“You’re smiling,” Viktor said when he noticed the Master watching him.
“Indeed,” Saah said.
“Should I assume you’ve arrived at a new plan?”
“Yes.”
“Am I going to like it?”
“Oh, very much. If anyone will, it should be you. I have need of your special talents, Viktor. It’s time to put them fully to use.”
“I’m ready, Master.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Gates
The orbs hovered, preparing to fire, when they suddenly turned in unison as if receiving a signal. Then one of the reticles vanished while the other slid across onto the rocks and onto a pathway that continued down into the vale.
“It wants us to go that way,” Friday said.
“Then I suppose we should.”
Robinson went first with Friday and the roan trailing behind. As they exited the cave’s eastern entrance, the remaining drones fell in around them. Robinson observed the closest one and thought it looked like a beetle, all shiny and black, with hidden eyes that sat somewhere in its reflective shell. He didn’t see any physical propulsion effects and wondered if the anti-gravity technology was like that of the flyers.
Sunlight lit the tips of the trees and warmed the air, but through it all, the mist remained. This vale—or whatever it was—was either low enough to hold in its moisture or something was creating the mist to keep it hidden from the outside. Robinson suspected it was the latter, and yet he still hadn’t seen any signs of people or a city. There was nothing but forest. Was it possible the City of Glass was underground? Or was it built into the mountain beside them?
Robinson did see signs of wildlife. Chirping rang across the gorge. And he heard the scuttling of small feet, which he suspected belonged to a squirrel. He hadn’t realized he had slowed until one of the drones surged in from behind. He raised a hand in defense.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’m going.”
The path continued to darken the lower they went, and soon the mist become a canopy that blotted out the sky overhead. Soon, they heard more running water. When they turned toward a protruding nose of rocks, they heard the running water and thought it must be a river.
As they neared the jutting protrusion, the path grew wet and slick. The horse whinnied in protest, but Friday held a firm grip, soothing the roan as best she could as they edged around the corner.
A beautiful waterfall ran twenty meters ahead, rushing down from an unseen height, filling the air with a dampness that soaked Robinson and Friday. The water fell another fifty meters into a pool clear enough to see the bottom. It reminded Robinson of the Pate, though he doubted this one was deep enough to dive in.
As they neared the waterfall, they saw the path curled in behind it. Friday nearly lost her footing twice. The second time, Robinson had to help her up. It was clear she had pushed herself too far and was exhausted.
“Wait here,” Robinson said. “I’ll take a look.”
He shimmied past the horse, disappearing behind the curtain of water. Friday looked back at the drones, noting they were always in motion, as if staying in one spot was impossible. When Robinson emerged a moment later, he waved her in.
“Looks safe,” he said. “Come on.”
The cave was smaller than the inlet and much more wet. The horse immediately began to lap from a small puddle in the rocks. Friday cupped water in her hands and took several deep gulps before sitting on the rocks next to Robinson.
“I think we’re safe for a moment,” he said. “Let’s catch our breath.”
“The drones aren’t coming in here.”
“No. Maybe they have trouble operating in wet conditions.”
Robinson slapped a gnat on his arm.
“Or maybe this is where they want us,” Friday said.
Robinson looked around.
“For what?” he asked. “A bath?” They shared a laugh. “The path continues out the other side. They’re probably expecting us to follow it.”
But to what? After months on the road, he was about to find out. The notion that he could be disappointed or worse left him uneasy.
“We don’t know where they’re leading us.”
“No. But we came here to find the City of Glass, and we’re not going to find it in here.”
“What if they’re leading us into a trap?”
“You saw how they took out Saah’s pack. If they wanted us dead, we would be. No, someone is at the other end of this,” he nodded toward the path. “The sooner we get down there and meet them, they sooner we can find out if they have a cure.”
Friday nodded. Then she jerked forward.
“Something bit me.”
“Mosquito probably. Got me too. Not a surprise. This is probably the only humid place within two hundred miles. Do you want me to carry you?”
Normally, Friday would have grilled him with a look. This time she merely shook her head.
“We’re almost there. Just a little longer.”
They emerged from the opposite side of the waterfall to find the drones waiting. The lead one resumed its way down the trail. Robinson followed with Friday and the horse behind.
Shortly after leaving the waterfall, the path opened and continued its decent until it spilled out near the base of the trees.
The forest was large, dense, and filled with wildlife. In addition to birds, there were deer, raccoons, porcupines, badgers, skunks, and bobcats. Friday saw a mother fox playing with her kits outside their den. A coatimundi used its claws to scramble up a tree in its quest for a bird’s nest.
The forest was alive with smells and sounds. Friday breathed them in deeply. Robinson thought her shoulders might have lifted. This was as close as they’d come to something resembling her home. Even her footsteps appeared lighter.
The drones pushed them deeper into the forest. Despite walking a long stretch of path, Robinson saw no one. No people, no footprints, nothing that suggested people had been here recently. Where is the city? he wondered. Was our journey all for nothing? He fought back his rising trepidation for fear Friday would see it.
