Robinson Crusoe 2244 (3 page)

He still wasn’t certain he wanted to do this, but the idea of beating Taskmaster Satu at his own game was too much to turn down.

“Six is fair. But what happens if I answer one incorrectly?”

“Then, as the ancients used to say,
the punishment should fit the crime
.”

“I’ll be kept an extra quarter turn after class?”

The class tittered nervously. Taskmaster Satu grinned.

“No. You will receive a lash for every question posed.”

Six lashes!
By the Spires, Robinson had never taken more than three and had never heard of anyone taking more than four. As tempting as it was, he had doubts he could bear the pain of six lashes, much less the unending humiliation that would accompany it.

“I think I’ll take my two lashes and move on, Ser. After all, I was late and that punishment
more
than fits the crime.”

“Pity,” his teacher said. “Though I’m not surprised. Over the years, I’ve made similar offers to a handful of students and all but one declined.”

“Then he is a better man than me.”

“Of that, there is little doubt. Even less since he was a
she
.”

“Forgive my assumption. I’m sure
she
was a remarkable student.”

“A remarkable citizen,” he corrected. “She too refused the challenge at first, but if memory serves, she came up with an interesting counterproposal.”

“Which was?”

“That her fellow students be allowed to pose the questions. Ironic that you did not think to do the same.”

“I admit it’s clever, but how is it ironic?”

“Because the woman in question was your mother.”

The blood instantly ran from Robinson’s face as a buzz moved through the room. Taskmaster Satu’s eyes never wavered.

“And to answer your next question, yes. She replied correctly to all six queries. As I said, she was a remarkable citizen, an exemplary student, the best I’ve ever taught, which is why you, her son, are such a disappointment. But to quote the ancients once more, ‘Virtue is not hereditary.’”

“Thomas Paine,” Robinson said, immediately. “I’ll consider that the first question,
Taskmaster
. Pick your students.”

“You heard the rules, citizens. Common knowledge of things Ser Crusoe should know. Let’s start you off with an easy one, shall we? Citizen Grey.”

Slink’s head bolted up in surprise. “Taskmaster?”

“Any question will do,” he said.

Slink looked confused and then asked one of the most basic things he knew. “What are the names of the five continents?”

Taskmaster Satu made a “tsking” sound and rolled his eyes.

“Europa, A’tacia, Afranzique, New Zaustria, and NuGee.”

“NuGee is a colloquialism and not a particularly inventive one,” Taskmaster Satu said with a sigh. “Can you give me the fifth continent’s proper name or shall I declare this contest over before it’s even begun?”

“New Glacia, Ser,” Robinson said, and out of spite, he added, “Once called Antarctica.”

Many in the class looked confused. Taskmaster Satu nodded but leaned close to him. “Careful, boy. Some names are forbidden for a reason.”

He next called the very pedantic Aris Green, who deliberated carefully.

“Name the capital cities of the eight Regens and their primary export.”

Another easy one.

“Regen 1, North Hub, textiles. Regen 2, the Sunderlands or ‘Twin Rivers,’ fresh water fish. Regen 3, Lake Stone Grize, lumber. Regen 4, South Hub, livestock. Regen 5, Dragoon, minerals and metals. Regen 6, Shir’ton, grains. Regen 7, Vento, agriculture. And Regen 8, New London, attractive people.” The class giggled even as Taskmaster Satu frowned. “And leadership, of course.”

Taskmaster Satu nodded toward Bevin Vig, who stood with a flip of her curly hair. “Name the three divisions of Academnia and the five subcategories of each.”

Robinson yawned. “Of the General Approved Disciplines, there is Mathematics, Human Science, Language, Civil Obedience, and Labor. Of the Advanced Disciplines, there is Medicine, Physics, Selective Defense Training, Lineage and Childbearing, and Communications. Of the Forbidden Disciplines, there is History, Engineering, Literature and the Arts, Chemical Biology, and Ideo-Religious Studies.”

Flora Sunchild, a daft girl from Regen 1, raised her hand eagerly.

“What are the Eight Laws of the One People?”

Robinson looked to his teacher as if to say, “This is the best you have to offer?”

“In the winter of the Great Rendering and the fall of man, We, the One People, do pledge this oath: that never again, by cause or deed, shall we affect harm or injury to man or beast, earth or sky, ocean or—” he recited.

“Citizen Crusoe,” Taskmaster Satu interrupted. “Your talent for memorization, while no doubt
impressive
to your fellow students, bores me. For brevity’s sake, summarize please.”

“Of course. The First Law stands on equality. Each of us is a uniform piece of the larger whole. No man, be he farmer or Regent, is above the other in the eyes of us all.”

Robinson almost gagged saying it.

“The Second Law condemns all written works, since knowledge and history is authored by the corruptible. This is why Taskmasters like yourself do not teach from books but from memory, and why our papers are burned at the end of each year. From mouth to ear, thus knowledge is passed, from parent to child, from first to last.”

“You segue to the Third Law well,” Taskmaster Satu said.

“Thank you. The Third Law tells us that every skill and trade must be passed from parent to child to ensure both purity and dedication of the craft.”

“And do you like flying, Ser Crusoe?” Taskmaster Satu asked innocently.

Robinson smirked. “As I am yet an apprentice, Taskmaster, it is illegal for me to participate in my father’s trade, but when I find out, you’ll be the first to know.”

