Robinson Crusoe 2244 Read online

  Robinson Crusoe 2244

  A Novel

  by

  E. J. Robinson

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ROBINSON CRUSOE 2244

  Copyright © 2014 Erik J. Robinson

  http://erikjamesrobinson.com

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  Edited by Jessica Holland

  Cover Design by Jordan Grimmer

  Formatting by Polgarus Studio

  For my parents,

  Who gave me a love of words.

  And for my wife and sons,

  Who give me the love to use them.

  Contents

  PART ONE

  Chapter One Walls

  Chapter Two Secrets

  Chapter Three Crimes and Punishment

  Chapter Four Entrapment

  Chapter Five A White Dress

  Chapter Six The Red Road

  Chapter Seven Tears in the Rain

  Chapter Eight Forbidden Things

  Chapter Nine The Naming Day Ball

  Chapter Ten Flight!

  PART TWO

  Chapter Eleven Into the Unknown

  Chapter Twelve The Forbidden Continent

  Chapter Thirteen When You Quit, You Die

  Chapter Fourteen Out of Many, One

  Chapter Fifteen Visitors

  Chapter Sixteen Contact

  Chapter Seventeen The Widening Gyre

  Chapter Eighteen Blood and Tears

  Chapter Nineteen Drums

  Chapter Twenty Waiting on the Moon

  Chapter Twenty-One Savages!

  Chapter Twenty-Two A New Companion

  Chapter Twenty-Three The Memorial

  Chapter Twenty-Four The Girl

  Chapter Twenty-Five The White Building

  Chapter Twenty-Six Strangers

  Chapter Twenty-Seven Broken Parts

  Chapter Twenty-Eight Aserra

  Chapter Twenty-Nine Friday

  Chapter Thirty Fire and Ice

  Chapter Thirty-One Rousings

  Chapter Thirty-Two Buried Secrets

  Chapter Thirty-Three A Familiar Face

  Chapter Thirty-Four A Desperate Call

  Chapter Thirty-Five Tracks

  Chapter Thirty-Six Seeking Answers

  Chapter Thirty-Seven The Hunt!

  Chapter Thirty-Eight Base of Operations

  Chapter Thirty-Nine Captain Jaras

  Chapter Forty The People of the Mountain

  Chapter Forty-One Betrayal

  Chapter Forty-Two Fenix

  Chapter Forty-Three Resi

  Chapter Forty-Four The Watcher at the Gate

  Chapter Forty-Five Reunion

  Chapter Forty-Six Departures

  PART THREE

  Chapter Forty-Seven The Return

  Chapter Forty-Eight Tessa

  Chapter Forty-Nine Confessions

  Chapter Fifty Icarus

  Epilogue The Promise

  DEAR READER

  PART ONE

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

  -Daniel Defoe

  Chapter One

  Walls

  “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.

  Chapter Two

  Secrets

  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 …”

  “Once we start down this road, there will be no turning back.”

  “Only a coward would want to.”

  Voices erupted in unison, but Robinson recognized none of them. His hands suddenly felt damp. The situation inside grew tenser by the moment. The tenor of anger gave way to mistrust and even fear.

  And then all at once, the arguments ceased. A new voice spoke, calm and sure. Robinson recognized it as belonging to the Tier of Transportation, a man who was also his father.

  “Sers. We all have much to lose by acting. But failing to act presents an even worse fate. The Campaign moves forward. Each and every one of you must ask yourself, here and now, will I support it or stand against it?”

  The room went quiet. Robinson didn’t know what this Campaign was, but even the mere mention of it set his heart thrumming in his chest. He didn’t know why. He wanted so badly to see what was happening on the other side of those doors. Finally, when he couldn’t take it any longer, he bent down to the keyhole for a glimpse inside.

  And just as his weight shifted, the floorboard under his feet groaned. It was a subtle sound, but it sent a jolt of terror straight through him. He quickly stood up, about to back away when the doors were thrust open and his father met him eye to eye.

  “Father,” he stuttered. “Uh …Vareen asked me to tell you that breakfast is ready.”

  Leodore Crusoe was dressed in grey slacks and a grey doublet with a bootlace tie. His black hair was slicked back to tight curls that billowed over his collar. His beard had been trimmed that very morning, but it was his eyes, so thin and foreign, that froze Robinson in his tracks.

