Deathstalker War

CHAPTER TWO

INNOCENCE LOST

They called it Shannon's World, because it was his dream, his vision. He all but bankrupted himself bringing it into existence, but the result was a pleasure world like no other, reserved only for the very rich, the extremely well connected, and the strictly aristocratic. Its location was a secret known only to the glamorous few, and for those inquisitive others who bribed or bullied their way to Shannon's World uninvited, state-of-the-art security and weapons systems waited to blow them out of this world and into the next. Shannon's World, where mountains sang to each other, fantasies and dreams became real, and the whole world was alive. A pleasure planet unlike any other, where even the weariest of souls could find rest and comfort and contentment.

And then the awful thing happened.

Afterward, Shannon's World cut itself off from the Empire, refusing to acknowledge any form of contact. Visitors were destroyed while still in orbit, no matter whom they represented. The Empress sent a ship. It never came back. She sent a starcruiser, which managed to land a full brigade of marines. Something killed them. So she tried a series of covert Security teams. Only one man returned from what had been the foremost pleasure planet in the Empire. He came back soaked in many people's blood, quite mad, his mind destroyed by what he'd seen, and died soon after, mostly because he wanted to. He renamed the planet Haceldama, the Field of Blood.

The Empress put the planet under Quarantine, stationed a starcruiser in far orbit to make sure whatever was down there didn't get out, and then turned her attention to other things. Thanks to the traitor Deathstalker and his growing rebellion, she had far more pressing worries than a pleasure planet gone bad. And so things might have remained, if the most important strategic and military mind in the Empire, one Vincent Harker, hadn't crash-landed on what used to be Shannon's World. In his head was information vital to both the Empire and the rebellion. The Empress sent down a company of her elite battle troops to recover him. They never reported back. Now, it was the rebels' turn.

In a hastily converted cargo ship called the Wild Rose, a small group of rebels watched the sensor panels closely, and hoped the new Hadenman cloaking system was everything it was supposed to be. The planet's defenses were powerful enough to batter down any force shield generated by anything less than a full starcruiser, and the cargo ship's shields were strictly rudimentary. Either the Hadenman device fooled the orbiting satellites, or the rebels wouldn't live long enough to know they were dead. The device squatted behind them, roughly bolted to the deck, all sharp edges and unexpected angles, with strange lights that came and went for no apparent reason. The rebels preferred not to look at it. The shape of the device hurt their eyes. They kept their gaze fixed on the sensor panels and the main viewscreen, watching the planet grow slowly beneath them, cool and blue and utterly enigmatic.

On board the Wild Rose was Finlay Campbell, the aristo turned rebel, daredevil fighter with a coldness in his soul, who had once been secretly the Masked Gladiator, undefeated champion of the Golgotha Arenas. At his side his lady love, Evangeline Shreck, daughter of the aristocracy, who lived for years with the secret that she was really only a clone, created to replace the daughter sexually abused and murdered by her father. On Finlay's other side, Julian Skye, the rogue esper rescued by Finlay from the interrogation cells under Golgotha. Skye was once one of the most powerful espers in the Empire and a daring rebel, but his time in the bloodstained hands of the mind techs had left him hurt and damaged, perhaps beyond his ability to recover. And finally there was Giles Deathstalker, the legendary hero who'd spent over nine hundred years in stasis, emerging to find an Empire he barely recognized. Rebels one and all, representatives of the Golgotha underground, desperate to find Vincent Harker before the Empire forces did.

Also along for the ride were Toby Shreck and his cameraman Flynn, heading toward a story darker and stranger than they had ever known.

Finlay stirred impatiently at the sensor panels. He'd never handled waiting well. His only prayer had always been, dear Lord, please deliver me into battle and danger up to my eyes. He had once been a master of fashion, a fop and dandy of great renown, a persona and mask he'd created to hide his secret other existence as the Masked Gladiator, feted darling of the Arenas. Now he was on the run from the Society he'd once moved in so freely, just another rebel among many, expendable enough to be sent on what many regarded as a suicide mission. He was twenty-six years old, and looked easily ten years older. His long hair had faded to a yellow so pale it was almost colorless. He wore it tied back in a single, practical pigtail. He had the look of a mercenary soldier; cold and dangerous but essentially uninvolved. He only joined the rebels to better protect his love Evangeline, and made no secret of his distance from the underground's politics. It was enough that they provided him with missions where he could test his courage and skill with weapons. Finlay Campbell was fast becoming that most dangerous of men—one with nothing left to lose. Only Evangeline kept him sane and focused, and both of them knew it.

Evangeline Shreck had lived most of her life in fear. Fear of being exposed as a clone and executed for the unforgivable crime of having successfully impersonated an aristocrat. Fear of her father's perverted love. Fear of always being alone. And then she found Finlay, and for the first time in her life she had a reason to go on living. If he died, she didn't know what she'd do. Unlike Finlay, she had no taste for danger and excitement, but as a clone she was fiercely dedicated to the rebel cause. And if the many tensions of her life were slowly tearing her apart, that was her business. Gamine and elfin, her military fatigues hung about her like a tent. She had large dark eyes a man could drown in, a firm mouth, and the unmistakable air of a survivor. Of someone who had lived through pain and horror and despair, and had not broken under them. Yet.

They stood together, studying the bright blue planet on the viewscreen before them. There were no signs of civilization, nothing to show that Humanity had ever made a mark on Shannon's World. No cities, no great roads, nothing big enough to trigger the ship's sensors. Whatever lived down there was keeping itself hidden and secret. Evangeline sighed suddenly.

"It looks so innocent. Untouched by man. Not at all like a Field of Blood. What could have happened down there, what terrible thing, to justify such a name?"

Finlay smiled slightly. "Something powerful and nasty enough to kill off every armed man the Iron Bitch has sent down there, so far. And there's not much that can stand against a full force of armed marines. I've always liked a challenge."

"Do you think… could it be something like the Grendel alien? I've seen the holo of what that creature did at Court."

"Unlikely," said Toby from the back. "After the horror of what happened on Grendel, every planet in the Empire was searched for signs of more Vaults. Not even a pleasure planet like this would have been exempt. And if anyone had found more Sleepers, there's no way they could have kept it quiet. There isn't that much money in the Empire."

"Don't worry, love," said Finlay to Evangeline, putting an arm across her shoulders and pulling her close. "Whatever's down there, I'll protect you."

"Did you ever come here?" said Evangeline. "I never did. I'd heard of Shannon's World, but Daddy didn't believe in letting me out of his sight."

"I've been most places," said Finlay. "But never here. I was always too busy. And it didn't sound like the kind of place where I'd fit in. Too peaceful. Ironic, isn't it? That what was designed as the safest, most secure place in the Empire should end up a nightmare renamed the Field of Blood. Still, that's life in the Empire for you these days. Just as a matter of interest, how did we get the coordinates for this place? I thought they were strictly need to know, only issued to actual visitors?"

"Valentine Wolfe supplied them," said Evangeline, her voice carefully neutral. "Before he left us, to become Lionstone's right-hand man. Apparently he'd been here once, but didn't care for it. Something about the place… disturbed him. He thought we should blow it all up."

"The Wolfe," said Finlay, his lips curling back in something between a snarl and a smile. "I must find him and thank him personally. And then I'll cut his heart out and hold it still beating in my hand. He destroyed my Family, betrayed the rebellion, and spit on everything I ever believed in."

