Deathstalker War

by Simon R. Green

  And up above them, Ms. Fate hit the Miracle Maniac with a blast of lightning from her eyes. He was thrown back against a tall wooden flat pretending to be a tower block. It cracked under the impact, overbalanced and fell backwards, crashing to the ground. The first Poogie and Anything knew was when its shadow fell across them. They stopped and looked up, and saw its huge weight descending upon them. Poogie screamed. There was no time to run. Anything picked up the Friendly Critter and with one great heave threw him up onto the ship’s deck. And the great wooden flat came slamming down on Anything like the hammer of God.

  Everyone rushed down the gangplank. Finlay covered them with drawn disrupter as Giles used all his boosted strength to lift one end of the massive wooden flat. Toby and Flynn ducked underneath it and dragged Anything out. The Bear and the Goat helped carry him back on board ship. Finlay backed up the gangplank, gun at the ready, but none of the superpeople dueling above so much as looked down.

  They laid Anything out on the deck, then stood helplessly over him, not knowing what to do. His body had reverted to a simple humanoid shape, and his metal was cracked in a hundred places. One side of his head had broken open. Dimming lights came and went in the exposed workings of his mind, like drifting thoughts. Poogie knelt beside him, crying. Halloweenie patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, silent for once in the presence of death. Anything stared up at the sky.

  “I always knew humans would be the death of me. I should never have come on this mission.”

  “Don’t die,” said Poogie. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Not like I have a choice. You go on, Poogie. Find the Red Man. Kick his ass. And don’t take any shit from these humans. Get them out of here. I don’t want them here. And someone get this damn light out of my eyes.”

  Bruin Bear reached for something to shade him, and then stopped as he realized Anything was dead. Poogie picked the metal man up and held him in his arms, rocking back and forth, and the tears he cried were just as real as any human’s. Flynn stopped filming.

  And up in the sky, the superpeople fought on, uncaring of the lesser beings below.

  The ship chugged on through the day, and the sounds of war grew louder. They could almost make out now the individual explosions that made up the never-ending thunder. There was smoke in the air, too, gradually darkening the daylight till it seemed evening had come early. The humans and the toys watched from different sides of the deck. They’d been keeping themselves separate since Anything’s death.

  The steamer pressed on, slowing slightly as wreckage began to appear in the dark waters of the River. And then there were bodies of toys floating past the ship, and bits of toys. So many dead they were beyond counting. Trees burned on both sides of the River, dark smoke billowing up into the false evening sky. Some patches were already burnt-out, dead trees in a dead landscape of rutted earth and trenches and bomb craters. Bright splashes of color lit up the sky in vivid moments, the flash of explosives and the tumbling stars of falling flares. The toys grew restless. The Sea Goat stared straight ahead, eyes wide and nostrils flared, as though deep within him his Shub programming was struggling to resurface. Bruin Bear held the Goat’s hand with his paw as hard as he could. Poogie had curled into a ball, hiding his eyes as he sought to hide from old memories of blood and death. Halloweenie sat guard at Julian’s door and would not move.

  And then suddenly the war was all around them. Armies of toys covered both banks, running and shouting and fighting with boundless strength and fury. They were armed with all kinds of weapons, from crudely beaten blades to energy weapons. Grenades arced through the air, sending earth and broken toys flying through the air. Hand-to-hand combat broke out everywhere, toy fighting toy, with no sense of strategy. It was just chaos, a sprawling mess of death and destruction. The humans and the toys on the steamer ducked as rockets roared over their heads, exploding on the opposite banks.

  “Where the hell did they get all these weapons from?” said Finlay, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

  “From Shub,” said the Sea Goat, still staring out into the chaos with unblinking eyes. “We were supposed to use them against you. And some we made ourselves. Shub gave us that knowledge, too.”

  “Can you tell who’s winning?” said Toby. “The good toys or the bad toys?”

  “No one’s winning here,” said Bruin Bear. “They’re just dying.”

