Deathstalker War

by Simon R. Green

  They all sat silently around the fire, human and toy, thinking their own thoughts. It was a night for confessions, but not everyone had said all they could have. They all had secrets, some big and some small, that could not be revealed yet. If only because the truth would cause so much suffering.

  Evangeline leaned against Finlay and fought down the urge to tell him the real reason she was here with him. It wasn’t that long ago she’d gone to the leaders of the underground and asked to be made ambassador to the new rebels, even though it meant leaving Finlay. She’d felt an overpowering need to get away, to be her own woman, free from the pressures of all those who expected things from her. Even Finlay. But like so many things in her short life, it had all gone wrong. Penny DeCarlo had been her first friend. Hired by Gregor Shreck to prepare his new Evangeline for public appearances, Penny had taught her she was still a human being, even if she was a clone. Taught her pride and self-respect. And even introduced her to the clone and esper underground. Penny DeCarlo, a secret rogue esper, caught and imprisoned in Silo Nine. Wormboy Hell.

  Evangeline had tried to rescue her when the underground stormed Silo Nine, but in the chaos and confusion of Dram’s treachery, she never found Penny, and had to leave without her. But Gregor Shreck found her. He had money and influence, and a desperate need to bring his clone daughter back under his control. So he had Penny released into his custody, and waited for the chance to let Evangeline know. His terms were simple—return to him or Penny would suffer and die. Evangeline came close to despair. She couldn’t go back to her father’s perverted idea of love. She would rather die. But she couldn’t abandon the woman who taught her what it was to be human.

  She couldn’t tell the underground’s ruling Council. She would be seen as compromised, a possible security risk. And she couldn’t tell Finlay. He must never know that the Shreck had made a habit of bedding his daughter. Finlay would go insane with rage, and throw away everything to launch a solo attack on the Shreck and his forces. A fight even the Masked Gladiator couldn’t hope to win.

  So Evangeline told no one, and for a while went quietly crazy trying to figure out what to do for the best. In the end, all she could decide was not to decide. She ran away from her responsibilities and joined the mission to Shannon’s World. That way she’d be out of touch with everyone, and give herself time to think. Gregor wouldn’t hurt Penny while she was gone. There’d be no point, with no way to let Evangeline know. Hopefully, by the time this mission was over, Evangeline would have worked out an answer. If not, she’d have to turn to Finlay. And hope by some miracle he could save her from Hell one more time. She looked at him, sitting quietly beside her, strong and solid and reassuring, and a sudden warmth flowed through her. She said his name, and when he turned to look at her, she kissed him.

  This fascinated the toys. Poogie and Halloweenie stood up to get a better look.

  “What on earth are they doing?” said Poogie in a hushed voice.

  “I don’t know,” said Halloweenie. “Do you suppose it hurts?”

  “Beats me, but they’re pulling some really funny faces.”

  “I think it’s time you kids were in bed,” said Toby.

  The humans all had some kind of smile when Finlay and Evangeline finally broke apart. They all sat for a while in companionable silence, watching the flames die down in the fire, trying to work up the energy to get up and go to bed. And then Giles surprised them all by speaking again.

  “The Empire was a wonderful place to be when I was a child. You felt you could grow up to be anyone, do anything. The possibilities seemed endless. You could make your mark in a thousand ways, be revered by a thousand worlds. I became the first Warrior Prime, feted and adored. It was a time of wonders and marvels . . . and I helped to bring it all to an end, when I activated the Darkvoid Device. I look at what the Empire’s become now, and I hardly recognize it. I hardly recognize myself. I’m not the man I thought I’d grow up to be.”

  “I suppose that’s true of all of us,” said Finlay. “I look at my life, and I wonder how the hell did I get here from there. We all have dreams, as children, but mostly they get beaten out of us as we grow older.”

  “Perhaps that’s the saddest change of all,” said Giles. “These days, even dreams are forbidden. It’s a strange Empire I’ve come back to. Clones, espers, Hadenmen, Wampyr. Toys that think and care. It’s hard to be sure what’s really human anymore. Among so many strange forms of life, how easy it would be to lose our Humanity forever.”