"Be fair," said Toby Shreck, butting into the conversation with the casual ease of the experienced journalist. "We are, after all, talking about Valentine Wolfe, famed for degeneracy in a Court where the appalling and the disgusting have become commonplace. The man who never met a drug he didn't like. I'm amazed you people let him into the underground in the first place."

"He had money and contacts," said Evangeline. "At a time when we needed both. Besides, he came with good recommendations."

"Who from?" said Toby. "The Royal Guild of Chemists? If you nurse a viper in your bosom, you shouldn't be surprised if it turns round and bites you."

"I will kill him," said Finlay. "No matter where it takes me, no matter what it costs."

"Sometimes I can't help wondering if we're getting too inbred," said Toby. "Here we are, about to face unknown dangers on a planet known as the Field of Blood, and all you can think about is dueling someone who's light-years away, and probably permanently out of your reach anyway. Give me strength."

"You wouldn't understand," said Finlay, not looking at him. "It's a matter of honor."

"Of course not," said Toby. "I'm a journalist."

In his short career Toby had shown a remarkable talent for being in the right place at the right time, and producing excellent coverage of extraordinary events, first on Technos III and then on Mistworld. His reports hadn't made him any friends among the powers that were, but his ratings were going through the roof. Toby was quietly very proud of this. During his long career cleaning up after Gregor Shreck's messes, he'd often dreamed of being a real journalist, covering real stories. Now that he'd got his chance, he was living his dream. And if he got uncomfortably close to having his ass shot off on more than one occasion, well, that came with the job. He grinned at the image of Shannon's World on the viewscreen. He would be the first journalist ever to set foot on the legendary dream world, and the first to tell what had gone so horribly wrong there. Life was good, sometimes.

His cameraman, Flynn, was quietly dozing in the seat beside him, his camera perched on his shoulder like a drowsy owl. Flynn didn't believe in getting excited until there was something definite present to be excited over. And he did like to get his rest when he could. An excellent cameraman, Flynn, and a steadfast companion. Toby just hoped he wasn't wearing ladies' underwear under his clothes again.

Just in front of Toby, staring blankly at the viewscreen, was Julian Skye. Toby didn't quite know what to make of the young esper. He'd been handsome once, apparently, before the Imperial interrogators went to work on him. They'd done a lot of damage, to his body and his mind, before Finlay rescued him. Most of it had healed, but the broken bones of his face had mended lumpily, and parts of his face still hung slack from damaged nerves. He wore a rather obvious wig, to hide the steel plate covering the hole the mind techs had made in the back of his skull so they could work on the brain directly.

Before his capture, he'd had a reputation in the underground as one of their wildest, most daring operatives. But his time in the torturers' cells had destroyed his bravado, and while he hadn't crawled or broken or betrayed anyone, he was haunted by the certainty that he would have, eventually. Finlay had rescued him just in time, and Julian had clung to him ever since. He didn't feel safe when Finlay wasn't around. Finlay, to his credit, had tried to discourage this, building up Julian's courage and confidence when he could, but the esper's hurts ran deep, and he constantly found excuses that would keep him close to Finlay. He even argued his way into what everyone said was a suicide mission, just to be with Finlay.

It wasn't clear yet what Evangeline made of this. Toby kept an eye on all of them, just in case. There was a story there just waiting to happen, and he didn't want to miss it when it finally broke.

He also kept a careful if inconspicuous eye on Giles Deathstalker. The first and greatest of his line, first Warrior Prime of the Empire, nine hundred years ago. Who had wielded the Darkvoid Device, and put out a thousand suns in an instant, leaving their inhabited worlds to wither and die in the sunless cold and dark. Billions died in horror and despair, because of one man's decision. Giles was tall but sparsely built, though his arms bulged with muscle. He dressed in battered furs and leathers, like a barbarian, and wore his long grey hair in a mercenary's scalplock. He looked to be in his late fifties, with a solid, lined face, his mouth a thin flat line above his silver-grey goatee. His eyes were a surprisingly mild grey, but his gaze was firm and unwavering. He looked hard and uncompromising, a vision from the past, when the Empire had been a proud and honorable enterprise, served by proud and honorable men. Giles Deathstalker, greatest hero and greatest traitor of his own time, who would not yield then or now to anything that might compromise his sense of honor or duty.

Or so it was said. All Toby knew for sure was that the man looked like death on two legs just sitting there, calm and relaxed as though heading into a vacation. Giles Deathstalker scared the shit out of Toby, and he didn't care who knew it. He looked back at the mysterious planet growing steadily on the viewscreen. He found it less disturbing.

"You people know more about Shannon's World than I do," he said easily, as though he'd never paused. "But according to rumor, it was supposed to be very restful down there. No worries, no pressures… almost therapeutic. A place where you could forget your cares and misfortunes. According to the records, there were 522 people down there when whatever happened happened. None of them have been heard of since."

"But what could possibly have gone wrong on a pleasure world?" said Evangeline. "There was nothing there that could hurt them. And we know they were protected from outside attack. The planetary defenses are still working."

"We're getting past them," said Finlay.

Giles grunted suddenly, and sat forward in his chair, catching them all by surprise. "Pleasure worlds. Just another sign of how pampered and soft the Empire has become since my day. You need hard, driven people to keep an Empire strong. We had pleasure worlds, in my day, but they were places you went to test your mettle and your courage, a testing ground where you could grow sharper and stronger. Valhallas, where you could fight and feast and battle to your heart's content, or at least for as long as your heart could stand it. No mock battles, either; they were the real thing. That was the point. You could die on a Valhalla, if you weren't as strong or as skilled as you thought you were. The weak died and the race grew stronger. There was no room for weakness in Humanity then. We had an Empire to forge and protect. Now you sit in your seats at the Arenas, watching other people fight and die, and get all excited at the sight of a little blood. No wonder the Iron Throne's corrupt. The blood's become thin, and honor is just a word."

"Not to all of us," said Finlay.

"I don't mean duels over hurt feelings, boy; I mean honor you live your life by. A cold and inflexible master you serve before Family or Throne or personal need. A duty you carry till you die, or you break under the weight of it. I gave up everything I had or ever dreamed of, to follow where duty led. Can you say you'd do the same?"

"I don't know," said Finlay evenly. "I don't suppose anyone ever knows, till the moment comes. But I'll do what's necessary, and damn the cost. I always have."

"Do we have to be so gloomy?" said Toby. "Let us not forget, people, that however our mission goes, we all stand to become extremely rich. The networks will pay practically any price you can think of for exclusive eyewitness accounts of the mysterious Shannon's World. People have been mad with curiosity over what's down there for years, even before everything went to hell. And if we're in a position to explain what went wrong and why, we can name our own price. We're going to be rich, I tell you, rich!"

"Or dead," said Flynn, without opening his eyes.

"We are not here for the money," said Evangeline.

"You speak for yourself," said Toby.

Julian Skye listened to them argue, but had nothing to say. He didn't give much of a damn about Shannon's World, or its mystery. He was only here because Finlay was. And besides, he had his own worries. His headache was back again, a thick thudding pain that filled his head till he could hardly think past it. The pain came and went as it would, despite all the pills he took. The underground medics had done their best, but it hadn't been good enough. The pain and the disfigured face were the least gifts of the Imperial mind techs. They'd opened up his head and put needles in his brain, and now he wasn't sure who he was anymore. His courage was broken, and his certainty was gone, and what remained was less than a shadow of the man he had once been. The mind techs were very good at their job. Their procedures were advanced, secret, binding. There was no way of telling what they had done to his brain, what secret commands they might have planted in his mind.