  And at that moment, as though the warring toys had only just noticed them, the armies on both sides of the River opened fire on the paddle steamer. The waters erupted as bombs and grenades fell short, showering the deck with water. The humans and the toys had to cling to the guardrails to avoid being swept away. Energy beams shot out of the murk, piercing the ship’s sides in a dozen places. The deck shuddered underfoot as the Merry Mrs. Trusspot screamed. Fires broke out, flames licking hungrily along the wooden hull. The humans fired their disrupters at both banks, while the toys ran to fight the fires with buckets and hand pumps.

  Evangeline stuck her head out of Julian’s cabin, and Finlay yelled for her to get back inside. She was safer there. Evangeline looked around her and didn’t argue. Giles and Finlay put away their guns and drew their swords. They knew someone would come. Toby kept his head well down, recording an exciting commentary, while Flynn sent his camera shooting back and forth, trying to cover as much as possible. More energy beams blasted ragged flaming holes in the ship’s superstructure. So far, they hadn’t hit the boilers. The ship was still screaming, but her great paddle wheels still turned.

  Toys plunged into the River and swam over to the ship. There were teddy bears and shape-changing adaptors and dolls of all kinds. The Sea Goat appeared with a barrel of oil, and emptied it over the side. It floated on the surface of the water, thick and glossy. The Goat ignited it with a thrown torch, and flames sprang up around the ship. Toys caught in the blazing oil screamed as the flames consumed them. But many more made it to the side of the steamer, and surged up the holed hull and over the guardrails. Finlay and Giles met them with flashing swords, and the Goat was there with his club, but they were so few, and there were so many enemies, crazed to kill humans. Toby and Flynn came to add their swords, and Poogie and Bruin Bear left their fire fighting and came to help with savage claws and vicious jaws. And even in the midst of the war, the Bear still had time to be appalled at how easy it was becoming for him to fight and kill. And Halloweenie, the Li’l Skeleton Boy, picked up a fallen sword and threw away the last of his innocence to join the battle, too.

  They fought together, human and toy, not knowing who they fought or why, against an army of toys fired by Shub’s imperatives, while flames roared around them. The ship was screaming constantly now. The bridge exploded as it took a direct hit, and the lifeless body of the Captain was thrown through a window, his blackened form hitting the deck hard, to lie still and smoking and unnoticed. The ship began to drift off course, heading for the left-hand bank.

  Finlay found himself fighting back-to-back with Giles. Their swords had scattered dead toys across the deck, around them and underfoot, but still more pressed forward from every side. The air was full of almost human screams and bestial roaring from the attackers. The Campbell and the Deathstalker were fighting at the peak of their abilities, and nothing could get near them, but they both knew they couldn’t hold out indefinitely against such overwhelming odds.

  “Things look bad,” said Giles casually, over his shoulder.

  “More than bad,” Finlay said breathlessly, as he cut down a slavering wolf in a woodsman’s uniform. “We’ll need a miracle to get out of this one.”

  “My thoughts entirely,” said Giles. “The same miracle I used to save us last time.”

  It only took a moment for Finlay to understand. “No! Not again! It would kill him!”

  There was a sharp crack of thunder behind him, and a clap of air rushing in to fill the space where the Deathstalker had been. Finlay knew where he’d teleported to. He fought his way through the crush to reach Julian’s ca
bin. He kicked the door in and rushed in. Giles had dragged Julian to his feet, and was holding the esper up with one hand, while he used the other to fend off Evangeline. Finlay drew his disrupter and pointed it at Giles.

  “Not again, Deathstalker. Not again.”

  “Either he calls up a psistorm, or we’re all dead,” said Giles reasonably. “Which is more important—one already dying esper, or our lives and our mission?” They all staggered a moment as another explosion shook the ship. Giles smiled humorlessly. “Make up your mind, Campbell. We’re running out of time.”

  “He’s my friend,” said Finlay. “I didn’t rescue him from Hell just to let you kill him. I’ll kill you first, Giles.” The gun was very steady in his hand.

