Authors: Simon R. Green
Deathstalker War (34 page)
Evangeline put a hand to her mouth. The other hand squeezed Finlay’s until it ached. Finlay kept his voice calm.
“Will he recover?”
“Given time, and supportive treatment, yes. But we don’t have those facilities here. You can speak to him now, if you wish. We’ve given him a broad spectrum booster shot that will help stabilize him, but there’s no telling how long that will last. In the end, there’s no substitute for time and rest.”
Finlay nodded his thanks and started forward. The doll put up a hand to stop him. “One more thing. The tests revealed that Mr. Skye is an esper. He must not use his abilities. One short use on the way here was apparently enough to cause serious damage to the brain tissues. Further use would almost certainly kill him.”
Finlay waited a moment, to make sure she’d finished, then moved forward again, Evangeline at his side. The other nurse doll smiled as they approached the bed and moved away to give them some privacy with the patient. Julian smiled up at Finlay, and then briefly at Evangeline. He was still pale, but color was beginning to come back into his cheeks, and his gaze and his mouth were firm. Finlay didn’t smile back.
“You lied to me. You told me the underground medics gave you a clean bill of health.”
Julian’s shoulders moved in something that might have been meant as a shrug. “If I’d told you the truth, you wouldn’t have let me come on this mission.”
“What’s so important about this mission?” snapped Finlay. “There would have been other things we could have worked on together.”
“This one was special. Vital to the rebellion. I didn’t want to be left behind. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything!”
“That’s my decision to make, not yours. I thought I was fit enough. Turns out I was wrong. But I’m here now. And I’m feeling a lot better.”
“You’re staying right here,” said Finlay. “In Toystown. They’ll look after you till we get back.”
“Nice try. But I can’t stay here. When word gets to the bad toys that there’s a human in Toystown again, they’ll trash this place from one end to the other to get at me. I don’t want any dead toys on my conscience.”
“Dammit, I can’t take you with us!” said Finlay, knowing he was raising his voice and not giving a damn. “You’d be a liability to the mission!”
“I can pull my weight,” said Julian coldly. “I was running missions for the underground when you were still a pampered aristo.”
“You can’t use your esp!” said Finlay. “The nurses say it’ll kill you.”
“And what the hell do a couple of dolls know about espers? Odds are they’ve never even seen one before. No, I’m going with you. Get used to the idea.”
Finlay looked like he was about to explode. Evangeline squeezed his hand hard to remind him she was still there. “He’s right in one thing, Finlay; we can’t leave him here. Not if it would leave Toystown at risk. So it looks like we won’t be breaking up the winning team after all.”
Finlay sighed and shook his head. “Doomed. We’re all doomed.”
The River lay half a mile outside Toystown’s northern boundary. The toys called it the River, because it was the only one in all the world. It meandered through the hills and valleys, branching here and there, but always coming back to itself. It began and ended in the great Forest, in the center of the world that Shannon made. It was wide and deep and dark, and composed of a popular soft drink, sweet and heady and very refreshing. The humans had to try it, but the novelty wore off very quickly.
The six humans had gathered together on the Riverbank, studying the transport the toys had provided to take them to Vincent Marker. Evening had fallen, but the light from a long string of paper lanterns was more than enough to illuminate the full-sized, steam-driven paddle steamer. It was fifty feet long, perfect in every detail, and, as always, painted in bright primary colors. Toby was beginning to wish he’d brought sunglasses. The paddle wheels were intimidatingly huge, and looked more than solid and strong enough to last the journey. Most things in Shannon’s World were built for show rather than function, but this was the real thing.
Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat were right there with the humans. Finlay had tried halfheartedly to talk them out of it, but in the end none of them had the heart to say no. He was, after all, Bruin Bear. The Sea Goat they could live with.
“This is the good ship Merry Mrs. Trusspot,” said Bruin Bear. “And no, we didn’t name her that. Humans did. Some day I hope to find the human who did it, pin him to a wall, and ask him why in a very determined tone. Like everyone else, the ship is self-aware, but she doesn’t say much. She’s deeply philosophical, thinks furiously on any subject you can name, and hates being interrupted from her deep and significant musings. Toys used to come and ask her questions concerning the nature of reality and our new reality in particular, but half the time her answers were more disturbing than the questions, so . . . These days, she keeps herself to herself and lets her crew run things. We use her for our very infrequent longer voyages, and she doesn’t seem to mind. I suppose when you’re as lost in your thoughts as she is, one place is much the same as any other.”