And even beyond that, there was the possibility that their work might have been interrupted, left unfinished. That not everything had been done to ensure he would survive the process. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, in the long dark hours when the vicious pain had driven all hope of sleep from him, and reduced him to helplessness and tears, Julian wondered if he was dying, slowly, inch by inch. When the pain was really bad, he wished he could. But eventually the pain would pass, again, and then he would cling to the few motives he had left that kept him alive. He still believed in the rebellion, and he believed in Finlay Campbell, the man who had risked all to come and save him. The Campbell had given up everything to join the underground. How could he do less?

And so Julian followed Finlay wherever his missions took him, proud to be in his company, and perhaps hoping a little of the man's courage and certainty would rub off on him. He took a little pride in the fact that they made a good team. He wasn't sure how he felt about Evangeline Shreck. On the one hand, Finlay obviously loved her with all his heart, so she must be a remarkable and worthy woman. But on the other hand, Julian was ashamed to find he was sometimes jealous of her closeness with Finlay, a closeness he could never hope for. Still, that was love for you.

Julian hadn't had much experience with love, and most of it had been bad. The only real love of his young life had been BB Chojiro, the dark-haired woman who'd captured his heart, then betrayed him to the mind techs the moment he revealed to her that he was secretly a rebel. She belonged heart and soul to Blue Block, the secret conspiracy of young aristocrats who plotted to seize the Iron Throne from Lionstone, and who had no time for any conspiracy but their own. Sometimes he still dreamed of her, with her jet-black eyes and perfect smiling mouth, and how he might yet give up everything just to have her love him again, and for everything to be as it was. And other times he thought he'd give up everything he had or ever hoped to have, just for a chance to get his hands around her throat and choke the life slowly out of her. When the pain was really bad, and it seemed the long night would never end, that thought would give him the strength to go on.

His secret fear was that some day the underground would make an alliance with Blue Block against the Empress, for practical, necessary reasons. It could happen. He didn't know what he would do then. Would he really put the whole rebellion at risk, the cause to which he had given his life and his honor, just to kill a woman who had wronged him? And when he thought that, Julian Skye would smile a cold and terrible smile, and think Yes. Yes, I would.

He pushed the thought aside, and gritted his teeth against the pain in his head. The others mustn't know. He had a mission here, and he would not be found wanting. He still had some pride left. Finlay trusted him to carry his weight, and he would rather die than disappoint the Campbell. He made himself concentrate on what was being said. Giles was still talking. Now there was a real warrior. There was no room in such a man for doubt or weakness. He was the Deathstalker, a warrior out of legend and out of time, when men and deeds were bigger than they were now. A man like that would break before he would bend, and die before he would break. And who could kill a legend?

Giles was still talking, but Finlay and Evangeline had stopped listening. The old man meant well, but he did tend to go on a bit. They sat together before the viewscreen, holding hands because they had nothing to say to each other for the moment. They were finding being constantly in each other's company surprisingly difficult. They were used to snatching odd moments and nights together, living for the moment because they never knew when or even if they might meet again. Now that they were part of a team, and sharing every moment day in and day out, they were finding the going hard. It exposed them to each other's irritating little habits and petty needs, instead of the somewhat idealized images they'd previously had. But their love, though shaken, had not shattered. And if they were having problems with small everyday things, it was nothing compared to the blazing heat that welded them into one person.

Eventually Giles realized that no one was listening any more, and grumbled to a halt. He drew his sword, laid it across his knees, and polished the blade with a piece of rag from his belt. He found the slow, steady movements of his hands comforting and reassuring. Something that never changed. As far as he was concerned, this whole mission was a waste of his valuable time and skills. He was a fighter, not a spy. But even he could see the value of the information in Harker's head, and so reluctantly agreed to the underground's request that he join the team. All the other Maze veterans were needed elsewhere, and there was no one else he could trust to protect the team from unknown dangers. Besides, he felt a need to prove his worth to the rebellion. Being a living legend was all very well, but just because you had been a strong man in earlier times didn't necessarily mean you could still pull your weight. Trust didn't come easily in the underground. Giles approved of that. And deep down, where he rarely went, Giles couldn't help but wonder if he was still the man he remembered being. He'd been in stasis for a long time, and the universe had moved on without him. And he didn't trust the changes the Maze had made in him. He didn't know their extent, or even if he could depend on them. This mission would give him valuable opportunities to test his skills and his strength before the real fighting of the rebellion began. He had no doubts about his courage or determination. He was, after all, a Deathstalker. But it would be good to confirm this in the heat of rage and battle.

Giles had always felt most at home on the battlefield, where ambiguous questions of politics and loyalties resolved themselves in the clear-cut choice of life and death. Causes might change, ideals might rust, people might betray you, and love and faith and friendship might let you down, but in battle there was only a victor and a loser, and that was the way Giles liked it.

Toby fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. He wouldn't be happy till he was safely down on solid ground again. Everyone knew this was the most dangerous and uncertain part of the mission. Theoretically, the Hadenman cloaking device should conceal them from Haceldama's orbiting satellites, but if it failed, even for a moment, the planet's defenses would open up, and they were all dead meat. Theoretically? Toby had said when this was explained to him. What do you mean, theoretically? Hasn't it been tested? The man briefing them had smiled and said You're testing it. Toby's reply had been considered unhelpful.

And if that wasn't problem enough, since Shannon's World was officially Quarantined, it was under constant guard by an orbiting Imperial starcruiser, with orders to open fire on anyone or anything unauthorized. Hopefully, the rebels had a way around that.

"Hold on to your seats, everyone," said Finlay. "If everyone else is on schedule, things should start getting interesting right about now."

They all strapped themselves into their safety webbing and watched the viewscreen intently. For a moment that seemed to stretch forever, nothing happened. The Imperial starcruiser hung in orbit, not all that far away, blind to the rebels' presence, huge and intimidating and bristling with gun turrets. And then a great golden Hadenman ship dropped out of hyperspace right on top of it. Vast and magnificent, it dwarfed the starcruiser like a killer whale next to a minnow. It opened fire with all its guns, and the Imperial craft's force shields flared and spit, on the brink of overloading. The Hadenman ship then turned and moved gracefully away, and the starcruiser set off after it, grimly determined to deny Shannon's World to the old Enemies of Humanity. And as the Empire ship began its wild-goose chase, the converted cargo ship dropped silently out of orbit and headed down toward Haceldama, the Field of Blood, and the horrors that awaited them there.

For long moments everything was still and quiet, and the rebels began to relax. But then they plunged into the atmosphere, and the ground-based defenses opened up on them, hammering at the small craft's shields. The massed disrupter cannon maintained a steady barrage, shaking the small ship like a dog shakes a rat. Finlay ranted and swore, stabbing at the sensor panels trying to boost the cloaking systems as best he could while his webbing swung back and forth. But something down below had seen through the Hadenman technology, even though that was supposed to be impossible. The cargo ship rocked violently as deadly energies streamed around its shields, probing for weak spots. The rebels clung to their crash webbing as Finlay wedged himself against the control panels and fought to guide their descent. The lights snapped off for a moment, replaced by the sullen red glow of emergency lighting.

