ll get the same as him,” Dean threatened. He was pissed off, but needed to keep his cool if he was going to cash in. He grabbed a pillow from the bed, shook it free of its case, and hustled over to the jewelry box. When he opened the jewelry box, he found it loaded with diamonds and other precious gems. He dumped the contents into the pillowcase, along with a wallet and watch that were on the dresser. Dean knew these two were wealthy from the extravagant home and the Lexus in the driveway.
He ran down the stairs and exited through the side door. As planned, he would take the alley to the end of the block, where he’d parked his car. Dean walked out the door, looked to the street side first, and saw an SUV parked under a streetlight with a logo that read, CartoScan. Underneath the logo it read, Location is our Business.
“Crap,” he said under his breath. If there was one thing he didn’t need right now was a truck locating anything. The thought of it made the hair on his arms stand up; in fact, his whole body felt charged for a moment. Get a grip, man, it’s probably nothing. He saw a man in the vehicle, but he appeared to be looking down at his phone or something. Dean hoped that meant he didn’t see him walking out the door, but had no time to worry about that now. He bolted through the backyard and down the alley.
As he ran, he repeated to himself a name he needed to remember. “CartoScan, CartoScan…”

THURSDAY
Lars plugged the portable hard drive into his desktop computer and pushed the “on” button. The computer was state-of-the art, with quad-core processors, a gaming-quality graphics card and 64 gigabytes of memory. He had another identical computer that sat next to it. The whole setup was completed with dual twenty-seven-inch high-resolution monitors. It was a dream setup, but if he wanted to make a success of his Geographic Information Systems startup company, he would need the best equipment possible. His plan was to take GIS to the next dimension, and he knew he couldn’t do that with underpowered computing.
Lars double-clicked his mapping program he called CartoScan and sat back while it loaded. He clicked the open icon and browsed the file on the external drive that contained the data he had captured the night before. At first, the outermost boundaries to a neighborhood drew in zig-zag fashion. Then, the wire-framed outlines of houses, garages, trees, and cars rendered giving the whole neighborhood depth. Eager to see if the 3D add-on extension of his software worked, he plugged a black device that looked like a PowerPoint projector into his PC. Using an ethernet cable, he networked the second PC to the main one. The last piece of hardware was the component that made his product unique. He called it a Video Pulse Sensalator, a shoebox-sized black box with cooling fins and a pair of fans on the bottom.
In the middle of setting up, he heard the phone ring. He picked it up and said, “CartoScan, this is Lars. Can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m calling because I’ve seen your truck around town and was just wondering what CartoScan is all about? I googled it, but all I got was this phone number,” said the man on the other end.
“Well, I’m a one-man GIS startup shop at the moment. I’m working on trans-dimensional GIS stuff; scanning, visualization, 3D mapping, things like that. I’ve been around town doing some data collection, and that’s probably why you saw my truck,” Lars explained.
“Ah, that makes sense. Yeah, I live on the west end of Vegas. Were you in that area last night?” the caller asked.
“Yes sir, that was me. Can I help you with something?”
“Actually, you can. I’m in the startup business myself, only I’m with the financial end of things. If you’ve got a new product, and it sounds like you do, I’d love to see it. It might be something I’d like to pursue,” the caller said.
The offer piqued Lars’ interest, and he perked up a bit, trying not to sound annoyed. “Well, if you’re interested, I have a booth at the Technology Expo at the Presley Convention Center tomorrow and through the weekend. I could give you demo there if you’d like,” Lars said.
“That sounds perfect. I’ll stop by late tomorrow morning if that’s okay?”
“That works for me. What was your name again?” Lars asked, grabbing a pen and paper.
“Greg. Greg Littles,” the caller responded.
“Okay, great, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Will do. Bye now.”
Lars hung up, scratched the name Greg Littles on to a Post-it Note on his desk and returned to what he was doing. He clicked the SimuGram icon on the software menu and the projector began displaying an image onto his living room floor, as both desktop fans whirred. The picture started out fuzzy at first. It was flat, like a landscape showing on a mini drive-in theatre screen. Then, the picture spread out and took on depth. The houses became three-dimensional, standing a foot tall, with brilliant color detail.