  “You’ve got power, Giles,” Evangeline said desperately. “The Maze made you different, stronger, powerful. Use that power to save us.”

  “I can’t,” said Giles. “I could teleport myself out of here, but I couldn’t take any of you with me. And without the ship, how could we even reach the Forest?”

  “You need power?” said Julian thickly. “I’ll give you power, Deathstalker.”

  The esper grabbed his captor by the chin, and turned his head around so they were staring into each other’s eyes. Power surged up in Julian as he called on all his reserves. He could feel things breaking and tearing inside him, and didn’t care. His mouth stretched in a mirthless grin, and blood seeped between his teeth and dripped off his chin. Julian Skye focused his esp and hammered it right into Giles’s head. For a moment Giles thought he was staring into the sun, brilliant and overpowering. Julian’s strength was fueled by his last dying energies, and he used it all to reach out and meld his power with that of Giles, slamming them together so that they mixed and merged. Giles and Julian screamed together, and then Giles teleported, and took the whole ship with him.

  Air rushed in to fill the great gap where the paddle steamer had been, and then there was only the River, burning here and there, with dead toys floating facedown in it. The toys forgot the ship and returned to the war, and the slaughter went on as always.

  The Merry Mrs. Trusspot reappeared about half a mile farther up the River. Great waves splashed up on either side of her as she settled, drenching half her fires and putting them out. Giles and Julian and Finlay came storming out of the cabin and tore into the remaining enemy toys, cutting them down in hardly any time at all. They threw the bodies overboard, and for the first time a silence fell across the deck. Toby lowered his sword and smiled tiredly.

  “Now that is what I call a miracle. I didn’t know you could do that, Deathstalker.”

  “Neither did I,” said Giles. “And I don’t think I’ll be doing it again anytime soon.” He looked at Julian, standing strong and sure before him. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Damned if I know,” Julian said cheerfully. “My best guess is that when we joined, I was able to draw on your power to heal myself. You’re capable of a lot more than you realize, Deathstalker.”

  “You look a lot better,” said Finlay. “Hell, you look human again. How do you feel?”

  “Perfect in every detail,” said Julian. “I’m back to how I was before the Empire found me. I’m cured, people. Feel free to shout Hallelujah!”

  “Keep the noise down,” said the Sea Goat. “We didn’t all make it through.”

  He gestured to the other end of the deck, where Halloweenie was kneeling beside the scorched and blackened body of the Captain.

  “Damn,” said Toby. “Now who’s going to steer the ship?”

  They pressed on into the afternoon, leaving the war behind them. Down-River lay the Forest, and the Red Man, and even the dark necessities of battle couldn’t push the warring toys any closer than they were. All that lay between the paddle steamer and its destination now was time, and the pondering of mysteries. The humans polished their swords. The toys huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. Halloweenie manned the wheel on the bridge, standing on a box. He watched the River, and had nothing to say. The humans had thrown what was left of the Captain into the River, the nearest they could get to a burial at sea. They never did find his parrot. The damaged Merry Mrs. Trusspot chugged steadily on, silent again, her great eyes wide-open and watchful.

  They saw the Forest long before they reached it. It appeared ahead of them like a huge dark stain on the horizon, into which the River was inevitably carrying them. The humans and the toys gathered together at the bow, eyes fixed on the end of their journey, old differences forgotten in the face of the unknown. The Forest was upon them with increasing speed, and soon they could all make out the first great trees of the boundary, and the narrow opening through which the River flowed. The paddle steamer slowed, as though offering one last chance to turn back, and then she sounded her whistle defiantly, chugged bravely forward into the narrow gap, and entered the Forest.

  It was a dark and primal place, with trees so huge they had to be hundreds of years old. They were tall and vast and threatening, a reminder of a time when Humanity lived by the Forest’s grace and was just a part of its slow primordial pulse. The heavy branches were thick with foliage, interlocked together high overhead in a canopy that blocked out most of the sunlight. Heading into the Forest, the humans and the toys left the day behind, and became a part of the endless twilight.

