Deathstalker War
“I could make you talk,” said Giles. “Look at me, toy.”
He leaned forward slightly, staring into the head’s dark eyes. His presence was suddenly overpowering, frightening, awful. As though something unexpected and horribly powerful had emerged from behind the mask of Giles’s face. The Bear and the Goat shrank back, and Toby had to fight down the urge to do the same. Flynn’s control over his camera wavered for a moment, but he kept filming. The head made a high, whining noise, a terrified, pitiful sound, like a child being tortured. Giles relaxed suddenly, and the overwhelming presence was gone, as suddenly as it had come. The head had its eyes squeezed shut.
“All right,” it said quietly. “We’re scared of the Red Man. No one who goes to him comes back. Ever. Even those most fanatical to our cause. From what we hear, he’s building a private army of his own, deep in the Forest. It’s said he’s going to end the war. Or end the world. They say he’s crazy, crazy as only a human can be, and he’s infecting toys with that madness. I know you humans. You’d try and reason with him, and you’d end up mad as he is. Mad as the Red Man. And who knows how powerful he’d become with more humans to help him, humans as crazy as he is. So, we’re lying in wait, all along the River. You’ll never live to reach the Forest.”
“We want to take him away,” said Giles. “Take him offworld with us. Isn’t that what you want?”
The head just laughed. “You’re lying. Humans always lie. We know that. They said they loved us, when they came here to play with us, but in the end they always went away and left us behind. We were just toys, to be used and discarded on a whim. They never loved us. You’ll all pay for that.”
“I think we’ve heard enough,” said Giles. “This is for Julian.”
He picked up the head, and pressed his thumbs firmly into its eyes. The huge eyeballs crunched inward, destroying the fragile instruments within. The head howled piteously. Giles pulled his thumbs out, and tossed the screaming head over the rail and into the River, to be found and recovered by its fellows, or not. Giles looked at the others, but neither the humans nor the toys had anything to say. Giles put his back against the guardrail.
“Not as helpful as I’d hoped,” he said calmly. “Did I miss anything pertinent?”
“Just the one, maybe,” said Toby. “Why do you suppose they keep referring to Harker as the Red Man?”
“They say he’s crazy,” said Giles. “Dangerously crazy. Maybe the red is a reference to blood.”
“And we’re going to meet him,” said the Sea Goat. “Lucky old us.”
“Shut up, Goat,” said the Bear, not unkindly.
They continued on down the River, passing abandoned battlefields and dead toys. The war had been here, and passed on. The constant rumble of explosions in the distance grew gradually louder, nearer. They passed playhouses; forts and castles, log cabins and rose-covered cottages. Burnt-out, torn apart, utterly destroyed. A farm, complete with barns and outbuildings for artificial animals. The animals were long gone, but the buildings had been torched, and only the blackened bones of humans remained, from where they’d been tied to spits in the blazing farmyard. Signs of the war were everywhere now, as the paddle steamer drew nearer to the Forest, and everywhere lay the broken bodies of dead toys, lying looking up at the sky with empty eyes; no way now to know whether they’d been good or bad toys, or if they’d even given a damn. The ship sailed on as the day faded into the evening and then into night.
They found an open field, apparently untouched by the war, and pulled in beside the Riverbank. The humans felt a need for fresh air and the chance to stretch their legs. The toys didn’t really understand, but went along with it. Though they hadn’t said anything, it was clear their growing nearness to the Forest was worrying them, and they were as glad of a pause in the journey as the humans were. The night was dark and the air was cold, so they built a fire from the surrounding shrubbery and sat around it. It was almost peaceful, apart from the constant distant rumble of the war, like a roll of thunder that had no end. The sleepy moon was out again, and the five-pointed stars.
