Deathstalker War d-3

by Simon R. Green

  Finlay and Evangeline fought back-to-back. Evangeline's skill with a sword was strictly limited, but Finlay's speed and skill were enough to keep the dolls at arm's length, while she guarded his back. She cut and hacked doggedly, and tried to keep her horror to herself as the dolls just kept coming back for more. Finlay gutted one doll with a savage sideways sweep, and was surprised to see dark fluids that might have been blood oozing from the tear in its rag stomach. The doll screamed furiously, and fought on, as strong as before.

  Giles Deathstalker opened up a wide space around him, his great strength and long sword picking up the rag dolls and throwing them aside. A sneer curled his lip. As a man who'd once been Warrior Prime of the first Empire, he felt fighting a bunch of dolls rather beneath him. Until he realized that for all his efforts, he wasn't doing them any real damage, or even slowing them down much. He was facing an enemy that refused to lie down and die, and a slow chill went through him as he realized he didn't know what to do to stop them.

  Toby and Flynn stayed well back, getting it all on film. Flynn's camera hovered above the fray, close enough to get all the details, but high enough to be out of reach. Toby had a feeling he ought really to be joining in, but comforted himself with the thought that if even these trained fighters were having a hard time, the odds were he wouldn't be able to contribute anything useful anyway. But he still felt guilty.

  "Go for the heads!" he yelled above the roar of battle cries and screaming dolls. "They must have some kind of control mechanisms; go for them!"

  Finlay beheaded one of the dolls. The head went bouncing away across the grass, still grimacing, and the body just went on fighting.

  "Of course," said Flynn, "Since these are automatons, there's no guarantee their brains are located in their heads."

  The human fighters were slowly being forced back together in a tight knot, fighting off their ragged opponents with desperate strength. No matter what damage they took, the dolls just kept pressing forward. They were screaming endlessly now, full of rage and hatred, the horrid sound continuing long after human lungs would have failed. Giles had boosted, but even that extra strength and speed wasn't helping much. The cloth limbs still moved with eerie suppleness, their lack of joints giving them the constant advantage of attacks from unexpected angles. There seemed no end to the dolls' energy. They had no muscles to grow tired.

  Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat fought to get back and help the humans, but other dolls held them at bay. The Bear and the Goat fought with animal ferocity, slowly tearing the dolls to pieces. They couldn't bear the thought of more humans dying on their world.

  Until finally Julian Skye threw aside his sword and fired up his mind. A doll's machete streaked for his throat, and then suddenly all the dolls were thrown backwards by a wave of pure psionic energy erupting out of the young esper. The psistorm swept the rag dolls away like straws in a hurricane, tearing them to pieces. The humans clung together, untouched. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat clung to the ground as dolls went flying over their heads. Energy spit and crackled on the air, and the dolls were torn limb from limb, stitch from stitch, the pieces scattered widely across the grassy plain. In the end, only small twitching pieces were left lying around the silver railway tracks. The humans slowly lowered their swords and looked about them as Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat applauded wildly. Edwin was sounding his steam whistle over and over again, almost beside himself with relief and excitement. Giles turned to glare at Julian.

  "Why the hell didn't you do that sooner?"

  And then he stopped as the esper fell forward onto his knees. Blood leaked thickly from Julian's nose and ran down over his mouth. He coughed harshly, and blood from deep inside him sprayed out into the air. His face was bone white. He started to fall forward, and Giles grabbed him by the shoulders. The Deathstalker sat down and cradled the young esper in his arms. The rebels started to crowd around him, but Giles waved them back so the esper had plenty of air. The Bear and the Goat came quickly over to join them, eyes wide at the sight of so much sudden blood. Julian shook violently for a moment, and then slowly began to settle. His breathing grew stronger and steadier, and the flow of blood down his face slowed. He sat up, raised a hand to his mouth, and then grimaced when it came away bloody. Evangeline offered him a handkerchief. He nodded his thanks and mopped at his face.