“She hasn’t been in the Forest yet,” said the Sea Goat, darkly. “That might change her mind.”
“Anyway,” said the Bear, determined not to be distracted from his point, “she remained strictly neutral during the war against the humans, and I think she feels a bit guilty now. She isn’t used to emotions. I think they upset her. Either way, she has volunteered her services to take you to Harker. She’s slow, but reliable. She’ll get us there.”
“Where’s the crew?” said Finlay. “I don’t see anyone . . .”
“Shiver me timbers and batter me bulkheads,” said a deep voice from above them. They all looked up at the bridge, to see a heavily bearded face peering down at them. There were pretty ribbons in his beard, and he wore a large purple hat with feathers and wax fruit on it. He had earrings. Long dangly ones. He glared down at the humans and adjusted his hat nervously.
“Isn’t that just typical of humans? Always in a hurry. Can’t a girl take a few moments to make sure she looks her best? Stay where you are, sweeties, I’ll come right down. And don’t touch anything, darlings. I’ve only just finished cleaning up around here. I’m Captain of this ship, and don’t you forget it.”
The face pulled back and disappeared, and a series of loud thuds from inside the ship indicated that the Captain was descending to join them. The Bear and the Goat shared a significant glance, and then shook their heads. A door flew open onto the deck, and the Captain of the Merry Mrs. Trusspot came hurrying out and headed for the guardrail. He was a pirate Captain, in full traditional dress, all flashing silks and flounced sleeves, and he balanced precariously on two wooden peg legs. On his left shoulder perched a really scruffy-looking parrot, who clung desperately to the Captain’s epaulet and studied the humans with a dark and evil eye. He only had the one. The Captain grabbed the guardrail to steady himself, lifted his chin proudly, and raised his hat to the humans.
“Ahoy there, sweeties. Welcome to the Merry Mrs. Trusspot. Do be sure to use her full name at all times, darlings, or she’ll go all sulky and start venting the bilges into the air-conditioning again. Delighted to meet you all. I just know we’re going to get along tremendously well, and have a splendid time on our little adventure. Do come aboard, and we’ll have a few drinkies and some nibbles, before we shove off. I’ve made fudge fingers and fairy cakes.”
“Ah har,” said the parrot on his shoulder. “Pieces of eight, bugger the mate.”
“Shut up!” said the Captain. He swatted at the parrot with a heavily ringed hand, but the bird dodged with the ease of long practice. The Captain glared at it, and the parrot glared right back. The Captain blinked nervously, and looked back at his passengers. “Come along, sweeties. Never keep a good sherry waiting.”
As one, the humans turned to look at Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat, who both shrugged uncomfortably. “We did think about warning you in advance,” said the Bear. “But we couldn’t seem to come up with the right words. Basically, he’s rebelling against his original characterization. Ever since he became aware, he’s been at pains to distance himself as far as possible from his original role. I think the new him is based on a passenger who rather caught the Captain’s attention. He says he feels much more comfortable the way he is now.”
Flynn looked at Toby. “I think I may have found a kindred spirit.”
“You leave him alone,” Toby said sternly. “You’ll only confuse him even more. The last thing these toys need is to start worrying about their sexual identity.”
Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat looked at each other. “What’s sex?” said the Bear.
Toby glared at Flynn. “Now see what you’ve done!”
“Tell us about the parrot,” Evangeline said quickly. “Surely it hasn’t always been like that?”
“Certainly not,” said the Bear. “I don’t know who he picked up the language from. Though I have my suspicions.” He glared at the Sea Goat, who looked back innocently.
“Any more crew?” said Giles. “Or are we going to have to stoke the boilers ourselves?”
“Just the one,” said the Bear. “The ship takes care of herself, mostly, but Halloweenie will look after all your needs.”