  No one had ever been meant to play here. There was no comfort or security to be found in the great Forest. The place of the trees was wild and free and untamed, and man entered at his own risk. The tall trees stood close together, wide and wrinkled, their leaves a dark, bitter green. The air was thick with the scent of earth and sap and living things. The paddle steamer moved slowly, surely, down the River, branches occasionally trailing on the roof of the bridge. It was like moving through an endless evening, grey and solemn and eerily quiet, a vast living Cathedral of ancient wood.

  And so they passed out of the world of toys and into the great green dream of olden days, sailing down a dark River in search of a mystery and an enigma—the lost soul called the Red Man. And the army he had gathered around him for his own, unknown, purposes.

  They say he’s crazy. They say he wants to destroy the world . . .

  Finlay and Giles had their disrupters in their hands, ready for use at a moment’s notice. Julian and Evangeline stood together at the guardrail, feeling somehow small and insignificant in such a place of giants. Flynn was going crazy trying to get it all on film, but for once in his life Toby felt too intimidated by the dark glory around him to offer any commentary. Poogie, the Bear, and the Goat stood close together, drawing strength from each other. Alone on the bridge, Halloweenie stared into the gloom ahead like a bird hypnotized by a snake.

  The endless quiet had a strength of its own. No one felt like breaking it with idle chatter. There were no sounds of bird or beast or insect, just the steady chugging of the ship’s engines. The never-ending hush had an expectant quality, as though at any moment some great voice might begin speaking, to which all living things must listen. So both the humans and the toys were all listening hard when the first piercing notes came tumbling out of the dark toward them.

  The song came first, a bright, vibrant melody, joyous and free. And then came the singers, tiny glowing winged sprites, flying through the trees like tiny stars come down to earth. There were crowds of them, bustling and animated, breaking over the ship like a wave of light, swooping and soaring all around the paddle steamer, but never, ever, coming too close. The humans and the toys watched with wide eyes and wider smiles, touched by unexpected joy in a dark place. The sprites were human in shape, but only a foot or so long, with great, pastel-colored wings. They shone with a brilliant inner light, dazzling and vivid, luminous beings, like living moonlight.

  And they sang, singly and together, high delicate tones of rippling arpeggios and endless harmonies, a choir of angels on the wing, a sound so pure and beautiful it broke the heart to hear it. It was the Forest given voice, a place and a mood and a meaning wrapped up in s
ong. Everyone on the ship felt that they were on the brink of answers to every question that ever really mattered. And then suddenly the sprites were gone, surging away into the Forest, their song dying away in the gloom and the distance.

  “What the hell was that?” said Toby finally, after they were all gone. “And did you get it on film, Flynn?”

  “Don’t ask me,” said Flynn. “The camera was running, but I was away with the fairies. Weren’t they beautiful?”

  “Marvelous,” said Finlay. “But what are they doing here? What is this Forest doing here, on Shannon’s World? This was never intended as a place for children. Hell, I’m not sure if I’m ready for it at my age.”

  “Could it be real?” said Julian. “Something original to the planet? It looks old, even ancient.”

  “No,” said Evangeline. “This planet was a lifeless rock before Shannon had it terraformed. Everything here is his.”

  “Then why did he build this?” said Giles. “What’s its purpose?”

  “It was to be his next project,” said Poogie, and they all turned to look at him. The cartoony figure didn’t look around. His voice was calm, certain. “Shannon’s purpose had always been to reach the soul of Humanity, to heal its wounds. Summerland was just the first step. A place for children of all ages to find peace and comfort. The Forest was to be the next step. A place men and women could disappear into for as long as they needed, to find their spiritual roots and grow strong and sure again.

  “Once the Forest was completed, Shannon walked into it and never came out. He’s still in there, somewhere, if he’s still alive. That’s why Harker chose this place for his retreat. This is a place of rebirth. The rebirth of the soul of Shannon’s World.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Bruin Bear. “How do you know why Harker chose this place?”