Robinson Crusoe 2244 (6 page)

“Father,” Tannis said. “Vareen said she wouldn’t miss the ball for all the five continents.”

Leodore grinned. “Do you doubt her?”

“Of course not, but Roderick also said there are seven continents, not five.”

Leodore’s mouth grew tight. “Someone needs to speak with Tier Illus about his son’s prattling.”

“So it’s not true?”

Leodore sighed. “Yes, it’s true. Our world has seven continents, not five. But two of those continents are forbidden to us. They are where the Great Rendering began and were lost to horrors I dare not speak about here. Their evil drove man to the brink of extinction. Those who survived agreed long ago never to risk return.”

Father checked his pocket watch and shook his head. They had barely passed the communal fields and still had the span of the Clutch to navigate. “Let us speak of something lighter. Robinson, your friend Mayfus must be excited to attend his first ball.”

Mayfus was Slink’s given name. The Naming Day Ball was the only time the Underclass got to attend an event inside the Crown.

“Excited would be an understatement,” Robinson replied. “Slink’s been calling in all his father’s favors in hopes of earning an apprenticeship with the Tier of Media.”

Leodore shook his head. “Your friend has no chance of working on the Feed.”

“Why not? I’ve seen the underclass get apprenticed.”

“Sure, in the northern Regens, and from Tiers foolish enough to believe they can make a statement. But not here in the capitol, and not by Balthazar Abett.”

“What if you made an introduction on his behalf? If Tier Abett met Slink, I’m sure he would find him qualified and very deserving.”

“
Deserving
has nothing to do with it. Mayfus is the son of a Wall Guard. It is his place to stand the post
with
his father and when he passes,
in his stead
. Just as it is your place to one day supersede me. These are our customs. These are our traditions.”

“That doesn’t make them right.”

Leodore looked at his son anew and was surprised to see the boy didn’t avert his eyes. He was riding to the Naming Day Ball in his crisp suit, looking more and more like a man.
Too soon
, he thought.
I still have so much more to teach him.

The Naming Day Ball was in full swing when Tier Crusoe and family entered the Great Room, but many heads still turned to mark their entrance. Leodore received respectful bows and One and Fours by every Tier he passed, but Robinson saw a few whisper or sneer after they’d moved on. Still, his father had an aura about him that created a kind of buffer as he walked, like a deep-hulled river craft that others avoided for fear of getting caught in its wake.

The decorations in the massive ballroom were lavish with crimson banners that hung from balconies and giant chandeliers laden with candles glimmering brilliantly from above.

Feed cameras moved effortlessly through the room. The attendees coveted the attention, sporting artificial derision while showing off their finest garments.

Servers came and went from the kitchen, carrying plates of mouth-watering dishes as delectable odors filled the room. Others carried crystal decanters of wine and spirits. That night, not a single glass would run dry.

At the foot of the grand staircase, Tier Saah and his family held court amongst a number of Tiers. As the Crusoe family passed, the two patriarchs exchanged nods, but it was Tessa’s eyes Robinson held until her brother stepped between them, glowering.

Eventually, the twins were sent to the South Hall to join others their age, while others drew Leodore to the far end of the room. Robinson was left alone.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” a familiar voice spoke.

Robinson turned to find Slink standing with his father, the Bull, Captain of the Wall Guard. He was a daunting figure, barrel-chested and thick-armed, with ruddy skin and a dense, golden mustache flecked with red. His uniform was perfectly starched, with silver buttons that were only outshined by the pride in his eyes.

“Slink! I mean … Mayfus. There you are.” He nodded to his father. “Ser Grey.”

“It’s ‘Bull’ tonight, son. And from now on, I suppose. How are ya? Nervous?”

“A bit.”

“Shoulda seen this one. Preening in front of the mirror like a wee mare—”

“Dad,” Slink growled.

“All right then. I’ll leave you two to it.” He shuffled awkwardly off.

“I swear he’s more of an embarrassment than the pimples that ambushed me this morning.”

“He’s just excited,” Robinson said.

“I don’t know what for. I might be getting Named, but tomorrow I’ll be standing the Wall right behind him. Have you seen it yet?”

“
It
?” Robinson asked.

“The render. It’s in the East Room. Thought there’d be more to it, really.”

“Show me.”

“Nuh-uh. I need to practice my words. I only have one chance to stand before the Crown. I don’t want to screw it up.”

Robinson pressed through the clogged dance floor and made his way to the East Room, only to find it overrun with people trying to get a look inside. A few exiting looked pale and repulsed, but many others appeared excited.

When Robinson finally made his way to the front, he found a cage perched on a small platform. Inside was a creature, humanoid in shape, but with three legs rather than two. One arm was stunted, flopping like a child’s, but its other was grossly distended with ropy muscle and a fist larger than a cantaloupe that bore talon-like claws. Its flesh was wet, intermingled with blood and pus that ran from ulcerated pocks tattooing its rigid back and chest. Despite these horrors, the creature looked sickly and sallow. Several children from Tier families stabbed it with blunt sticks, laughing as it howled.

“Well, boy? Is it everything you imagined?” a familiar voice asked from behind him.

Robinson turned. “Actually, Taskmaster. It looks rather pathetic.”

Taskmaster Satu sneered, his eyes red from too much drink. Robinson had never known him to drink. “Does it now? I wonder if you’d feel pity for it if there weren’t bars between you? Or if you two met on the other side of the Wall?”