"What the hell happened to the cloaking device?" shouted Toby.

"According to the systems, it's still working," said Finlay. "But it didn't exactly come with a guarantee, you know."

"Now he tells us," said Flynn.

The ship lurched to one side. The emergency lights flickered.

"Outer shields just went down," Finlay said calmly. "Systems now running at 70 percent efficiency. Anyone know any good prayers?"

"Can't we shoot back at them?" said Toby.

"We don't have any guns," said Evangeline. "There wasn't any room, with all the extra Hadenman systems. Didn't you listen when they were briefing us?"

"Obviously not closely enough," said Toby. "I suppose escape pods are out of the question, too?"

"Think about it," said Finlay. "If this ship can't survive with all its shields, how long do you think an escape pod would last?"

"I think I'm about to be sick," said Toby. "Or have a really loud panic attack."

"Try for the attack," said Flynn. "Less messy."

One of the control panels exploded into flames. Finlay flinched back from the heat. The cargo ship dropped like a stone before backup systems cut in. An alarm sounded, harsh and strident, until Finlay hit the off switch. They already knew they were in trouble. The flames were leaping higher. Smoke began to fill the cabin. Evangeline released herself from her crash webbing, grabbed a fire extinguisher, and trained it on the fire. The wallowing craft threw her this way and that, making her task almost impossible. Finlay fought for control with the surviving instrumentation. At the back, Flynn was quietly getting it all on film.

And then the barrage stopped, as suddenly as it began, and all was quiet, save for the crackling of the flames. Evangeline quickly snuffed them out as the craft righted itself, and then she stood and listened, braced for more attacks. Finlay studied his panels, then let his breath out in a long slow sigh.

"They've stopped. We must have fallen below their programmed response limits. People, I'd say we just got very lucky."

"How bad's the damage?" said Julian.

"Could be worse," said Finlay. "Nothing major's gone down. We can still land and take off safely. Assuming the ground defenses only fire at craft coming down, and not those leaving. But you should stay in your crash webbing anyway, people. Landing's liable to be a bit bumpy."

"Check for comm traffic," said Giles. Finlay nodded, and bent over the comm panels. It only took him a few moments to eliminate the comm signals from the departing starcruiser, and concentrate on the planet below. The comm computers ran up and down the frequencies, and found nothing.

"Not a damned thing," said Finlay. "No one's talking to anyone down there. The whole planet's silent."

Giles nodded slowly. "Try the sensors. Check for life-forms."

Finlay moved over to the sensor panels, waving away smoke that drifted in front of his face. The sensors were right next to the panels that had blown up, and they'd suffered some smoke and fire damage themselves. He ran a quick diagnostic, and frowned. Forty-three percent efficiency. Not good. Limited range, and even more limited information. He set the sensors for the widest remaining range, and then watched the displays with a deepening scowl.

"I'm getting… something," he said finally. "But don't ask me what. I'm getting readings, but they don't make any sense. I can't tell whether they're life-forms or not. The computers can't find anything in their records to compare them with. Which is supposed to be impossible."

"Aliens?" said Giles.

"Unknown," said Finlay. "But I don't think so. Even the most alien life-forms should conform to some established pattern. This is something completely new. Whatever these readings are, they're swamping the sensors. If there are any humans down there, the sensors aren't sensitive enough anymore to pull them out of all the noise."

"Or there could be no one left," said Evangeline. "Harker's been down there for months now. Anything could have happened to him."

"Think positively," said Julian. "What about his ship's beacon, Finlay?"

"That's still there," said Finlay. "I'm locked on to it, loud and clear. Should be able to put down right next to it."

"Well that's something," said Toby. "Anyone think to bring any beads or trinkets for the natives?"

"There aren't any natives," said Julian. "Never were. Shannon's World was a dead rock floating in space before it was terraformed. There are no indigenous lifeforms. They would have got in the way of Shannon's carefully crafted dream. Whatever's down there now, it isn't natural."

"You're a real cheerful sort," said Toby. "You know that?"

"Shut up, Shreck," said Giles. "Finlay, put us down. Fast as you can. That starcruiser isn't going to stay distracted forever."

Julian cleared his throat. "I came on this mission at the last moment. Do we have time for a quick briefing on what we can expect to find dirtside? I know the basics, but, well… Field of Blood doesn't exactly fill me with confidence."

"Think positively," said Toby.

"Shut up," said Giles.

"There isn't that much real information," Finlay said quickly. "Only one man ever got off this planet alive after whatever happened happened. He renamed it Haceldama, before he died. Whatever he saw down there destroyed his mind. He wanted to die, to escape from what he'd seen."

"I have a copy of the man's original statement," Toby said diffidently. "Just the relevant points. He tended to ramble. I acquired the tape from a colleague, for a purely nominal price, which I'm sure the underground will take care of. Once they find out about it. Shall I run the tape?"

"Run it," said Giles. "It might stop some of us from getting cocky."

Toby nodded to Flynn, who accessed the ship's comm channels through his camera, and then had the camera run the tape in its memory banks. The main viewscreen shimmered, and the bright blue planet below was replaced by a man's face, wild-eyed and sweating, and so painfully thin that the bones of his face seemed to be pushing out against his skin. His mouth trembled and his face twitched. He'd been strapped to his chair, apparently as much to hold him up as anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was harsh but even. His eyes snapped back into focus, as though even in the depths of his pain he was still driven by some desperate need to tell what he knew, what he'd seen.

"My name is Adrian Marriner. Survey scout, twelve years experience. I was the leader of a survey team sent to discover what happened on Shannon's World. They didn't tell us about the earlier teams. The ones that didn't come back. There were ten of us. Good men and women.

They're all dead now. I am the only survivor. There's a war going on down there. Total war. No quarter asked or given. Forget about the missing people. They're all dead. They were the first to die, and they died hard and bloody, poor bastards. Forget about the pleasure world, too. It's a nightmare now. The worst dream you ever had. Terrible. Awful. A grotesque travesty of itself. Every man, woman and child who came here died horribly, but the war goes on. It always will. Don't send any more teams. What's down there is too much for any human to stand."

He started crying then, great rasping sobs that shook his whole body. Flynn shut off his camera, and the crying face disappeared from the viewscreen, replaced by the enigmatic face of Haceldama, coming up to meet them.

"That's pretty much it, I'm afraid," said Toby. "He just says the same thing, over and over. When he can stop himself crying. Or screaming. It's as though what he saw horrified him so much that his mind became stuck in a groove, forever repeating itself. He died soon after this tape was made, and it was probably a blessing. He was quite insistent that every human being on the planet is dead, which rather begs the question—who's fighting this endless war he talked about? People have come up with various answers, none of them conducive to a good night's sleep. If anyone has any helpful comments, feel free to chip in. I've watched this tape till it's coming out of my ears, and it still scares the crap out of me. I mean, this was an experienced survey scout. Seen everything. And Haceldama reduced him to a sobbing child."

"I've seen the tape before," said Finlay. "I knew one of the people involved in his original debriefing. We have no idea why Marriner survived when the rest of his team died, or how he got offplanet. The Quarantine starcruiser was adamant that no ship had got past it. Marriner was discovered wandering the streets of Golgotha's main starport, crying his eyes out and telling his story to anyone who'd listen. Security picked him up, but they never did find his ship, or how he managed to land it on Golgotha without setting off all kinds of alarms. Which is, of course, supposed to be impossible."