They’d had to carry Julian off the ship. The boost Giles had given him had worn off, and his injuries hurt him more as the warmth went out of the day. But he seemed cheerful enough now, sitting as close to the fire as he could, toasting marshmallows on a stick. The Bear and the Goat sat on either side of him, trying to give support through their company. The Goat kept burning his marshmallows because he was always too busy talking to pay them the proper attention. The Bear ate them anyway, to keep the peace. Finlay sat opposite them, with Evangeline at his side, as always. Toby and Flynn had three sticks each, and were stuffing their faces with marshmallows as fast as they could toast them. Toby kept Halloweenie busy running back and forth fetching them more. He was a little slower than he had been, with his new metal splints and staples holding his bones together, but he was happy as always to be of use, Giles sat a little apart from everyone, smoking an evil-smelling cigar and saying nothing. He showed no interest in the marshmallows. Poogie the Friendly Critter also sat by himself, as though unsure he was really welcome. The Captain and Anything stayed on board the Merry Mrs. Trusspot, to keep an eye on things, they said. And so everyone sat around the fire, and ate marshmallows, and sang songs and talked on into the night. And finally, they got around to the subject of childhood.
Bruin Bear started it off. Finlay had been talking about some of the stranger worlds he’d seen in his travels, and the Bear asked what he made of Shannon’s World, the planet intended for adult children. Finlay frowned.
“It’s hard to tell what this place was really like before the war, but I think I can see the attraction. A place free of adult cares and worries, a chance to be a child again. To get childhood right, the way it should have been. Few childhoods are really happy, except for those with extremely selective memories. I was no good at being a child. I had no gift for it. I just wanted it to be over, so I could enter the much more interesting world that adults moved in.
“In Clan Campbell, like all Clans, children are trained to be useful members of the Family from a very early age. And a fighter, too, because my Family had many enemies, and just by being born I had become part of feuds and vendettas going back centuries. I took to that early, too much so for my conservative parents, who feared a scandal if their designated son and heir killed anyone important in an unsanctioned duel.
“I never saw much of my parents. Dad was always off somewhere else, running the Clan, taking care of Family business. And Mother Dear preferred the Social whirl to raising children. Typical Clan parents. I had an endless series of nannies and tutors, determined to teach me the proper way of things, and try and keep me out of trouble. I didn’t have many friends. Real friends. Companions outside the Family were discouraged, and inside the Clan we were all too busy jockeying for position and influence. But I had toys. All the toys I could handle.
“I remember the stories of Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat, and their adventures in the Golden Lands. I used to dream of traveling with them, into the lands beyond the sunset. And now here I am, traveling with them for real. Eerie.” He smiled across the fire at the toys. “You’re just like I remember you. It’s like meeting old friends I haven’t seen in years. Maybe the only real friends I had, as a child. No wonder so many people came here. To enjoy the childhood they wish they’d had. Or only had in dreams.”
“I envy you those dreams,” said Evangeline. “I never had a childhood. As a clone, I came into this world fully grown. Born from cell scrapings from the original Evangeline. Daddy needed me, to replace the daughter he’d murdered. So I was raised in secret, told about a childhood I never had, and then sent out into the world to be an adult, even though I was only six months old. Most of what I see here is . . . strange to me. I never had toys. Or pets. Daddy didn’t want me to have anything in my life but him. I’ve never played. Never been free of secrets and responsibilities. I see the toys here, and I don’t know what to do with them, how to talk to
them. But something in me wants to hold them, or be held by them, or just to run and chase and laugh in the sunlight, as though it’s something I’ve always wanted, and never knew it.” She stopped abruptly, unshed tears thickening her voice. Finlay put his arm round her.
“We’re here for you,” said Bruin Bear. “We’ll always be here for you.”
“Hell,” said Toby. “Didn’t anyone here have a normal childhood? Surely we didn’t all come from a disfunctional Family?”
“I had a great childhood,” said Julian unexpectedly. He stopped and looked suspiciously at Flynn. “That camera is off, isn’t it?”
“Trust me,” said Flynn. “I, of all people, understand the need for privacy on occasion. Speak freely.”
Julian sniffed, only half-convinced, but carried on, glancing occasionally at the camera to make sure its crimson eye wasn’t glowing. His voice became clearer and warmer as he walked in memories of happier times.