  “We haven’t lost anything,” said Julian. “Except possibly our limitations. You have strange abilities yourself, Deathstalker. Does that make you any less human?”

  “I don’t know,” said Giles. “I don’t know.”

  They set off early the next day. The sound of warfare in the distance was louder, more distinct, more threatening. The smiley face on the sun seemed openly mocking. The humans and the toys kept a careful watch. The trees on the Riverbanks were growing thicker, darker. Anything could be hiding in them, or behind them. There was a constant feeling of being watched by unseen eyes. The only sound apart from the distant thunder was the steady quiet chugging of the Merry Mrs. Trusspot. She still hadn’t spoken, but somewhen during the night, two huge watchful eyes had opened on either side of her bow.

  Julian stayed in his cabin. His various pains had grown worse during the night, beyond anything the autodoc’s limited drugs could deal with. Toby overrode the doc’s safety limits, to allow for larger doses, but it didn’t help much. Julian ended up curled up on the floor in a corner of his cabin, because the swaying of the hammock hurt him too much. Sometimes, when the pain grew so bad it reduced him to helpless tears, he would call out for Finlay, and he would go and sit with Julian for a while. Afterward, he’d emerge from the cabin with frustrated tears in his eyes, and his hands clenched into fists, furious at his inability to help. He’d rescued Julian from the Empire’s interrogators, but he couldn’t rescue the young esper from this. He tried picking fights with the Deathstalker, over what he’d done to Julian, but the old man refused to be drawn. He couldn’t repeat his jump-start; the strain would probably kill the weakened esper. He’d done all he could, and that was an end to it as far as he was concerned. Evangeline went in to Julian a few times, but he didn’t want her. Poogie went in then, and cuddled the human in his soft arms. It helped, sometimes.

  The atmosphere on the deck grew strained. Everyone felt angry, for conflicting reasons. Julian was distracting them, at a time when they needed most to concentrate on their mission. Instead of the support he’d promised, the esper was becoming a liability. But no one wanted to say that out loud. Conversations became short and sharp. Bruin Bear tried to be cheerful and optimistic, until even the Sea Goat told him to shut the hell up. They were all coming to the same, unspoken, thought. That the man who had already saved them twice was probably dying, and there was nothing they could do. Except hope he died soon, for his sake and theirs. So they leaned on the guardrails, looking out at the River and the passing trees, and tried not to hear the sounds coming from the esper’s cabin.

  The toys were the most distressed. Another human was dying, because of toys. Even Anything became quieter and less argumentative. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat and Halloweenie began taking turns sitting outside the door to Julian’s cabin, so they’d be there if he called for anything. As though daring Death to get past them.

  About midmorning, they rounded another long curve in the River, and found the trees falling suddenly away on one side to reveal a modern city. Or, at least, a replica of a city. There were great towers and buildings rearing up into the sky, but all of them were one-dimensional wooden flats. Brightly colored, incredibly detailed fakes. It looked fairly convincing, until you got up close. And it was only then that the humans saw what a wreck the place was. Jagged holes appeared in most of the walls, as though something heavy had smashed through them. There were cracks and gaping rents everywhere, and some traces of what looked like fire damage. Th
e fake city was about fifty blocks square, shining brightly in the sun. There was no sign of life anywhere. The Merry Mrs. Trusspot slowed her approach, and everyone crowded to one side of the boat for a better look.

  “What is this place?” said Finlay. “Who lives here?”

  “No one lives here,” said Bruin Bear. “It’s just another playground.”

  “Looks like they play rough,” said Giles.