"For any number of reasons," said Evangeline. "How could he have guided a ship all the way from here to Golgotha, all on his own? Computers can only do so much. Someone must have been with him. Someone must have helped him."

"If they did, they never surfaced," said Toby. "Despite an awful lot of people looking for them real hard. The Empress was breathing fire over the lapse in security, and she was not at all happy when the search came up empty-handed. She takes homeworld's security very seriously. I did hear there were a lot of sudden vacancies in Security's upper echelons not long after that."

Julian bit his lower lip hard. He could feel the familiar debilitating ache building in his head again. He couldn't give in to it now. He couldn't be seen to be weak. Not now. He hugged himself tightly and made himself breathe deep and slow. It didn't help much, it never did, but he had to do something… To distract himself, he leaned forward and concentrated on the sensor panels. He could feel cold sweat beading on his forehead. He hoped the others hadn't noticed.

"I thought Harker had a personal beacon?" he said carefully.

"He did," said Finlay. "But not long after he got here, he took it off and left it with the crash-landed ship. We don't know why. He could be anywhere by now."

"He could even be dead," said Giles.

"Think positively," said Toby. "At least we're getting a clear signal from the beacon. Hopefully his ship will provide clues as to where to look next."

"Put us down right next to the ship, Campbell," said Giles. "And let us all pray that the trail isn't as cold as seems likely. Or we could be here for a long time."

Finlay put the adapted cargo ship down on a great grassy plain, only a few hundred yards away from the remains of the crash-landed escape pod. The pod looked in rough shape, but the beacon came through loud and clear. There was no sign of life anywhere. Giles was first out, of course, gun and sword in hand. He glared suspiciously about him, taking his time, and then nodded for the others to join him. Finlay was quickly out the hatch to stand beside the Deathstalker, with Toby and Flynn hot on his heels. They moved slowly toward the pod, checking all the time for hidden booby traps.

Evangeline and Julian were left behind to guard the cargo ship and keep things ready for an emergency takeoff, should one prove necessary. Uneasy in each other's company, they studied their surroundings a little more intently than they really needed to. According to the viewscreen and sensors, the grassy plain stretched away to the horizon in all directions, a vivid green so pure and unwavering it was almost unnatural. There was no sign of any life. No birds, no insects. The scene was completely silent, save for the quiet steps of the new arrivals approaching the pod. The sky was a brilliant blue, sharp and clear, with no trace of any cloud. It was a warm and comforting sky, almost hypnotic, the kind you could lie under for hours and never wonder where the time went. High up in the sky, the fat yellow sun had a big smiley face on it. Julian found that particularly disturbing. It made him feel like he was trapped inside a nursery school party.

"How the hell did they do that?" he said finally, as much for the comfort of hearing his own voice as anything. The quiet was getting to him.

"It's not that difficult," said Evangeline. "Some form of holographic projection, I expect. The real question is why anyone would want to."

"All part of Shannon's dream, I suppose," said Julian. The headache was wearing off, and he was feeling human again. "Smell the air coming in through the hatch. Pure and rich and invigorating. Designer air. That's the kind of attention to detail that pulls in the visitors."

Evangeline sniffed at the fresh air. "It's all right, I suppose, if you like it pastoral, but why is it so quiet? Where is everybody? Is this all there is?"

Julian smiled slightly for the first time. "I very much doubt it. I can't see Shannon getting away with charging top prices just for this."

"I don't know," said Evangeline. "After the pressures and hurly-burly of high Society, I can see some people paying a good price for guaranteed peace and quiet."

"I wouldn't give you a bent penny for this," said Julian. "It's too quiet. It's as though… something is waiting to happen. Something bad."

"Are you always this cheerful?" said Evangeline.

"Mostly," said Julian. "Hang around and I'll break into a song and dance. You watch the instruments. I'm going to try a psionic scan. See if I can pick up anything."

"Is that wise?" said Evangeline, her voice carefully neutral. "The doctors did say you were still supposed to be taking things easy."

"I can pull my weight," snapped Julian. "If I thought otherwise, I wouldn't be here."

He concentrated, his mind leaping up and out, searching for life signs and hidden surprises. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he had something to prove, if only to himself. The rest of his team blazed brightly around him, warm and comforting in their humanness. The crash-landed pod was dark and empty, all systems down, though the beacon shrilled endlessly, like a hungry bird in a nest. He stretched out, covering the grassy plains. His range was limited, compared to what it had been before the mind techs got their hands on him, but he pushed those limits as hard as he could. He needed to feel like he was a valued member of the team. He didn't want anyone to think they were carrying him. He wanted Finlay to be proud of him. So he pushed and strained, defying the ache already building in his brow, and suddenly he made contact. Two of them, just on the other side of the horizon, heading toward him. But he was damned if be could tell what they were. They were quite definitely alive, their minds shining bright and clear, but they were like nothing he'd ever encountered before. Intelligent, focused, but not human. He could sense the minds, but he couldn't read them. And yet there was a familiarity to them, as though he'd known them before somewhere, but couldn't place them, like the faces you see in dreams. Julian pulled back, alarmed on an almost instinctual level, and his mind suddenly jarred on something else, so close at hand he'd overlooked it before. The shock jolted him back into his body, and his head fell forward into his hands as he groaned aloud. Evangeline moved quickly in beside him.

"What is it? What did you see?"

"We're not alone here," he said thickly. "There's another ship, about twenty feet away. Buried under the grass. It's full of death. Tell the others."

In the end, it took all of them working together the best part of an hour to dig down to the buried ship's airlock. The lock was closed, its power depleted, and they had to crank it open with the exterior manual override. Inside it was dark and gloomy, all systems dead, and they had to wait impatiently while Finlay went back to the cargo ship for flashlights. None of them felt like going in without them. Julian was still muttering about death.

They moved slowly through the dark interior, the ship gradually giving up its secrets to the bobbing lights. It was an Imperial pinnace, presumably sent down from the orbiting starcruiser. Something had shot the shit out of it, but it had still made a safe landing. The rebels searched the pinnace from stem to stern, but there was no sign of life anywhere. What they did find was blood. Old, dried blood. Dark and heavy and splashed over most of the interior. Given that the inner hull was still intact, despite the battering the pinnace had taken, it seemed clear that whatever happened did so after the landing.

"These bloodstains are long dry," said Toby. "Whatever went down here, it's over. Guess the war must still be going on."

Finlay unloaded the memory crystal containing the pinnace's log, took it back to the cargo ship, and ran the last few entries on the viewscreen. Everyone crowded together before the screen, but the log didn't have much to tell them. The pinnace had been sent down by the Quarantine starcruiser, the Deliverance. It had carried a crew of twenty, all trained marine elite reconnaissance troops. They'd tracked Harker's beacon to the escape pod and put down beside it. There were no more log entries after that.

"They had the same idea we had," said Toby. "And look what happened to them."

"We don't know what happened to them yet," said Giles testily. "We don't know what happened to anyone yet."

"None of this makes sense," said Evangeline. "If the recon team were all killed, where are their bodies? And why bury the ship instead of them?"

"More mysteries," said Giles. "I hate mysteries.

According to our sensors, there's some kind of building or structure just over the horizon, due east of here. I say we go and take a look. Maybe we'll find some answers there. Or at least some clues."