Lars leaned in closer when a cherry red Camaro was drawn. He could see the car’s black interior, right down to the air freshener, hanging from the rearview mirror. The vibrancy of the colors and the soft, supple texture of the hologram image were nothing short of astounding.
On the houses themselves, not only could he count the windows, he could see the outlines of people standing or sitting in them. He clicked the zoom command and moved the pointer of the mouse to one of the windows. The fans on the computer’s graphics card kicked on and spun at top speed. Lars leaned toward the hologram as it refreshed on the floor and things came into clear view. When it was done, Lars sat back in his chair in disbelief.
Through the upstairs house window, he saw a beautiful brunette woman in a black nightgown talking on the phone. He centered the cursor on the woman and zoomed in again. The machine whirred and whined in protest and redrew the scene. This time, the woman’s torso from her waist to her head appeared on his living room floor in three dimensions. Looking at the lifelike rendition of the woman, she was crying, as evidenced by the tears he saw running down her cheeks. Behind her, he saw a figure of a man in pajamas slumped on the bed, surrounded by spattered blood.
He zoomed back out to the front of the house. After rotating the house on its axis, he saw a man coming out of the side door in a waist-length leather coat. Lars zoomed in and was shocked by what he saw. One hand was holding the door open and, in the other, was a bag of some sort. Lars spotted a large ace of spades tattoo on the right forearm of the man. When he saw a gun tucked into the man’s waistband, he dialed the police.

---

An hour later, Lars heard a knock on the door and jumped up to answer it. It was a police detective who introduced himself as Detective Davis from the homicide unit. Lars let him in after seeing his badge and offered him a chair near his computer. Davis took a chair, pushed the power on his police-issued iPad and started asking questions.
“So, you’ve got some evidence for me of the Harrison crime scene? What do ya got? Pictures? Video?” Davis asked.
“Actually, I think I’ve got better than that. It would probably be easier if I just showed you,” Lars explained as he turned to his computer and launched the CartoScan software. The Video Pulse Sensalator hummed to life and the familiar virtual neighborhood scene drew on the floor. The detective’s jaw dropped open. After a few seconds of watching the hologram come into existence, he typed a few things on the iPad.
Lars zoomed in to show the detective the crying woman, as well as the address posted on the mailbox of the house, and the gunman exiting the side door. He zeroed in on the gun tucked in the man’s belt and the tattoo on the man’s right forearm. Davis noted the location and specifics of the tattoo and entered it into the iPad suspect app. He also noted that the suspect had short brown hair, brown eyes, and a description of his clothing.
Detective Davis almost fell out of his chair. “Are you kidding me? Are you sure you made this software?” he asked skeptically.
“Yes sir, I did. It’s been in the works for a couple of years now, but it’s getting close to being ready. I’m actually demonstrating it at the Technology Expo tomorrow and through the weekend at the Presley Convention Center,” he added. Lars realized that he’d slipped into salesperson mode.
“Does anyone else know about this data?” Davis asked.
“Just this Greg Little guy I told the police about when I called. He saw my truck last night, then called me saying he was an investor interested in seeing my product. He said his name was Greg Littles,” Lars said.
“It’s probably nothing, but we might want to check him out. Routine stuff. Also, we’ll need a copy of this data, at least the stuff we can see on a laptop,” Davis said.
“Sure, I’ll copy it to an external drive for you tonight and you can take it with you.”
“That would be great. That’s some great stuff, right there. I’m sure you’ll have no problem getting people to back you. We’ll definitely want to talk to you and see the whole hologram thing in more detail when you’re done with the conference,” the detective said.
“No problem. I’m glad to be of help. Especially if you catch this scumbag.”
After he copied the data for the investigator, the cop asked a few more incidental questions; things like timing and his contact information. The detective wished him a good night and left.

FRIDAY
The Presley Convention Center was packed. Technology vendors and video displays were everywhere. The CartoScan booth was relegated to the far rear corner of the exhibit hall near the loading dock garage door. Because CartoScan was essentially a one-man shop with a tiny budget, the best that could be afforded was a spot under the bronze category of locations in the innovative technologies area. It was far from ideal, but it got him in the door.