The humans just had time to mouth the name and look dubiously at each other, and then there was a loud clattering of bones as the other crew member made his appearence. He came dashing onto the main deck at speed, skidded to a halt by the guardrail, and gave the humans a brisk salute. He was a skeleton, about four feet in height held together by invisible wiring. He wore a rakish bandanna around his gleaming white skull, and an eyepatch over one empty eye socket.
“Hi there,” he said chirpily, in an excited boy’s voice. “I’m Halloweenie, the Li’l Skeleton Boy! First Mate of the Merry Mrs. Trusspot, at your service! Come aboard, come aboard; I just know we’re going to have a great adventure together! Anything I can do to make your trip more comfortable, you come and see me!”
“Now him I like,” said Toby.
“Trust me, he doesn’t half start to grate after a while,” said the Sea Goat. “The truly sentient mind can only stand so much cheerfulness. Beyond a certain point, the urge to throw him overboard strapped to an anchor will become almost unbearable. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to rise above it, as he’s the only one who knows how to keep the ship running smoothly. The Captain’s good at steering and shouting orders, but beyond that he’s usually lost. So just grit your teeth and smile back at the cheerful little swine. Feel free to throw things. I always do.”
“Don’t mind the Goat,” said Bruin Bear. “He’s just being himself.”
“And I hate all these bright bloody colors,” muttered the Sea Goat. “Makes me want to puke.”
After a civilized little get-together in the Captain’s cabin, at which the Sea Goat disgraced himself by drinking sherry straight from the bottle and not knowing what a napkin was, Halloweenie showed the passengers to their cabins and left them to settle in. According to the rough map the Bear had provided, the trip down the River was clearly going to take several days, and in the light of that the humans weren’t all that impressed by the accommodations. The cabins were bright and cheerful, like everything else on this children’s world, but the rooms held only a hammock, a bookcase full of children’s classics, a freezer full of soft drinks and sweeties, and a washbasin. The humans all but simultaneously went looking for the galley and a stiff drink, not necessarily in that order. Booze turned out to be in very short supply. There was supposed to be sherry for the cooking, and brandy for medical emergencies, but the Captain had already appropriated both for himself. Exactly what kind of buzz an automaton could get from alcohol remained something of a mystery. Luckily there was still plenty of food. Some of the tins were still within their sell-by dates.
The passengers reconvened on deck to watch the crew cast off. This was even less exciting than it sounded, since it consisted of the Captain yelling orders, and Halloweenie throwing a rope overboard, but already the humans could feel boredom creeping up on them. The great paddle wheels of the Merry Mrs. Trusspot turned slowly, and her whistle sounded loudly on the still evening. The day was almost done, and stars were coming out in the darkening sky. The stars had five perfect points, and were arranged to form the shapes of popular children’s characters. The full moon wore a long floppy nightcap.
The paddle steamer slowly picked up speed, the dark liquid of the River churning around her bow. She rounded a curve in the River, and there on the bank was the whole of Toystown, come to see the humans off and cheer them on their way. They clapped and laughed and shouted encouragement, jostling each other cheerfully for a better view. Poogie the Friendly Critter and Anything, who’d turned up at the very last moment, stood together by the rail, a little away from the humans, and stared glumly back at the crowd. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat laughed and waved, the Goat responding surprisingly amiably to the occasional catcall. The humans waved back at the huge crowd, a little self-consciously at first, and then more easily as they got into the good cheer and excitement of the moment. Someone set off fireworks, spattering rich reds and greens and yellows against the falling night. The Merry Mrs. Trusspot tooted her whistle again and again, and so the great voyage began.
Not long after, when they’d left the crowd behind and silence had returned to the evening, the humans remained by the guardrail, watching the dark River flow past. The land was already disappearing into the growing dark. Strings of bright paper lanterns illuminated the deck. Toby sighed loudly.
“Take a good look, people. After a while, this is going to seem exciting. I mean, the ship’s very nice, and all that, but there’s nothing to flaming do! Unless you want to play children’s games. There’s plenty of those. I can’t believe people really paid through the nose for this. I’d be bored out of my mind inside twenty-four hours. I can only assume all the customers were heavily drugged on arrival, and kept that way till they left, and I wouldn’t object to some now. God, I’m bored!”