“How considerate of you.”

He continued, “The Fourth Law centers on the Wall or what happens on this side of it. As populous dissemination once led to global strife, we stay sequestered within the realm of our Eight Regens and Isle Prime. In this, we maintain our peace, health, and security from now until the end.”

“The end of what?”

“Whatever end we face.”

“But the Eight ensure the One People will live forever. Or do you not believe in the Law?”

“I meant until our individual ends, Taskmaster. We all die. Is it not an
expirable
offense to suggest otherwise?”

Taskmaster Satu nodded in appreciation. “Continue.”

“The Fifth Law is the condemnation of violence. It ensures that any hand raised by one Citizen against another shall pay the ultimate price.”

Robinson looked to Jaras Saah as he said it and watched him sneer.

“Continue.”

“The Sixth Law regulates the use of music and dance, as endorsed by the Council of Tiers. At no time, however, may music incorporate vocalizations or may dance adopt a provocative tone given their inherently corruptible natures.”

“Your own song and dance is coming to an end and we are all thankful for it.”

“The Seventh Law outlaws the practice of ideology and religion, since they are the reasons most often blamed for the Great Rendering and the fall of man.”

“As if man’s nature should share no culpability,” Taskmaster said, seemingly to himself. “And the last. The Eighth Law?”

“The Eighth Law denounces technology and all of its pervasive forms.”

“For invention is the lowest form of magic. It is easier to take a thousand lives with a button than a single one with a blade. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Robinson said honestly.

“Hmm. I had heard somewhere that you enjoy to tinker.”

“Only when the Feed in my room is acting up, Taskmaster.”

Robinson’s point was obvious. How can we claim to honor the Eight when things like electricity, flyers, and the Feed were being used more and more?

“Citizen Crusoe has answered five questions successfully, albeit it softballs, every one.”

“Softballs?” someone asked.

Taskmaster Satu waved her off. “Does anyone have a question that might challenge this truant fellow?”

Several hands went up, but none of them gave Robinson any worry. It was only when Jaras Saah’s hand went up that a nagging doubt pricked at him.

“Citizen Saah.”

Jaras stood. He was the tallest boy in the class, behind Slink, but despite his proper attire and handsome looks, his veins pumped only cruel blood.

“How many beds are there in the gaoler’s cell of the Tower Keep?”

And in that instant, Robinson’s heart ceased to beat.

He’d been ambushed.

Jaras knew Robinson had been caught scaling the Tower Keep that morning and had shared the news with Taskmaster Satu. If he admitted to the act, he would be forced to go before the Tier of Civil Obedience, Tessa and Jaras’s father. If he lied and was exposed, his punishment would be much worse. He gave the only answer he could.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer the question,” he muttered.

“Do you mean to say you
don’t know
how many beds are in the Tower Keep?”

“I just can’t answer the question.”

“That is unfortunate,” Taskmaster Satu said before calling Robinson to the front of the room.

He tried not to let his knees shake as he peeled back his shirt cuffs again and exposed forearms that were white and toneless.

“Citizen Crusoe, the punishment for your transgressions is six lashes. Do you have anything to say?”

Robinson swallowed but shook his head. In the back, Jaras grinned.

Taskmaster Satu raised the whip high and brought it down hard against Robinson’s naked flesh. The sound was enough to make most students wince.

Crack!

With the second whip, two angry red welts ballooned on Robinson’s arms and sweat tickled his scalp.

Crack!

The pain was so intense that even the simple act of curling his fingers sent needles shooting throughout his body. A tear coursed down his cheek.

Crack!

When the fourth strike buckled his knees, many students looked away. The fifth drew sobs. Robinson would not look away. Eventually, he locked eyes with Slink. A single nod was enough to buoy his spirits. He could cry no more.

“Are we done?” Robinson asked after the final lash, his voice oddly steady.

Taskmaster Satu nodded minutely.

For the rest of the class, Robinson sat in silence. When the final bell rang, the pall immediately dispersed and chatter erupted as students spilled from the room.

“Citizen Crusoe,” Taskmaster Satu called, “a moment please.”

Jaras Saah paused, but eventually filed out too. Slink was the last to go.

“Do you know what your problem is, Crusoe?” His voice was weary. “Your problem is that you spend every waking moment trying to be clever. Ignorance is a terrible misfortune, but cleverness without wisdom is a far greater evil.”

“Is that a quote?”

“Consider it a gift. To remember our time together.”

“I have a feeling you, Ser, will reflect more fondly upon these days than me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Youth is the carrot before the stick. In my classroom, you have tasted both. There may come a time out there when you realize I’ve taught you more than you know.”

“At least out there I’ll be free to make my own choices.”

He chuckled. “A man has free choice to the extent that he is rational.”

“Thomas Aquinas.”

This time he blinked. “Your mother gave you a fine education. And a dangerous one. But here is one from Ser Aquinas that you might not know: ‘Three things are necessary for the salvation of man: to know what he ought to believe; to know what he ought to desire; and to know what he ought to do.’ You know none of these. And until you do, I’m afraid you will always be a danger to yourself and those around you.”

Robinson shook his head. He was tired of lessons and brutality. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? In two days, I will stand before the Regent on the Day of Naming and hear my name read aloud. And then I’ll be on my way to becoming a Tier myself.”