  “Oh, they do,” said the Sea Goat. “The bastards. This is the stamping ground of the superpeople. Superheroes and supervillains, fighting their eternal battles. Tends to be rather hard on the surroundings, so they were designed to be easily and quickly replaced, in time for the next fight. They used to put on a show for the human patrons; displays of strength and speed and flight, every hour, regular as clockwork. See the heroes beat the villains all about the town; see the buildings crumble and the walls come tumbling down. It was very popular. Until the superpeople became intelligent and aware. And realized they’d spent their entire existence jumping through hoops for Humanity’s entertainment. They were the most human of the toys here, so perhaps they took it the hardest. Down-River, we were fishing bits of bodies out of the waters for weeks afterward.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Finlay. “Didn’t any of the heroes fight the villains to protect the humans? I mean, they were heroes, like you and the Bear.”

  “They were the superpeople,” said the Sea Goat, his large upper lip curling. “And they didn’t give a damn for mere unpowered humans. After the slaughter was over, they went back to doing the only thing that interested them. Fighting their endless bloody battles, to see who was stronger, faster, or the better flier. They’ve never taken part in the war. I think they believe it’s beneath them. And I’ll tell you something else. For as long as Toystown has been a refuge and a sanctuary, we’ve never had one superperson come to us, seeking redemption or forgiveness for all the blood they spilled. Bastards.”

  “Is it dangerous here?” said Evangeline.

  “Hell yes,” said Bruin Bear. “They hate the thought that inferior Humanity created them. The only thing they’d interrupt their contests for is a chance to kill some more humans.”

  “Then why are we slowing down?” said Toby.

  “Well, sweeties,” said a familiar voice behind them, “I’m rather afraid we need more fuel. I mean, darlings, you wouldn’t believe how much wood it takes to keep our boilers running.” They turned around, and there was the Captain, balancing on his two peg legs and looking decidedly upset. The parrot dozed on his shoulder, muttering obscenities to itself. The Captain tried an ingratiating smile. “We need more wood, sweeties, and this is our last chance to stock up before we hit the Forest. And believe you me, we don’t want to stop in the Forest for more wood. Not if you like your head in the general vicinity of your shoulders.”

  “All right,” said the Bear. “Pull us in to the side, and we’ll gather as much as we can. They’ll never miss a few flats. But be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. This is a bad place, people.”

  He strode off with the Sea Goat to organize some axes. The Captain smiled nervously in all directions, then hurried back to his bridge. The humans looked at each other uncertainly.

  “I always liked superheroes,” said Finlay. “I was a big fan, when I was a kid. You could always depend on super-heroes to save the day.”

  “That was then, this is now,” said Anything. He’d changed into his best fighting shape, with spiked knuckles and elbows and razor-edged hands. “When they were made intelligent, the superpeople realized that though they looked human, they could never be human. I think it drove a lot of them crazy. Serves them right. Why pine to be human, when you could be more than human, like the Furies? They were the real superpeople.”

  “Why are you here, machine?” said Giles. “You’ve made it clear enough you don’t care for humans.”

  “I want an end to the threat of the Red Man and his army,” said Anything. “And you appear to be the best bet for that. But when it’s all over, and you’re gone, and the planet is ours again, trust me—I won’t shed a single tear to be shot of you all. This is our world now, not yours.”

  And he turned and stalked away, the sun gleaming brightly on his silver body.

  “I hope it rains, and he rusts,” said Toby.

  The Merry Mrs. Trusspot slipped in beside the Riverbank, as close to the fake city as she could get, and then shut her engines down to the faintest murmur. No sense in drawing anyone’s attention. Anything lowered a gangplank, and the party went ashore, holding their axes more like weapons than cutting tools. At the toys’ insistence, they stood and listened for a while. In the distance, there was the sound of something that might have been fighting, but it seemed comfortably far away. Finlay and Giles, Toby and Flynn set about hauling in broken flats and parts of fallen buildings, while the toys labored to cut them into manageable sizes. The sound of steel cutting into wood seemed dangerously loud in the quiet.

  It was hard and sweaty work for the humans. The Goat and the Bear labored tirelessly, torn between the need for speed, and their desire not to show the humans up too much. Anything didn’t give a damn. He stomped back and forth, carrying the heaviest weights he could find, his servomechanisms barely whining. Poogie’s cartoony hands had trouble grasping the axes, so he worked beside the humans, helping them carry awkward shapes and sizes. Halooweenie busied himself carrying cold drinks from the ship to the humans.