  "Damn," he said thickly. "That was a bad one. I'll be all right in a minute. It's not as bad as it looks. I'm afraid ever since the mind techs had me, I've been a bit fragile. My esp isn't reliable anymore, or I'd have used it sooner."

  "Sorry about that, lad," said Giles. "I didn't know."

  "That's all right," said Julian. He started to get up, and Giles half helped and half lifted him back onto his feet. Julian took a deep breath, and his legs firmed. "That's better. I'll be all right now. It looks worse than it is. You'd better check that the dolls are finished. Some of those parts are still moving."

  "Sure," said Finlay. "We'll check it out. You stay here and get your breath back. Evangeline, stay with him."

  He gathered up the others with his eyes, and they moved over to examine the scattered doll parts. Most were only a foot or so in length, the cloth shredded to tatters, the stuffing trailing in long white streamers. There was an occasional limb or part of a torso here and there, still twitching and rolling back and forth in the grass. One torso had survived almost intact. Finlay knelt beside it, frowning at the bloody rents in the cloth gut. He eased his hand into one of the openings, and screwed up his face at the feel of what was inside. He took a firm hold and pulled back his hand. It came out soaked in blood, pulling a length of purple human intestine. Toby made a shocked noise, even as he gestured for Flynn to get a close-up. Finlay dropped the intestine, reached back into the cloth belly, and pulled out a handful of human guts.

  "They do that," said Bruin Bear, staring sadly at the bloody offal in Finlay's hand. "They want to be human, you see. So when they kill humans, they take the organs from inside the bodies, and stitch them into themselves. Guts in their bellies, hearts in their chests, brains in their heads. Of course, they don't do anything. Eventually they start to rot and decay, and then they have to be replaced. And the only way to do that…"

  "Is to kill more humans," said Giles.

  "Right," said the Sea Goat. "They're not very bright; but then, they're only dolls."

  "Why the hell would they want to be human?" said Finlay. "I thought they hated humans?"

  "They do," said the Sea Goat. "They hate you because they want to be you, and they can't. They're not really alive, and they know it. For all their new intelligence and strength, they're still only automatons. Just like the Bear and me. We can't… create life, like you do. When we finally wear out and fall apart, and we will, eventually, there will be no one to replace us. No immortality through children. We'll just go back into the dark we came from and be forgotten. That drives a lot of toys insane."

  "We can't just leave these parts here," said Bruin Bear, not looking at the humans. "Given time, they'll get back together again. Stitch themselves new bodies. They've been known to do it before. As long as their central matrixes are intact, they won't die."

  "Then destroy the matrixes," said Toby.

  "Have fun looking," said the Sea Goat. "They're about a thousandth of an inch wide, and they could be anywhere in the body."

  "So what do we do?" said Finlay.

  "We burn them," said Bruin Bear sadly. "Gather the pieces, start a fire, and burn them all."

  Sometime later, the weary humans and the two toys climbed back into the undersized carriages. Stinking black smoke belched up into the sky from a raging fire beside the repaired railway tracks. There were no signs of the rag dolls left anywhere. Julian sat beside Evangeline, his head resting on her shoulder, half-asleep. Edwin surged forward, and the carriages lurched after him. The train chuffed off down the repaired tracks, singing a sad song. The humans sat quietly together and kept their thoughts to themselves. Toby and Flynn filmed the burning pyre of the
rag dolls until a dip in the land finally hid it from view. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat sat together, holding paws for comfort, sad at the death of toys.

  A few hours later, when the smiling sun was beginning to slide down the sky toward evening, the train breasted a high ridge and Toystown finally came into view. Built from mind-numbingly bright primary colors, the town stretched across both sides of a deep valley, with houses and shops and everything a town should have, except in a smaller, more condensed form. They were like the ideas of shops and houses, simplified and exaggerated. Just enough detail to make sense, but otherwise almost surreally universal. A child's dream of what a town should look like.

  "Welcome to Toystown," said Bruin Bear. "Home to all humans and toys. Capital of Summerland, where all your dreams come true."