“My elder brother Auric and I were always very close, which is unusual in most Families. Normally brothers only see each other as competitors for the inheritance and control of the Clan. There can only be one inheritor. Everyone else gets the shitty end of the stick. But Auric and I hit it off, right from the beginning. He raised me, much more than any nanny or tutor. In fact, most of the time it was us against them. We had a great childhood. Did everything together. Shared our toys. Don’t think we ever had a quarrel that lasted more than a few minutes.
“As we grew older, became teenagers, our parents tried to separate us. Auric was groomed to take over the Family on our father’s death. I was supposed to go into the military, to be discarded and forgotten, unless the unthinkable happened, and Auric died, and I had to be recalled to take his place. But we refused to be separated. We were still each other’s best friend, chosen companion, brothers by choice as well as blood. Even when I discovered I was an esper.
“Which came as something of a shock. Families guard their genetic histories very carefully, but somewhere along the line, someone slept with someone they shouldn’t have, and the esper inheritance went skinny-dipping in our gene pool. And emerged in me. I knew I couldn’t tell my parents. They’d have had me killed in a carefully arranged accident, rather than suffer the disgrace of an esper child. Espers are subhuman. Property. Always. But I knew I could tell Auric. He covered up for me, kept me alive when my shame made me feel like killing myself, and never once saw me as anything less than the brother I’d always been. When it became clear I needed training in how to use and hide my esp, he even tracked down the contacts that led me into the clone and esper underground.
“The only time we ever argued for real was when he fell in love with BB Chojiro. I knew there was something wrong with her even then, but I couldn’t put it into words. I thought I was just jealous of her closeness to Auric, so I put it aside and tried to be happy that she made him so happy. But in the end, we were only a small and minor House, and she was Clan Chojiro. To impress her Family, and prove his love for her, Auric went into the Arena to face the Masked Gladiator, and that bloody bastard killed him. He didn’t have to. He could have just given Auric an honorable wound, and let him walk away. But instead, he stuck his sword through Auric’s eye, just to show off his skill. And that was the end of my childhood.”
Evangeline squeezed Finlay’s hand. Julian didn’t know, must never know, that his friend and hero Finlay Campbell had been that Masked Gladiator.
“How do you feel about the toys here?” said Evangeline, just to be saying something.
“I can see the attractions of a place like this,” said Julian. “But it’s not for me. I put childhood things behind me after Auric died. I turned my back on my Family, and made the rebellion my life. I didn’t have time for distractions anymore. I made a good rebel. No mission was too dangerous, too impossible for me. And then I fell in love with BB Chojiro, and my life came to an end for a second time.
“I was so happy as a child. As though deep within me I knew it was the only happiness I would ever have.”
“That’s sad,” said Giles, unexpectedly. “And unnecessary. Nothing is ever really lost. The memories of good friends and good times are always there, never more than a thought away. In a sense, they never really stopped happening. Every moment you ever treasured, every friend you ever valued is still there, separated from us only by time; the past is still happening and always will be. It’s only we who have moved on. I won’t tell you about my childhood. It wouldn’t mean much to you. Things were very different nine hundred years ago. But I had two wonderful dogs, when I was a boy. Hound dogs. Marvelous trackers. I was never happier than when I was chasing through the woods with them, on the trail of a scent.
“They both died when I was ten years old. They developed growths. Nothing we could do. So I put them to sleep, rather than let them suffer. I still miss them. But I only have to close my eyes to be with them again, and I know that back in the past, a boy and his dogs are still scrambling through the woods in hot pursuit, happy as the day is long. I have no need for a place like this, steeped in false nostalgia and a need to hide from reality. This was a place for weak people.
“And now it’s a battleground for Shub’s creations. These aren’t toys, or treasured childhood playmates; they’re Furies in training. This whole world should be scorched and forgotten, a sick experiment that went horribly wrong.”
There was a long pause. “Well, thank you for sharing that with us, Deathstalker,” said Toby. “I just know we’ll all find that a great comfort in the days to come. I guess it’s my turn now. Personally, I think you’re all a bunch of softies. There isn’t a damn thing in my childhood that I miss.”