  Giles and Finlay worked pretty much in silence, apart from the occasional grunted order. This wasn’t their kind of work, but they couldn’t spare the breath for complaints. Unlike Toby. They worked for the best part of an hour, piling up chopped wood and hauling it on board, and then the feeling of being watched grew stronger. People began looking suddenly over their shoulders, or turning around suddenly. They tried to work faster. This was a bad place, and all the humans could feel it now. The Sea Goat stopped suddenly, straightened up from his work, and looked out into the city, his great pointed ears upright and quivering. Bruin Bear moved in beside him.

  “What is it?” he said quietly.

  “It’s the battle,” said the Goat. “It’s moving this way. The superpeople are coming.”

  “Right, that’s it,” said the Bear. “Everyone grab as much as you can carry. We’re leaving.”

  “We can’t,” said Anything. “We don’t have enough wood yet.”

  “We do if we’re careful,” said the Bear. “Now for once in your life, don’t argue. There isn’t time. They could be here any minute.”

  They all carried as much wood as they could back to the ship, then formed a human chain for the last few pieces. Merry Mrs. Trusspot fired up her engines, vented steam as quietly as she could, and waited for everyone to get back on board. They could all hear the superpeople now. There were shouts and cries, crashing and tearing sounds, and what sounded like energy discharges. The humans saw the increasing tension in the toys, and tried to move faster. Finally Bruin Bear raised his paw for them to stop.

  “That’s it. Time to go.”

  “We need more,” protested Poogie.

  “We’ll manage.”

  “Just let me get one last piece!”

  And Poogie the Friendly Critter, eager to help as always, went charging down the gangway to get the last heavy piece of wood he’d dragged in. Anything started to go after him to help, but the Bear made him wait at the top of the gangway. And then the superpeople came.

  They came flying through the sky in their brightly colored costumes, swooping and diving like technicolor angels. They were bright and gaudy and so much larger-than-life, with their long limbs and huge muscles. They flew at each other, fighting with great crashing blows that sent them careening through the flats that made up the fake city. They fired energy blasts from their hands and eyes, the crackling energies rebounding from personal force shields. They flew so high, far above the concerns of mere humanity, and took no notice at all of the humans and toys below them. They were en
gaged in their own godlike business, and everything and everyone else was less than dust beneath their garish boots.

  “They don’t even know we’re here,” said Toby quietly. “They don’t give a damn. Flynn, tell me you’re getting this.”

  “As best I can, chief. Half of them are moving too fast for my camera to focus.”

  “I know them,” said Finlay. “I remember them.” And he named the flashing figures for his companions, as a bird-watcher might point out sightings of special interest.

  There the Mystery Avenger swapped punches with the Bloodred Claw. Heatstroke and Duo Devil clashed in bursts of lightning. Ms. Fate and Ms. Retaliator soared in savage attacks against the Wild Whirlwind Brothers. There were the Double Danger twins, and the Lethal Lightning and the Miracle Maniac. There were reds and blues, gold and silver, flapping capes and hooded cowls. All sorts of emblems and designs and clashing colors. They flew and fought with superhuman speed and savagery, and the city shattered around them.

  Finlay wondered if they ever stopped to rebuild, and if not, where the superpeople would go when there was no more city to destroy. He visualized them crashing through Toystown, burying helpless toys under falling rubble, and his hand went to the disrupter at his side. Bruin Bear put a paw on his hand, and shook his head. Finlay understood. They couldn’t afford to draw attention to themselves.

  Poogie got his piece of wood to the bottom of the gangplank, and then stopped and looked back at the super-people, to see how close they were. And there he froze, held rooted to the spot by a spectacle of savagery so much greater than he was. Everyone shouted at him from the ship, but he didn’t hear them. Finlay started down the gangplank, but Anything raced past him, moving inhumanly fast. He reached the bottom, grabbed Poogie by the shoulder, and shook him roughly. The light came back into Poogie’s eyes, and he dropped his piece of wood and started up the gangway.