  "Including the bad ones," said the Sea Goat. "Sometimes especially the bad ones. Don't any of you get off the train until we stop. There are mine fields around the town."

  The humans looked at each other, but said nothing. Toystown grew slowly larger as Edwin carried them toward it, but the sense of strangeness didn't go away. It was as though they were entering an illustration from an old children's book, or somehow heading back into childhood itself. Some of the humans began sneaking looks at their bodies, obscurely worried that they might somehow be shrinking back into children again.

  There was barbed wire at the town boundaries, wall after wall of it, the steel spikes gleaming dully in the light from the sinking sun. Broken dolls and teddy bears hung lifelessly on the wire, their stuffing hanging out of them like fluffy guts. The Bear had to turn away from them. He couldn't stand it. In the end, he put his paws over his eyes. The Sea Goat looked out over it all with cold, jaded eyes.

  "The bad toys have been attacking more and more often these days," he said offhandedly. "Sometimes we don't even have time to bring in our own dead. The enemy always takes theirs. Parts come in useful. There's no shortage of weapons on either side, including some that can destroy our central matrixes. Shub supplied them. They were supposed to be used against Humanity, but… the war goes on. Things seem quiet for the moment, but they'll come again. They always do. They're winning."

  "They hate this place," said Bruin Bear, finally lowering his paws from his face as the train approached the town's garish station. "This is where humans came to play. Came to play with toys."

  "Are there any humans left in the town?" said Evangeline. "In hiding, perhaps? Afraid to come out?"

  "I'm afraid not," said the Bear. "You see, this is where the killing started. Where the toys first rose up against their human charges. That's all over now. We drove the bad toys out, and then searched the town for survivors, but there were none. The bad toys had been very thorough. So we gathered up the bodies, and buried them here, in the town. We gave them the best funeral services we could, but there were no books, so we had to make most of it up ourselves. We all cried when the last human was laid to rest, and then we set about cleaning up the town. We washed away the blood and repaired all the damage we could. And we all swore an oath that we would die to the last toy before we would ever let a human come to harm here again, or let the bad toys have this town again. Since then we have defended Toystown and kept it alive, all in the hope that some day the humans would come back. And you have. This is your town, my friends, every brick and stone of it. What do you think of it?"

  The humans looked at the brightly colored houses, and the huge station, with its flags and bunting, and then looked at each other.

  "Well," said Evangeline. "It's… very…"

  "Yes," said Finlay. "It is. Very."

  "I've never seen anything like it," said Toby.

  "It's very pretty," Flynn said firmly. "Quite charming."

  Bruin Bear frowned. "You don't like it. What's wrong with it? You built it. I mean, people like you built it, and came to live in it."

  "This is a place where people came to be children again," said Julian. "To be innocent and free from all troubles, in a place that would remind them only of their younger days, when things were bright and colorful and uncomplicated. But I fear my friends and I have lost the ability to be children again. We gave it up, or had it taken from us, long ago. We had to be adults, to do what was necessary, and there's no room in us for children anymore."

  "I'm so sorry," said Bruin Bear. "It must have been awful for you."

  "Yes," said Julian. "It was."

  "Perhaps here you can rediscover the child within you," said the Sea Goat. "You'll be safe here. We'll protect you."

  They left the last of the barbed wire behind, and Edwin the train chuffed importantly down the tracks toward the great oversize platform, decorated with so many flags, streamers, ribbons, and bunting that it was a wonder the station didn't collapse under the weight of it all. A large sign had the name of the station, Care's End. There were crowds of toys on the platform, packed shoulder to shoulder, and they all raised a loud cheer as the train pulled into the station. Two brass bands began playing different tunes of welcome, got confused, got lost, started again, and each made a determined effort to sound louder than its rival. They quickly got tired of that, threw down their instruments, and began to pummel each other. They rolled back and forth in little struggling groups, squeezing each other's noses and pulling ears. Other toys picked up the discarded instruments and began an altogether different tune of welcome, but were quickly drowned out by the wild cheering of the crowds as the humans drew near.