Then, near what Robinson estimated was the center of the glen, he spotted a clearing where the trees gave way to a grassy field. The drones continued with them until they reached the fringes of the field before they stopped, hovering in place.
“What now?” Friday asked.
Robinson looked around and shrugged.
“Maybe this is—”
Robinson didn’t finish that thought. Suddenly, the forest flickered, the trees bending at impossible angles before bouncing back into place. Light stretched in defiance of natural law and turned fractal. And then, as if caught in a wave, the curtain of reality washed away like leaves in a storm, taking with it the field, the forest, and the mist overhead. In its place was a towering city of crystal spires so impossibly high and beautiful that it defied logic and reason.
Robinson reached out and took Friday’s hand.
“We made it,” he said, his voice tremulous, all his doubts and fears falling away.
Friday could only nod. A moment later, a shadow appeared out of thin air, walking toward them. Slowly, the image became more distinct until they saw they were looking at a woman with silver hair and slate gray eyes, wearing russet clothes of linen.
She stared at them both in turn. “Welcome to the City of Glass.”
PART THREE
“Redemption from sin is greater than redemption from affliction.”
–Daniel Defoe
Chapter Thirty-Three
The City of Glass
“Is it real?” Friday gasped.
“You’re not the first to ask that question,” the woman said, amusement tinging her voice. “Not when approaching these steps for the first time. Or after years inside. The answer is yes, of course. The city and its inhabitants are real. Or as real you wish them to be.” She paused. “You came from the west.”
“Yes,” Robinson said.
&nbs
p; “It wasn’t a question. I take it you saw the no trespassing signs?”
Robinson swallowed. “We did. And under normal circumstances, we would have observed them. But we didn’t have much of a choice this morning.”
“Choices are all we have, young man. Choices set you on your path. They brought you to our gates. Perhaps your choices even played a part in the choices of your pursuers?”
Robinson wasn’t sure what she expected him to say.
“Did you kill them?” he asked.
“The creatures were neutralized. We allowed the men to go.”
“That was a mistake.”
“Their dispute was with you, not us. And it was my choice to make. And now it seems I have another.”
Robinson felt scrutinized even more. Then Friday wobbled, and he reached out to steady her. The woman’s gaze softened.
“It’s been thirteen years since we last had visitors, and I’m afraid I’m out of practice as a host. My name is Lysa. Why don’t you come in? We can talk more once you’ve rested.”
Robinson was in the process of thanking her when she raised her hand.
“But first I must ask you to remove your weapons. They are prohibited in the city.”
Friday hesitated, but Robinson nodded. After all, what choice did they have?
“They’ll be returned to you once you leave,” Lysa said.
Robinson and Friday set down their weapons on the steps. Lysa waited.
“And the sling?” Lysa asked.
Robinson blushed as if his mother had caught him stealing biscuits. He pulled it from his breeches and set it on his gun belt. One of the drones lowered and used a mechanical arm to retrieve them before flying away.
Lysa motioned them up the steps. Robinson hesitated.
“Before we go in,” Robinson said, “there’s something you should know.”
“Your companion is ill,” Lysa said. “We are aware.”
Robinson looked confused. Then it came to him. “The mosquitoes in the cave.”
“Nanobots. It and other hidden sensors around the vale keep us apprised of all potential dangers. Not that we have anything to fear. The city is safeguarded always by the birds, or drones, above us. Also, we are impervious to sickness, disease, and infection. Now, let’s see about that bath you spoke of.”
As Robinson and Friday crossed the perimeter, a strange thing occurred. With each step, more details emerged and the city became more vibrant. Where before only an empty courtyard beckoned, there were now scores of people—sitting, talking, and leisurely strolling the grounds. Planters with lush trees materialized, buffeted by blossoming flowers in myriad colors. Towers that had appeared opaque took on an iridescent gleam. What looked like billowing curtains from afar were revealed to be cascading waterfalls up close, each spilling into fathomless, crystal clear pools. In the sky, singing birds soared around the people transported on near-invisible platforms to and from every tower.
It was astonishing and bewildering and an illusion like no other—if it was an illusion. The farther Robinson went, the less he could be sure.
The people were as unique as the city. They appeared to be of varied races, and yet, they all wore the umber, loose fitting clothing that Lysa wore. Some stared at the newcomers but never for long. If they hadn’t seen strangers in over a decade, they didn’t seem to care.
Robinson and Friday pressed along, taking in the wonderment. In a small alcove, they came across a quartet of musicians floating in the air, playing animatedly as a handful of onlookers watched. And yet, Robinson couldn’t hear a single sound.
“Lysa,” Robinson said, “what are they doing?”
“The gold reliefs marking the perimeter of this recess function as acoustic dampeners to prevent sound from disturbing others.” She nodded toward the alcove. “Go on. See for yourself.”
