Robinson Crusoe 2244

“… and now I saw, tho' too late, the Folly of beginning a Work before we count the Cost.”

“I love Tessa Saah!”

The scream exploded from the boy’s lungs, but as his voice had yet to crack, it came out sounding more like the shriek of a dying animal or a woman in peril.

They were sure to wake the Red Guard now.

“Merciful Crown!” Slink hissed as his head dotted back around the Keep’s bend. “For the love of the Eight, Robinson, shut up before you wake the entire Township, you fool!”

Robinson laughed. He didn’t care. He
was
a fool—a fool for love and he wanted everyone to know it.

Slink had an immediate urge to throttle his friend, but this wasn’t the time or place. For one thing, they were in the process of committing a crime that could get them both banished to the outer Regens. For another, they were currently perched six stories high in the sky, pressed flat against the wall of the Tower Keep, on a ledge barely wider than a man’s foot, in the chill, howling wind.

What in the name of the Eight was he doing up here?

It wasn’t the fact that Robinson was the son of Tiers and he was the son of a Wall guard. The unspoken rule that
his kind
needed to defer to
theirs
was flat-out stupid and went against everything the One People were supposed to stand for.

And it certainly wasn’t because Robinson was too athletic for him. If anything, Robinson was undersized and a bit chubby for his age (although Slink would never say it aloud—his friend was sensitive about such things). Yes, Slink might look like a giant when standing beside him, but that was only due to his most recent growth spurt (and his father’s genetics). He still retained the uncanny dexterity—honed by years of sneaking around the hidden paths of the city—that had helped him earn his nickname.

No, he and Robinson had been friends since their first days of school, which had come as a surprise to most because A) fraternization between Nobes and Mucks was frowned upon, and B) Slink’s family was cheated out of a second child when Robinson’s mother gave birth to twins. They should have been bitter enemies. They became best friends instead.

Even now, Slink knew Robinson wasn’t simply acting out. Sure, he’d made an arse out of himself plenty of times before by playing the fool and engaging in acts so unconscionably illegal or immoral that they should have both walked the Road long ago. He didn’t even believe Tessa was the real reason for his outburst—though he had no doubt the sentiment of his declaration was true. No, the reason Robinson was shouting at the top of his lungs was much simpler: he had never seen the Township from on high before.

Robinson Crusoe was born in the year 2228, and at sixteen years old, he had lived his entire life in New London, sequestered behind the Wall that surrounded the four square kilometer sanctuary his ancestors had carved out centuries before. The impermeable, unyielding Wall—a dozen times the height of a man, built of stone and dirt and blood—served to keep all threats out while also keeping the citizens in.

In the courtyard of the Crown below them, Red Guard would be patrolling at the crack of dawn. Beyond the six spires surrounding the Tower Keep were the Flats, where the underclass lived in cramped quarters overrun with rain. To the right, the Clutch, where the merchants peddled their wares.

At the Township’s heart sat the communal fields, divided by only a narrow, winding road—the Red Road—that led to the Western Gate and also up to the Shelf, where the Tiers and their families looked down upon all else from a golden perch, but one that still sat in the shadow of the Wall. There, Robinson could see his father’s estate, tucked into the north-easternmost corner, its grounds larger than any other, but not for the size of their home, which was surprisingly modest, but because of the flyer livery, which dominated half their land.

Even the Pate above—that massive slab of rock split only by the Tongue, the river that fed all—was inspiring from here.

But what truly stayed Robinson’s heart was what lay beyond the Wall. To the west was the Great Atlantica. To the east, Isle Prime, the continent of Europa, and the last refuge of mankind following the Great Rendering. Here, for the first time, he realized the enormity of the world and how small his place was in it.

“Come on, Robinson,” Slink grumbled. “The sun is almost up. Do you want to do this or not?”

“Of course.”

“Then look there. The second window is the one you want. That’s where I’m told
it
is being held. Take your look and get back as quick as you can.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I have no desire to see that thing. I have enough nightmares as it is.”

Robinson clapped him on the shoulder. “I appreciate this, my friend. You can’t imagine the amount of bragging I’m going to do in school today.”

“Of course I can,” Slink said. “I am your
best friend
after all.”

The words barely left his lips before his giant hands locked onto Robinson, swung him over the abyss, and deposited him on the other side of the ledge. It was such an effortless, graceful act that Robinson never had time to be scared.

Rounding the bend, Robinson was met by the sun as it emerged through the clouds. As he neared the first window, he fell to his knees to creep underneath it. Only when he heard a peal of drunken laughter did he realize what a stupid idea this was. He could get into so much trouble. Then again, it was the kind of brash, arrogant act that would ensure his reputation for a lifetime. He pressed on.

It wasn’t until he was passing under the window’s ledge that the sneeze struck him. He covered his mouth, but it was too late to pull it back. He hunkered down for what seemed an eternity, before eventually relaxing. He had gone unnoticed.

It was precisely that moment when the windows above him blew open and a gauntleted hand clamped onto his coat.

“And who do we have here?” a deep voice said.

A turn later, Robinson’s Red Guard captor delivered him by carriage to his father’s estate. As they passed through the front gates, his ears barely registered the rocks kicked up by the carriage wheels or the sound of the leather reins going taut as they lurched to a stop.

Vareen, the family’s aged housemistress, answered the door. She had become the closest thing to a mother the children had since their own died six months earlier. Even from the carriage, Robinson could see her face fill with disappointment.

Once inside, Vareen directed him past the kitchen where the staff prepared breakfast. They continued on into the sitting room.

“Your father has company in the study. Wait here until he can get to you. And mind your tongue.”

Company wasn’t a common occurrence at the Crusoe estate, so when Robinson heard several deep voices from under the partitioned doors, he crossed the room and gently set his ear to them.

“We must be careful. The man has spies everywhere.”

“Forget his spies! Time is running out. We need to act now!”

“You always want to rush in headfirst, with no thought to the consequences.”

“The consequences have always been the same if we fail. But if we succeed …”