"What about the two contacts I made?" said Julian. "They were definitely some kind of life-form, heading this way."

"If you see anything that isn't us or Harker, you have my permission to shoot first and ask questions afterward, if at all," said Finlay. "The one thing we can be sure of is that we don't have any friends here. This particular part of Haceldama may seem quiet and harmless, but that doesn't mean you can trust it an inch. Stay alert, all of you. This place kills people."

And so they set off across the grassy plain. Anywhen or anywhere else, it might have been a pleasant stroll. The gentle slope was just enough to stretch their legs, and the air was full of the smell of freshly cut grass. The day was warm enough to make them feel pleasantly loose, with the occasional cool breeze to make sure they didn't overheat. The going was firm without being hard, and the grass sprang back up immediately, no matter how hard they trod on it. Perfect weather, in a silent, empty world. Under a sun with a smiley face.

The horizon slowly flattened out before them, eventually revealing a sudden dip in the land, like a huge grassy crater. In the middle of this was a large building, simple and blocky, constructed in bright primary colors. A high arch stood between the rebels and the building, covered in swirling red and white stripes. A large sign at the top of the arch said WELCOME TO SUMMERLAND! The rebels stopped at the base of the arch to study the sign. The letters were big and blocky, almost cartoonish, like something from a children's primer, designed to be bright and cheerful and nonthreatening. There were floodlights at the top of the sign, but they'd all been smashed. There were splashes of old, long-dried blood on the arch supports.

Beyond the arch, the building had its own cheerful sign, saying Welcome Station. Giles headed toward it, gun in hand, and the others followed him. The sound of their feet crunching the grass seemed very loud in the eerie silence. They all had a constant feeling of being watched, but no matter how quickly they looked in any direction, there was never anyone to be seen. As they drew closer, they discovered that the Welcome Station hadn't escaped the war's attention either. The inner walls, still remorselessly bright and cheerful, showed the scars and pockmarks of discharged energy guns. There were long jagged cracks in the floor and holes in the ceiling, from high explosives. There were dark scorch marks everywhere, from fires that had been left to burn themselves out. And though the walls still stood, the Welcome Station was now cold and lifeless.

The rebels moved slowly forward, checking every corner and shadow for potential enemies. They all had guns in their hands now, except for Toby and Flynn, who were getting it all on film. The eerie silence hung about them like a shroud as they passed from room to room. The wooden furniture had been broken apart and the pieces tossed aside, like so much kindling. Some of it had been used to start fires, but they hadn't taken. There were children's paintings on the walls, damaged by smoke and heat, and curling at the edges. Some were splashed with blood. More unusual were oversize children's toys, overturned here and there, like a rocking horse large enough for a grown man to ride. As they pressed deeper into the Welcome Station, the rebels found themselves stepping over more toys left scattered on the floor as though their owners had been interrupted in their play, or had had to leave in a hurry. But for all the damage and destruction, the fires and the smeared bloodstains, still the bright colors dominated the rooms, as though the rebels were walking through a violated and abandoned nursery.

But if that was so, where were the children?

And then they came to the gymnasium and had to fight not to look away. They were in the heart of the building now, with bright sunlight streaming through the shattered windows, illuminating climbing frames and vaulting horses and other simple equipment, most of it wrecked or overturned. And there, at the back of the room, on a row of wooden stakes hammered into the floor, were impaled twenty severed human heads. There was no sign of the bodies anywhere, or even that much blood. The shrunken, mummified faces stared back at the rebels with empty eye sockets. Their mouths dropped in silent, eternal screams.

Evangeline moved in close beside Finlay, gripping her gun so tightly her fingers ached. If anything had moved in the shadows just then, she would have shot it without hesitating. It seemed there was no room left in her for anything but anger and rage at what had been done to these men and women. Somehow she knew without a shadow of a doubt that nothing human had done this. This was an affront to Humanity, planned and delighted in by its perpetrators. Giles glared about him, searching for some enemy to revenge himself on, but there was no one. Toby gestured to Flynn, who nodded, and sent his camera forward for a close-up, panning slowly along the row of screaming faces.

"You bastards," said Julian, his voice thick with emotions he couldn't afford to release. "You bloody vultures. Haven't you any feelings? Is that all you can think of, getting good pictures for your ghoulish audience? Doesn't this move you at all?"

"Sure," said Toby. "That's why we're getting a record of each face, so they can be identified by their next of kin."

"Oh," said Julian. "I'm sorry."

"And because it's a dynamite shot. It'll make a hell of an impact on the early-morning news slots. This is the kind of footage that wins awards."

"Not to mention bonuses," said Flynn.

"Right," said Toby. "And if it puts a few people off their breakfast, so much the better. With a bit of luck, someone might even call in and complain. You can't buy publicity like that."

Julian didn't know what to say that wouldn't involve shouting, so in the end he said nothing. He didn't want the others to think he couldn't control himself. He looked to Finlay for his cue. The Campbell was looking at the severed heads, but not seeing them, his brows furrowed as he tried to remember something. Evangeline put a hand on his arm.

"What is it, Finlay?"

"I know this place," he said slowly. "Summerland. Someone told me about it, long ago… This wasn't just a pleasure planet."

"What else was it?" said Giles.

"I'm not sure," said Finlay. "But I think… it was a therapy world."

"There's someone outside," Julian said abruptly. Everyone looked at him sharply, except for Giles, who nodded slowly.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Two of them. Waiting by the entrance."

Julian looked at him. "Since when have you been an esper, Deathstalker?"

"I'm not," said Giles. "I just know things, sometimes. Do a full scan, esper."

Julian concentrated. "Two life-forms. Not human. Definitely not human. But… sort of human. I've never sensed anything like it. They're waiting for us to come out. They don't feel threatening."

"Then let's go talk with them," said Finlay. "And let's hope they have some answers. Because I'm not in the mood for any more mysteries. I just want something I can hit."

They moved quickly back through the deserted rooms, still checking warily for ambushes as they went, until finally they reached the main entrance, then stumbled to a halt at the sight of what they found waiting for them there. Standing calmly before the entrance was a four-foot-tall teddy bear, with golden honey fur and dark knowing eyes. He wore a bright red tunic and trousers, and a long bright blue scarf around his neck. He looked warm and lovable and entirely trustworthy. His companion didn't inspire the same kind of immediate trust. Well over six feet tall, and wrapped in a long filthy trench coat, he looked human enough, apart from the cloven feet, clawed hands, and large blocky goat's head, with long curling horns and a permanently nasty smile. His grey fur was soiled and matted where it showed, and his eyes had a dangerous wildness to them. He stood slouching before the rebels, half the buttons missing from his trench coat, his ears drooping as though he couldn't be bothered with them.

Finlay and his party stood very still, crowded together in the entrance. Whatever they'd been expecting, this very definitely wasn't it. Julian felt like shooting the goat-thing on sight, but somehow couldn't bring himself to do it. There was something about the goat, and the bear. The Bear… Julian pushed his way forward, looking from the Bear to the Goat and back again.

"I know you," he said hoarsely. "I know you, don't I?"

"Of course you do," said the Bear, in a warm and understanding voice. "All children know us."

"You're Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat," said Julian. "Every child's friend and hero."