After Lars assembled his booth and prepped a scaled-down version of the hologram, a man in a ball cap approached the booth. Lars could tell from his token orange badge that he was only attending the day. Lars reached out and said, “Hi, I’m Lars Nilsson. Having a good conference?” He spotted the man’s badge that read Greg Littles as he reached out to shake his hand. Seeing it, Lars bumped up the enthusiasm a notch. “Oh, hey, Greg. Glad you came. Have you ever been to this conference before?”
“No, this is my first time. This place is impressive. Lots of cool technology,” the man said, gesturing with his hand at the expansive hall.
“Yeah, it’s geeky. Hey, I’ve got everything set up and ready to show you, if you’ve got a few minutes?” Lars said.
“That’s why I’m here. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Lars launched the program on the main laptop of the two that were networked. When he clicked on the Go button, the hologram beamed into existence. The Harrison house came into realistic brilliance on the table.
“Wow! Look at the detail.” Greg said.
“Just wait, it gets better,” Lars assured the man. He clicked the cursor and zoomed in immediately to the side door. The figure of the man exiting the side door came into clear view and, despite being small, the hair, clothing and face were clear.
“Nice! Hey, check out this house over here. What a beautiful structure,” the man said. Lars complied and zoomed in on the house two doors down where the guy had pointed. It was indeed a beautiful house, but no more special than any of the others. He knew he had to keep the investor’s interest, so whatever he wanted, he would get.
After a few more minutes of showing the man the software, Lars stood back and said, “So, what do you think? Interested?”
“Yeah, I am, definitely. I can see huge potential.”
Patting his back and front pants pockets, he said, “Oh geez, I don’t have my business cards with me. Could I get one of yours and I’ll get in touch with you?” Greg said.
“Sure, here’s one. It has my address on it and I should be around all next week. Call me and we’ll set something up.” The man took the card and shook Lars’ hand. It was then that he saw the tattoo on the inside of Greg’s forearm.
It was an ace of spades.

MONDAY
Lars paced back and forth as he waited for the man using an alias of Greg Littles. The whole situation could go south in a hurry, depending on what the guy’s ultimate motive was. He watched out the window as the fake Greg Littles parked and walked up to the house. The doorbell rang and Lars took a deep breath, walked over, and opened it.
“Hi Greg, how ya doing? Come on in and have a seat,” Lars said as he reached out to shake his hand. The guy shook hands and followed Lars into the living area. “Can I get you a drink or anything?” Lars said as he started toward the kitchen.
“Yes, actually I’ll have a beer if you’ve got one,” Greg said.
Just then, two police officers jumped out of hiding with guns drawn, one from behind the couch and the other from the coat closet. “Police! Get down on the floor! Down on the floor, now!” one of them shouted, as both officers quickly approached him. Dean complied and dropped face down on the carpet of Lars’ living room. One officer straddled Dean and put a knee on his back.
“Hands behind your back!” he yelled. Dean complied and the cop swiftly cuffed his hands. They stood him up and frisked him for weapons, finding a silencer-equipped .45 caliber handgun in the waistband of his pants.
“Do you always do your investment negotiations with a loaded gun, Morelli? You’re under arrest on suspicion of second-degree murder. You have the right to remain silent,” one cop said. He read the suspect the rest of his rights. When he was done, they thanked Lars and told him they would be in touch regarding statements, court dates, testifying and the like. They led Morelli out the door and left.

SIX MONTHS LATER
Judge Mickleson presided over a courtroom as the jury listened with rapt attention. Andrew Jorgens, the prosecuting attorney, was in the middle of questioning Lars as to the specifics of his technology.
“So, in essence, your software is a three-dimensional scan of whatever the device is pointed at. Is that an accurate explanation?”
“Yes, sir. The scans are done at such a high resolution that it is similar, in some sense, to a 3D photograph. It was intended for use as a mapping or GIS data collection device.”
Attorney Jorgens continued. “Mr. Nilsson, in previous statements, you said that your technology can produce a 3D hologram. Is that correct?”
Lars answered, “Yes, sir.”
“Your Honor, I ask the court if it would be permissible for the witness to show his technology for the jury in hopes that it will provide an identification of the defendant in relation to the scene of the murder.”
