Aidan Roberts stepped down from the barque and into the New World. After 8 weeks aboard he was unsteady; it took a moment to find his land legs, not helped by the jostle of other passengers who were now busy unloading their scant possessions and packing them onto the wagon trains that would take them west.
Since the return of Capt Varian's voyage, which brought sketches of boulder fields stretching for miles across the frontier, thousands of Europeans had packed up their lives and started the perilous journey to America. Many fewer ever finished the journey, falling victim to shipwreck, the privations of the continental crossing, or the fiercely territorial tribe of natives known as the Mellow.
Now Aidan had joined them. Fresh from his Lakeland success he was here to carve out his legacy, but something was not right. Representatives from the Patagonia Trading Company should have been there on the quay to meet him and show him to a sumptuous hotel where he could rest before the next stage of his journey, to be undertaken in the relative comfort of a stagecoach. As the common folk drifted away, Aidan was left with no choice but to search for his own lodgings, to be paid for with what little remained of his funds from the crossing.
Aidan was furious. Hours of searching later and the only accommodation he could find was a lousy room at the top of a knocking shop. Everywhere else was full of new arrivals or unaffordable with his meagre funds. Still, the food wasn't bad; a waif of a girl wearing a filthy shift had brought him a steaming tofu poke bowl that she assured him was brimming with plant protein. Aidan looked the girl over. She was somehow familiar and was, most strikingly, completely bald. Moreover, he noticed as she handed him the bowl that her fingers were immensely strong. The realisation hit him: Gaskins. He'd been through this port some years ago. Aidan pushed the thought away and asked her, "what news of England?"
"Well, sir, I don't know, I only knows what I hear from the sailors at the harbour."
"And what do you hear?"
"A fast clipper docked from Whitehaven yesterday, sir. They say that Bosi has done Spots of Time. He said it was piss, sir".
Now things made sense. Patagonia's no-show was no mishap. He'd been dropped, and now he was stranded on the shores of America with no means, no transportation, and no 9A FA to his name. In his despair he thought back to Wordsworth: "Nature never did betray the heart that loved her". Had he not loved that boulder, and yet had he not been betrayed? He slept fitfully that night, unable to think what to do next.
It came to him at dawn. More Wordsworth. "Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar" and "To begin, begin."
Here he was: young, gifted, and with a world-beating prowess in high-angled crimping. He swung his bundle onto his back and walked down to the wharf. There were the wagon trains and, after a short negotiation, he climbed aboard. They trundled out late that afternoon. Aidan did not look back; his past lay behind him, his future, his destiny, to the west, into the setting sun.