  Even more disconcerting was the dozen or so guests spread about the room. They were Tiers and not of minor houses or faux titles. These were men of power from all over the Isle—men who rarely gathered together outside the council and never in secret.

  What were they doing here?

  “Fellow sers,” Leodore finally said, “My eldest, Robinson.”

  “Your Tierships,” Robinson said while bowing with an open hand facing them, thumb curved in. It was an old tradition, the One and Four. The open hand symbolized that he held no weapon. The inverted thumb meant he was positioning himself between them and harm, which signaled that he was a friend.

  Several returned the gesture, though none bothered to bow. Robinson recognized several of the men. Fonel Keric, Tier of Water Resources. Byron Frostmore, the flamboyant Tier of Horticulture. The elderly Vonus Cork, Tier of Agriculture, scowled from the corner. But it was Roland Fallow, Tier of the Exterior, whose presence surprised Robinson most. It was well known Ser Fallow and his father didn’t get along.

  “Perhaps it is time to wrap this up,” he said.

  The men muttered quick assents.

  Leodore turned back to his son. “See that Tannis and Tallis are dressed and ready for breakfast. I’ll be along shortly.”

  Robinson nodded and bid a quick goodbye before leaving the room.

  Once in the kitchen, the twins questioned Robinson fervently about what he had seen, but he gave little away other than to say, “Of course they welcomed me. Now that I’m to be an apprentice, they value my opinion about certain things.”

  The twins looked at him with awe. But his pleasure quickly ended when the final carriage left the grounds and his father returned and slapped him across the face.

  “That is the last time your antics embarrass me.”

  Vareen and the twins gasped. Leodore had never struck any of his children before. Tears sprang to Robinson’s eyes.

  “Ser,” Vareen pleaded. “It was a harmless prank.”

  “Harmless? Scaling the Tower two days before the Day of Naming when every Tier from around the Isle is in New London? Damnit, boy! You couldn’t have picked a worse time if you’d tried! Should that Red Guard report back who was in attendance here, the Iron Fists will be breaking down the door before the staff can hide the silverware!”

  “I assure you, Ser,” Vareen said calmly, “that man did not so much as glimpse who or what was inside the parlor. And did he not accept your token?”

  “The word is bribe,” my father said. “And just because he accepted it doesn’t mean he won’t write a report later.”

  Ser Crusoe’s eyes fell back on his son. “When I think of the tutors we wasted on your education. And the dance masters and the elocution lessons, and for what? So my son could be the laughing stock of the entire Isle? Thank the Crown your mother cannot see you now!”

  Before he turned and fled, Robinson saw a glint of something lustrous clutched in his father’s hand. It was attached to a long, thin chain. Only later when he calmed down did he realize it was his mother’s locket.

  He had not seen it since she had died.

  A half turn later, Vareen appeared at the Livery door and saw Robinson sitting at a small desk tinkering with leftover components. She never understood where the desire or imagination to create came from, but it had always been present in the Crusoe line.

  “What are you building?” she finally asked.

  “It’s a tracking unit. You can carry it aboard a ship or on your person and if you’re ever in trouble, you push this and it will emit a pulse that will help others find you.”

  Vareen knew what he was thinking. Ha
d his mother been in possession of this device, she would have still been alive today.

  “It’s brilliant, Robinson. Everything you create is. You’re just like her in that—”

  His hands stopped churning. “What does it matter? Thanks to the Eighth Law, it will never even see the light of day.”

  “The Eight are here to protect us.”

  He stifled a laugh before looking up. “Does he hate me, Vareen?”

  “No, Child!” she said, stepping close. “Your father loves you very much. He is just … These are difficult times. There is a change in the air, something I have not felt in a very long time. It’s like the coming of a storm. You father feels it too. It’s why he met with the Tiers today. Leodore has always had a deep love for the One People, as did your mother. Both felt it incumbent upon them to preserve what our ancestors built.”

  “But we have a good life here. Why would he risk that by consorting with men like Tier Fallow?”

  “Because not all views look out from the Shelf. Most have no windows at all. Isn’t that terrible, considering how big the world is?”

  Robinson nodded, but he wasn’t sure. New London was the only world he’d ever known.