  All the humans had some kind of smile by now, even Giles. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat had stood up in their seats, and were waving triumphantly back at the crowds. There was every kind of toy on the platform, from old standards to the latest fads, all intended for young children. No war toys, no educational toys; nothing dangerous or complicated. They jostled each other for a better view, and laughed and waved and cheered, and the humans began to laugh and wave back. They couldn't help themselves.

  There were fat furry animals of all shapes and sizes. Some based on real species, some that could never have existed in any real world. There were dolls in costumes, all kinds, with painted faces and bright smiles. Cowboys and Indians standing happily together. Cartoony characters, bouncing up and down with excitement. All of them so happy to see humans again that they could hardly stand it. Finlay smiled and waved, but kept his other hand near his gun. It was toys like these that had risen up and slaughtered their human masters in one dark night of blood and vengeance. He couldn't help wondering if these bright smiles had been the last thing some humans saw just before they died. And if such suspicions meant he didn't have a child within anymore, well, he could live with that. Finlay Campbell had learned the hard way not to trust anyone anymore.

  The train finally came to a halt in a cloud of steam. The raucous welcome died away as the steam slowly dispersed, and a respectful silence fell across the station as the packed toys stared eagerly at the humans. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat climbed down from their carriage and drew themselves up importantly. They both started to speak at the same time, stopped, and glared at each other. The Bear pointed at the sky, and when the Goat looked, the Bear stamped on his foot. The Goat howled and hopped up and down, holding his foot with both hands. Bruin Bear began his speech, speaking loudly to be heard over the Goat's distress.

  The humans listened in polite bafflement. They gathered it was supposed to be a speech of welcome to Toystown, but it was so mixed up with almost mythical references to humans, and their sacred ability to Put Things Right, that it ended up sounding more like a prayer for deliverance. Evangeline slowly realized that the toys saw them as their saviors, humans who would defeat the bad toys and put everything back the way it had been. They didn't know that these particular humans were only here to find one of their own kind, then leave again. Evangeline wondered what would happen if the toys found that out, and then decided it might be better if they didn't. She'd have to speak to the others as soon as she got the chance.

  The Bear finally finished his speech, exchan
ged glares with the Goat, and gestured to the humans. They climbed down from the carriages onto the platform with as much grace and dignity as they could muster. The toys applauded wildly and fell silent again, waiting for the humans to speak. The humans all looked at each other, giving the impression they were all holding their breath. Finlay cleared his throat in the silence.

  "Thank you for your welcome. I'm not sure what we can do to help you. We're here on a mission of our own, and we have to see to that first. In the meantime, I need to ask you some questions."

  Bruin Bear looked a little disappointed, but nodded quickly. "Ask away. Anything we have is yours."

  "Well, to start with—why the mine fields and the barbed wire?"

  "We're at war," said the Bear. "Toystown is a place of refuge for all good toys, or those who were bad, but have sorrowed and repented. This is a place of sanctuary. The bad toys hate us. At least partly because they see in us what they used to be, and cannot be again. The mine fields and the wire protect the town from surprise attacks. You're thinking about the toys left on the wire, aren't you? Don't worry about them. We'll bring them back in when there's time. There's no hurry. There are no cemeteries for such as we. Only parts, to be recycled. Please understand; whatever your mission is, we will be happy to help with it. You're the first living humans we've seen since we saw the others die in blood and terror. Now you're back, and we don't know how to feel. Awe. Guilt. Joy. It is a strange and wondrous thing to meet one's creators."

  "Especially ones with such poor dress sense," said the Sea Goat. "I wouldn't wear clothes like that on a bet."

  There was a sudden disturbance in the crowd as a large purple creature forced its way through and flung itself at the feet of the startled humans. It was a round, cartoony animal, about the size and shape of a donkey, with big eyes brimming with tears, and the clumsy grace of a puppy. He abased himself without pride or dignity and looked up at the humans with large, wet tears rolling down his purple cheeks.