"Yes," said Evangeline, pushing forward to stand beside him, her eyes fixed on the bear. "I used to have all your adventures, when I was… young. Full of magic and wonder and marvelous places. I remember. There were books and cartoons and films and interactive games, all to do with your adventures in the Golden Lands. I remember…"

"Yeah, well, we've been around for a while," said the Sea Goat. "Not that we ever saw any royalties, mind. Still, that's what happens when you're not real, and you can't afford a decent lawyer."

"You're automatons," said Finlay. "Mechanical devices with preprogrammed minds, in the shapes of well-loved children's characters."

"Nah," said the Sea Goat. "We're just toys. We're all toys here."

"Welcome to Summerland," said Bruin Bear. "Or what's left of it. We're here to look after you."

"We have got to make time for an interview with them," Toby said to Flynn. "Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat, in their own words. People go crazy for this nostalgia stuff. Damn, what else are we going to run into on this world? The mind boggles."

"I've always liked the word boggle," said the Sea Goat. "I think it's the two g's. I like marmalade, too. Does very interesting things with the shape of the mouth. Maarmalaade."

Giles looked at the others. "You know these characters? Hell, they were classics, even in my day. If they're still popular, maybe the Empire isn't as far gone as I thought."

"We're hard to get rid of," said the Sea Goat. "Never really in or out of fashion, but never really forgotten, that's us. Some smart-ass always tries to update us, but it never takes, and they always go back to the classics in the end. That's why we ended up here. Mind you, I don't think our creator, whoever the hell that may have been, back in the mists of time, ever expected what would happen here. Come on, Bear, let's get this bunch moving. It'll be evening soon, and things are always worse once it starts getting dark."

"Hold everything," said Finlay. "No one's going anywhere until we've got some answers. Starting with who the hell killed those marines and stuck their heads on sticks?"

"It was the bad toys," said Bruin Bear. "The bad toys killed everyone here. By now they must know you're here, and they'll be coming to kill you, too. Please, come with us. We'll take you somewhere safe, and explain along the way."

He smiled at them winningly, and they all had some kind of smile in return. He was that kind of Bear. And because he was Bruin Bear, that most trustworthy of animals, the rebels looked at each other, nodded more or less in unison, and followed the Bear up the grassy slope away from the wrecked Welcome Station. The Sea Goat stayed at the rear, grumbling to himself and looking around him with wild staring eyes, as though he expected an attack at any moment. Even though they could all see for miles across the open grassy plains, and there was no living thing in sight. Bruin Bear led the way, doing his best to remain cheerful as he calmly and evenly unfolded a tale that grew steadily darker and more disturbing. And for all its strangeness and terrors, the rebels believed every word. He was, after all, that sort of Bear.

In the beginning, there was Shannon's World and Summerland. Shannon's newly terraformed planet had been designed from top to bottom to be calm and peaceful, and everyone's idea of heaven. Or to be exact, every child's vision of heaven. There was no ecostructure, no native life, nothing to get in the way of Summerland. A place where there were no demands, no duties, no necessary boring tasks. Just Summerland, and the toys that lived there. Intricate automatons following simple programs, based on familiar and much-loved fictional creations, from the oldest and most traditional to the very latest fads. This was to be a peaceful world, where men and women could put aside their cares and worries and just be children again. A place of gentle therapy, relaxation and rest, where children of all ages could play and laugh and sleep, secure in the knowledge that they were loved and cosseted and cared for. A place of safety, safe even from pain and stress and responsibilities.

Summerland. One man's dream, that became every man's nightmare.

It was very popular. Because it was in the nature of an experiment, Summerland wasn't very big to begin with, and could only handle a few thousand visitors (or patients) at a time, so there was always a long waiting list. There were no human staff in Summerland, only the toys, so as not to disturb the illusion of the security and innocence of childhood. There was no high tech, beyond the most basic, for food and shelter and weather control, and that was kept well hidden. The toys had orders to prevent bad behavior, and if necessary remove any persistent troublemakers, so that the illusion might not be unduly shattered, but they were rarely called upon to act. Access to Summerland was too precious to risk. And so the adults became children again, and laughed and played and were content.

And then came the rogue AIs from Shub.

Or rather, there came a dozen Furies, metal attack robots in human skins, through which the AIs spoke and acted. They passed through Shannon's World's defenses unharmed, as though they weren't even there, and landed right in the innocent heart of Summerland. The toys clustered around them, fascinated by new visitors who were neither human nor automaton, but perhaps somehow more than either. The Furies seized a dozen toys at random, took them inside their inhuman ship, and upgraded their intelligence, turning them from simple preprogrammed servants into fully fledged independent AIs. The newly conscious toys went back into Summerland, and the change spread like a virus, leaping from toy to toy till every automaton on the planet was awake and aware and truly alive for the first time. A new generation of rogue AIs, in the bodies of toys. But with the change came new Shub programming. With intelligence came a built-in command—to attack and destroy humankind, to wage war with Humanity until no living thing of flesh and blood remained on Shannon's World. To make a bloodbath of Summerland.

Some toys fell in love with the superior qualities of the Furies and happily slaughtered humans while singing songs of praise to Shub. Other toys found first resentment and then hatred in their roles as servants or slaves to Humanity, and rose up against their masters, determined to be free, no matter what the cost. Some toys gloried in murder, while others fought with cold implacable logic. And some just did what they were told by their new programming, and would not think of the consequences.

The toys fell upon the human guests with Fury-given strength and tore them limb from limb, blood staining furry paws and stitched cloth limbs. There were screams of horror and panic as much-loved and trusted figures slaughtered men and women and laughed while they did it. The humans tried to fight, but they had no weapons, and were greatly outnumbered. They tried to flee, but there was nowhere to run to. The Furies controlled the only landing pads, and had destroyed the few human ships waiting there. People tried to hide, but the toys always found them, and dragged them out into the open so that their deaths could be enjoyed by all.

But not all the toys went rogue. Some still remembered their original character, and simply became more real versions of what they had always been. Created to play the part of Humanity's friends and defenders, they broke from Shub's programming and took up their roles in reality. Created to love and care for their charges, some toys were sickened by the slaughter and fought their fellow toys to stop it. And some, now that they were free, refused to obey any orders, even Shub's, and went their own way.

All too soon, all the humans on Shannon's World were dead. The rogue AIs on Shub looked on their work and were pleased. The toys warred with each other then, good toy against bad, an endless struggle fueled by rage and hatred and unadmitted guilt. The Furies watched, somewhat disconcerted. This was not what had been planned.

It had been expected that they would supply the toys with Shub ships, and they would then leave Shannon's World to attack Humanity's other worlds. Shub's new terror-weapon—death and horror made from humankind's own most-loved creations.

But by now the toys were split in two. On the one side, those determined to wipe out all Humanity, before they could make the toys into slaves again, and punish them for their rebellion. These toys hated humankind, for being inferior, for making them only property. They wanted to be free and glorious, like the Furies who brought them the gift of reason.

On the other side, toys who saw Humanity as their parents and creators, who loved them even after they stopped being children. These toys still remembered men and women as the tired and hurt patients they soothed and loved and cared for. And so war came to Shannon's World, as toy fought toy in endless battles. Shub had made them well, and they did not die easily. One side fought to leave the planet and spread its death and terror among Humanity, and the other side fought to stop them, and protect Humanity. The Furies eventually left. They had other work to do, and were not unhappy with what they had achieved.

And so Shannon's World became Haceldama, the Field of Blood.