Robinson stepped across the invisible threshold and was immediately hit with a bright, buoyant harmony that washed over him like a blast of wind. As the musicians circled in the air, he mouthed the words, “What in the world?” In response, letters materialized out of thin air, reading, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik von Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Robinson gaped. “What language…?” Before he finished, the words transformed into English. A Little Serenade by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
Robinson laughed out loud, turning back to Friday. Even if she was sick, she had to see this. He waved her forward and she joined him, gapingly.
“It’s almost like you can see the music,” she said.
Instantly, colorful musical notes tumbled into the air, glowing in time with the performance. Friday joined Robinson in his laughter. He turned to look at Lysa and saw her whispering to a young man with curly hair.
His name was Gesta, and he appeared to be in his early twenties. He was more affable than Lysa, although there was a confidence to him that belied his youthful veneer.
Lysa excused herself, and Gesta led them into the tallest of the towers. Passing through the vestibule, they came to a grand hall that soared to enormous heights. The concentric walls were festooned with open-mouthed terraces from which people shuttled across the void on floating tiles. On the ground floor, marmoreal floors led to and from eight gaping arches.
“This is the Adytum,” Gesta said. “It’s the closest thing we have to a capital. To your left and right are the grand arches. These lead to the Halls of History, Arts, Lore, and Science. Up the stairs is the Sanctum, where the body meets.”
“The body are your leaders?” Friday asked.
Gesta smiled, amused. “We have no leaders. None of us is valued more than another. The body has many parts but only one voice.”
“Then how do you govern?” Robinson asked. “Who decides things?”
“We each have a mastery. A discipline. When issues arise, those who are effected are encouraged to join and voice their opinion. Inclusion is discretionary, but the body performs best when all voices are heard.”
“I’ll bet Lysa’s voice is heard often,” Robinson said, and Gesta grinned. “Where did she go by the way?”
“She had something important to attend to,” Gesta replied vaguely.
“What is your mastery, Gesta?” Friday asked.
“Pre-Apoc Socio Behavior.”
Friday looked confused.
“Us,” Robinson said. “He studies us.”
“Your rooms are on strata three,” Gesta said. “Allow me to call a rise.”
Gesta held up a hand with three fingers, and three radiant sections of tile materialized from the floor, hovering a few inches off the ground.
Friday shook her head vehemently.
“Any chance we can take the stairs?”
“Surely,” Gesta said.
The room was modest in size and décor. It did offer a view of the outer courtyard and the forest beyond.
Robinson asked about the bath. Gesta showed him to a glass enclosed pad.
“The old bathing methods were antiquated and never completely rid the body of waste. The lavus is better. Remove your garments, step inside, and raise your arms.”
Robinson was mildly disappointed. To him, there was nothing so luxurious as a hot bath. He’d gotten spoiled inside Sweethome.
Following Gesta’s instructions, Robinson entered the lavus and said, “I’m ready.”
Instantly, a dark mass of what looked like smoke emerged from the floor, swirling as it washed over Robinson’s body. It felt like a million butterflies touching his skin—surreal, but not unpleasant. When it reached his face, he felt his beard being shorn away.
When it was over, the glass swiveled open. Robinson stepped out in front of a mirror. His body was perfectly cleaned and groomed. He even felt refreshed.
“You gotta try that,” he said to Friday.
Once they were done and dressed in the banal but luxurious city attire, Gesta sat them at a table where the indentation of a human hand appeared.
“This is the provender,” Gesta said. “It determines your nutritional needs through
the pores of your skin. Go on and touch it.”
Both set their hands down. A moment later, an aperture opened at the center of the table and presented a plate of several colored blocks.
“These are edibles. They include all the proteins, carbs, fats, and nutrients your body needs for maximum health and recovery.” He eyed Friday’s blocks. “Hmm. I’ve never seen any so dark.”
Robinson picked up a block and ate it. It was thick, pasty, and tasteless.
“That’s … not what I was expecting,” he said.
Gesta shrugged. “Taste is a sense we haven’t valued here for a very long time.”
Friday picked up a purple block and started to eat it.
“Were you born here?” Robinson asked.
Gesta hesitated, but just as he was about to answer, Friday fell to the floor and began convulsing. Robinson stood to rush to her side, but Gesta caught him by the arm as he said skyward, “Iatric needed.”
“What are you doing?” Robinson said. “Let go of me.”
“You must stay back.”
“She needs my help!”
Robinson tried shoving Gesta away before a wave of electricity hit and immediately incapacitated him. His vision doubled, the ringing in his ears preventing him from hearing what Gesta said to the drone that swooped in to scan Friday. He saw Gesta nod grimly before Friday was cocooned in an electric field and carted out the door.
“I’m sorry I stunned you,” Gesta said as Robinson recovered. “But I couldn’t allow you to come into contact with her.”
“W-why?” Robinson gasped.
“She’s become symptomatic. The virus is now contagious.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Virulent
Robinson Crusoe 2246: (Book 3) Page 22