Robinson shrugged bravely. “Give me a weapon and I like my chances.”

This time the teacher laughed. “You wouldn’t last a day outside and we both know it.” He watched the boy deflate. “Your mother held a similar compassion for these abominations. She tried to see their humanity through the disease. Look what it got her.”

“My mother died in a flyer accident. What do you mean?”

Taskmaster Satu seemed to want to say more. Then he looked around. “Nothing.”

“You’ve always hated me. I never understood why.”

Pity bled across the teacher’s face. “I don’t hate you, boy,” he said softly. “Only what you’re destined to become.”

“And what is that?” Robinson asked.

Taskmaster Satu nodded toward the surly crowd. “One of them.”

By the time the Spire Bells began to toll the start of the ceremony, the rain outside had grown into a heavy downpour. Thunder could be heard over the music and once, the lights in the Great Room fluttered.

Robinson joined his group of schoolmates to the left of the grand staircase just as the Regent and his Retinue arrived. Tier Saah took up position next to him, his head held high, his mouth a grim line.

Robinson’s chest felt tight. He knew what he was about to do would rock the Townships, if not the very Isle. It might also destroy his father. But if he loved him, he would understand. He looked to Tessa. When her eyes met his he smiled, but she looked more nervous than he did at what was to come.

“Citizens of the One People,” the Regent began, his voice melodious as it played over the Feed. “Tonight we celebrate the Day of Naming. It is a sacred tradition that began over two centuries ago, given to us in the form of the Third Law by our founders to ensure our continued way of life. Here, tonight, your children—
our children
—will take the final step in joining us in full citizenry by hearing their names read aloud and accepting apprenticeship in their parents’ trade.”

He nodded and a group of Taskmasters stood up behind him. One familiar face was conspicuously absent.

“In adherence to the Third Law, I give you this year’s Named.”

With the reading of each name, one of Robinson’s classmates crossed to the dais and was offered apprenticeship under one of his or her parent’s name. Each accepted to the applause of the crowd and to the occasional sob of family members. Seleen Cottsfold, Powe Lawrell, Tius Absroy. Each proudly accepted their calling. And then Jaras Saah’s name was called. Robinson’s blood boiled as he walked smugly forward.

“Jaras, as first son of your parents, you are named to the apprenticeship of your father, Vardan Saah, Tier of Civil Obedience. Do you accept this calling?”

“Yes, my Regent,” answered Jaras. And as if fate designed to punctuate the moment, a streak of lightning and the roar of thunder set the lights fluttering again.

“Then may your addition be a boon to the One People until the end of your days.”

Tier Saah beamed as his son returned. Robinson’s gut continued to twist until Slink’s name filled the hall.

“Mayfus Grey, your father is Captain of the Wall Guard, is he not?”

Mayfus looked confused. This was irregular. “Y-yes, my Regent.”

“A fine position for an apprentice. The Wall is always in need of good men. But as a student under my tutelage, you have proven yourself capable of more. Because of your accomplishments and your father’s exemplary service to the One People, you have been nominated for apprenticeship with Balthazar Abett, Tier of Media. Do you accept this calling?”

Slink was stunned. Robinson’s head snapped to the back of the room where he found his father’s eyes. He knew in an instant this was his doing, not for Slink or to make a political statement, but out of love for his son. He felt joy for a moment, but it was tempered by the pain he knew would follow.

“O-of course, Ser!” Slink said as he found his voice. “It would be an honor!”

A hum ran through the crowd. As Slink turned toward his father, the Bull’s eyes brimmed, likely for the first time in his life. And then Robinson’s name was called.

“Robinson Crusoe.”

His chest tightened as he walked toward the stage. It was as if every sight and sound fell away, except for the beating of his heart. He glanced at Tier Saah, but his gaze remained fixed elsewhere.

“Robinson Crusoe, as first son of your parents, you are named into the apprenticeship of your father, Leodore Crusoe, Tier of Transportation. Do you accept this calling?”

His voice was suddenly lost. He tried to steady himself, aware that any awkward movement or errant glance might diminish the appearance of his conviction. Every set of eyes in the room was on him. Every viewer across the Eight Regens was watching the Feed. He was ready to sacrifice everything for Tessa.

And then the lights went out.

Several screams permeated the room, but Tier Saah called for order. The lights returned a moment later. Robinson looked up to find the Regent’s eyes blank.

“Ser?” he queried.

And the Regent toppled to the floor, a knife in his back.

Citizens screamed. Guards rushed forward. Tier Saah rushed to the Regent’s aid. But Robinson’s eyes were wholly fixed on the handle of the blade and the crest that bore his family’s name. His head instantly turned to Tessa, whose eyes held immense pity but no love.

Then his father’s voice rang out.

“Robinson, run!”

The Great Room erupted into chaos. But it was not the Red Guard or Iron Fists that dragged Robinson from the floor; it was Jaras and his friends. They hustled him through a side door just off the kitchen that led to a darkened alcove where they threw him down and pummeled him with kicks and punches.

“You should have seen your face,” Jaras said, sputum flying from his mouth. “That moment when you knew you’d been played for a fool. Did you really believe my sister would fancy a little nothing like you?”

“The twins—” Robinson started but was rocked by another punch that brought an explosion of coppery warmth to his mouth.