Deathstalker War (39 page)

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 sleep 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.”

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. The 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.”