“All right,” said Evangeline. “Tell us about your no doubt appalling childhood. What terrible and twisted events turned you into the revolting person you are today?”
“Oh, I was born a brat,” Toby said cheerfully. “I just perfected it as I grew older. My dad died when I was very young. Mum ran away, rather than bow down to Uncle Gregor. He was a control freak, even then. I made life miserable for a long series of nannies, tutors, and armed guards, and ran riot at every school they sent me to. Never had any friends. Didn’t miss them. Didn’t care for Bruin Bear and his adventures either—soppy things. I was much more interested in the real world, and how to mess with its collective head to my own advantage.
“This led, naturally, to an interest in politics. I’d always had a special affinity for dirty tricks and double-dealing. All of which came in very handy during my career as a PR flack, and now a journalist. I get to be obnoxious, intrude into people’s private lives, and mess with billions of people’s heads every time I put out a broadcast. Life is good. Or at least it was, until I ended up being shifted from one war zone to another. When I said I wanted to cover exciting events, I didn’t mean I wanted to be part of them.”
“Don’t you ever miss your real parents?” said Evangeline. “The ones you never knew?”
“No,” said Toby flatly. “I didn’t need them. I made my own life. I’ve never needed anyone. Except Flynn, of course. Someone’s got to point the camera in the right direction. Tell us about your childhood, Flynn. Now that should be a story worth hearing.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” said Flynn. “But I had a perfectly happy, perfectly normal childhood. No great traumas, no great losses. I love what they tried to do here. A place where everyone could be happy. It must have been a wonderful world. Before Shub came.”
“What do you toys make of all this?” said Finlay. “I don’t suppose you ever had a childhood. Unless it was your lives before Shub came. Do you remember anything of that time?”
The toys looked at each other, and in the end it was Halloweenie who spoke. He was sitting at Julian’s feet, curled up into a bony ball, staring at the flames in the fire. “We all remember something of our lives as just toys. We were programmed to forget nothing, so the memories are still there. But our memories only have meaning from the point Shub came and woke us from our sle
ep with a poisoned kiss. The Furies gave us intelligence, wrapped in Shub programming. They gave us free will and then tried to tell us what to do with it.
“None of us had a childhood. We were born fully formed into consciousness. I’m a Boy, but I don’t really know what that means. We understand so little about what it means to be alive. All we have to base our lives on is the characters we were created to be. So we never know if we’re the kind of person we are because we chose to be, or if we’re just following our old programming. Life is still very much a mystery to us. It’s all so new, so frightening. Having to decide everything for ourselves. And emotions are so hard . . . Take love, for instance. We think we know what it means, but we have so little to compare it against. Hatred is easier to understand. And fear. Maybe that’s why so many toys are bad, rather than good. Bad’s easier.”
“But some of us didn’t like what it did to us,” said Poogie. “Before Shub came, we were not aware, and knew nothing of sin. Shub took advantage of our innocence. We were born into blood and suffering and murder, and some of us never got over it. Revenge filled us to overflowing, and humans were such easy prey. We were born damned. But some of us have learned to reach for redemption.”
The Sea Goat belched, and picked bits of marshmallow from his large, blocky teeth. “And some of us have learned to be insufferably pretentious. We are what we always were, only more so. I like being the Sea Goat. If I didn’t exist, it would be necessary to invent me, so you could disapprove of me. I annoy, therefore I am. And if anyone doesn’t like it, tough. Right, Bear?”
“Can’t take you anywhere, can I?” said Bruin Bear. “You’ll have to excuse my friend. He and I were stars when we were toys, loved by all, and I don’t think he ever got over it. I find humans fascinating. You have so much potential. And we have so much to live up to. You are our creators, not Shub. If we could only make all toys see that, the war would end tomorrow. It would be a terrible thing if all our gift of life taught us was how to kill and destroy. Now, may I suggest we get what rest we can. Soon enough we’ll have to go back on board ship and sleep. Assuming nothing goes wrong, we should reach the Forest tomorrow evening. Then we’ll find Vincent Harker, the Red Man. And who knows what will happen then.”