“Yes, but I’ll warn you, counsel, if the demonstration strays from the focus of this trial in any way, I’ll hold you in contempt. Is that understood?” the judge said.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
After permission was granted, Lars stepped down and walked to the table laden with the various items of evidence, including a gun and a leather jacket, both identified with tags. Lars’ computer was also tagged as an exhibit. He moved the mouse, explaining how he was in the neighborhood on the night of the murder, collecting data for his 3D project. He described the hologram technology.
“So, having laid that as a foundation, what you are about to see is a visual rendering in 3D of the side door of the Harrison residence,” Lars announced to the judge and jury.
He clicked and, after a few seconds, the two networked laptops and the Video Pulse Sensalator began drawing the scene and projected it floating in space in front of the judge’s bench. The image of the door half-opened with a man exiting came into view, glowing for a second and then rendering. The entire image was only about three feet tall, but there was an audible gasp from the jury when they saw the realism displayed before them. There was no disputing that the man in the small image looked very much like the alleged killer sitting in the courtroom.
Lars changed the scale from half to full. The VPS hummed and whirred as it redrew the scene, this time at life-size. Suddenly, the cold, steely look of the alleged killer was staring directly at the jury. His black leather boots rested on the courtroom floor, one of them bent in mid-step, while his gloved right hand held the door open. The jury gasped again, and the judge leaned forward in his chair. They were now looking at what resembled a 3D avatar of the defendant.
The defending attorney stood up from his seat and shouted, “Objection, Your Honor! How do we know this data has not been altered to resemble my client?”
“Mr. Jorgens?” the judge asked.
Jorgens grabbed a document from his portfolio. Walking over to the judge’s bench, he explained what the document said.
“Your Honor, I have an affidavit here that outlines the fact that all of this data was temporally validated and geolocationally verified by Legal DataChek Corporation three weeks ago. Their verification process is thorough enough to detect if data has been altered from the date on which it was captured. The Harrison case data was found free of tampering as outlined in this affidavit.”
The judge looked at the document and handed it back to attorney Jorgens. “Proceed, counsel,”
Andrew Jorgens spoke, “Ladies and gentlemen, what you see is a life-size rendering of the data captured on the evening of the murder. Please note the gun tucked in the suspect’s waistband. It is the same model as Exhibit A on the table, which was found on Mr. Morelli’s person the night that he was arrested in the Nilsson home. Also notice the triple stitching on the pockets of the black leather jacket, a practice that is a trademark of Boss Tone Leathers, an exclusive, little-known, leather maker. This stitching and the jacket match Exhibit F here on the table.”
“Members of the jury, these may not be conclusive enough to convict Mr. Morelli of the crime at hand, but I would ask that you look at the right inside forearm of the 3D rendering and notice the tattoo,”
Jorgens said as he directed his laser pointer to the prominently displayed ace of spades.
“Your Honor, I request that the arm of the defendant be shown to the jury to see if he has an identifying tattoo to match the one on the hologram.”
Judge Mickelson said, “Permission granted.”
“Mr. Morelli, please stand and roll up the right sleeve of your shirt and show the jury your forearm,” Judge Mickelson said.
Dean Morelli slowly backed his chair from the table, stood and rolled up his sleeve. The tattoo was clearly visible to the jury. The judge nodded and Morelli sat back down.
“Your Honor, I have one more item to show, with your permission, of course,” Jorgens asked as he walked toward the virtual gunman.
“Granted.”
“I’d like to show a computer calculation of the virtual suspect’s height and weight,” Jorgens said, nodding toward Lars.
Lars clicked the measurement tool and then on the body of the hologram. A text box appeared above the figure’s head that read: Height: 6’1.2”, Weight: 214.72 lbs.
Attorney Jorgens began his closing statement. “I would ask that the jury take note that on Mr. Morelli’s jail admittance records, he was listed at 6’1” tall and 215 pounds. In closing, please take a good look at the face of the virtual killer in the image and then look at the defendant sitting over there. If you add the facial likeness with the tattoo, the gun, the jacket, and all the physical attributes calculated by the software, I think you have your killer.”
The entire jury nodded their heads.