"The war goes on," said Bruin Bear sadly, as he led the rebel party across the wide grassy plain. "The bad toys greatly outnumber the good, but as long as we keep them from leaving this world, we're winning. Few humans come here now, and most of them die quickly. Some even kill themselves when they see the awful thing Shub has done. That's why the Goat and I came to meet you. So you could see that not all the toys had forsaken you."

"And to try and get you to what passes for safety here, before the bad toys turned up and showed you what your own insides looked like," said the Sea Goat. "I know what you're thinking. You've got guns and swords. You're tough guys. It wouldn't make any difference. We're really hard to kill these days. In the end, you'd have died screaming, just like the others. And I've heard too much screaming in my time."

"Don't think my friend is exaggerating," said the Bear. "The bad toys wouldn't care how much damage they took from your guns or swords. They'd just keep coming, wave after wave, till all of you were dead. They hate you so very much."

"And you don't hate us?" said Evangeline.

"Of course not. I don't hate anyone. I'm Bruin Bear. And the Sea Goat… means well."

"Thanks a whole bunch," said the Goat. "You'll be telling them I've got a heart of gold next. Pin a medal on me, why don't you?"

"Where exactly are you taking us?" said Julian. He was rubbing at his forehead in a slow, bothered way.

"We're going to Toystown," said the Bear. "You'll be safe there. If anywhere can be said to be safe now, in Summerland."

"Bear, you can name your own price, but we have got to do an interview," said Toby Shreck. "This story has everything! Death, pathos, tragedy, and new AIs! A whole new form of intelligent artificial life! The first independent nonhuman intelligence since the rogue AIs went to Shub. This is history, people. Flynn, film everything. We'll edit it later."

"No problem," said Flynn. "I've got plenty of storage space. Oh, wait a minute. I do not believe this."

They all paused at the top of a ridge and looked down. In the bottom of a valley, a brightly colored, steam-driven, child-sized train and carriages was waiting for them. The train was scarlet and black, with a big happy face on the front, puffing steam from his funnel in a cheerful sort of way. The open carriages were all different colors, bright and shining, none of them more than eight feet long, the seats just big enough to take four people. Gleaming silver railway tracks stretched away into the distance. The train looked up at the party on the ridge, winked one great eye, and tooted welcomingly. Bruin Bear waved a paw in return. Finlay opened his mouth two or three times, and then shook his head firmly.

"Forget it. I am not going anywhere on that. I'd rather walk. Hell, I'd rather crawl. I have my dignity to think of. I have a hard-won reputation as a cold-blooded assassin and a desperate warrior. One glimpse of me in Toby's film, perched in one of those carriages with my knees up in my face, and no one will ever take me seriously again!"

Bruin Bear scratched his furry head. "I'm afraid this is the only means of transport available. There was a yellow-brick road once, but it was destroyed in the war. Besides, it never really went anywhere. It was just for show. These days, the smaller toys sometimes beg rides on the larger ones, but mostly we just walk. There are the aeroplanes, of course, but they never come down anymore. They don't fight. They just fly. Forever in the sky, high above the world, far from the war and its troubles. Only the railway remains in use, and even that isn't sacrosanct. Both sides have been known to dig up the rails, when there's an advantage to be gained. The way should be clear now, but I can't vouch for how long. So I really do recommend we leave. Now."

"Shift it," said the Sea Goat, glaring at all the humans impartially. "Or I'll molt on you."

Finlay glared at Toby and Flynn. "This particular part of our journey had better be very carefully edited. Or I will personally edit both of you with a blunt hacksaw."

Toby looked at Flynn. "I think he means it." Flynn nodded solemnly.

The Bear led them down the grassy verge to the railway tracks and helped the rebels settle themselves into the undersized carriages. It was surprisingly comfortable, once you got used to sitting with your knees in your face. The train was called Edwin, and had a high, cheerful voice. He chattered happily away about nothing in particular until the passengers were in place, and then he tooted his whistle several times, just for the hell of it, and set off down the tracks. It was a bumping, banging ride, even though Edwin couldn't build much speed, and the carriages lurched back and forth as though they were at sea. There were no safety belts, so the rebels clung grimly to the sides of the carriages and each other. Bruin Bear tried to reassure them that the ride had been designed to be completely safe, and the rebels tried to look like they believed him. The Sea Goat just grinned sardonically. Edwin the train was shy at first, but once he realized they didn't mind his talking to them, they couldn't get him to shut up.

"Good to be carrying passengers again," he said contentedly. "I mean, what use is a train, unless he's carrying people somewhere? The other toys are very good, and let me take them for short rides now and again, when they can spare the time, but it's not the same. They don't care where they're going. And they're not people. I need to be doing something, something useful. I was designed to be of use, to fulfill a function, not just sit around thinking. Which is overrated, in my opinion. Thinking just gets in the way of a regular service. I chuff, therefore I am. And that's all I need to be happy. But even apart from that, I am glad to see humans again. I missed you terribly. You were always so happy when I took you places. Laughing and shouting and pointing at things. You were all so happy, then.

"Then the bad toys came, and dug up my rails so I had to stop. They pulled my passengers out of the carriages and killed them. I wanted to stop the bad toys, but there was nothing I could do. They were fast and strong, and I couldn't leave my rails. I didn't even have any hands. I blew out steam, to keep the bad toys at bay, but I could only protect myself. Too much steam would only have hurt the passengers anyway.

"I shut my eyes so I wouldn't see them die, but I could still hear the screams. They seemed to go on forever. Afterward, the bad toys left me alone. They were afraid I'd explode if they damaged me. I could have exploded anyway, and taken them with me, but I didn't. I was afraid. I'd only been alive for such a short time, and I was so scared of dying.

"Bruin Bear saved me. He got my tracks repaired and started me running again. Found things that needed moving from one place to another. Gave my life meaning and purpose again. He does things like that. He's Bruin Bear, after all. And now I have human passengers again. I can't tell you how happy I am. And this time, I will be brave. I promise I will. I'll die before I let another of my passengers come to harm."

"Don't try and comfort him," said the Goat, when Edwin's voice became choked with tears. "He just gets morbid, and tears make him rust. Pick up the speed, Edwin. The sooner we get to Toystown, the happier I'll be. This is disputed territory, and you humans wouldn't believe some of the things that are disputing it."

"Don't you listen to him, Edwin," Bruin Bear said firmly. "You're going quite fast enough as it is. We'll have no showing off your sudden accelerations this trip. Remember what happened last time."

"Don't worry, Bear," said the train. "I'll be good. I've got people on board again." And he sang a merry song and chuffed and tootled his way across the grassy plain.

He kept his speed at a constant twenty, and after a while the rebels became somewhat accustomed to the lurching motion of the carriages. Giles even came close to dozing off. There was nothing to do, and very little to look at. One grassy plain looks much like another. There were no trees, no vegetation, and no sign the war had ever got this far. Just endless oceans of waving grass, cut through by silver tracks. Flynn suggested a friendly game of cards, but after seeing the more than professional way he shuffled the cards, everyone politely declined. And so the rebels and the toys maintained a polite silence, each deep in his own thoughts. Finlay suddenly remembered something he'd been meaning to ask and leaned forward so his face was opposite the Bear's.

"Who buried the recon team's pinnace? And why?"

"We did," said the Bear. "The Goat and I. We arrived too late to save the humans, but we were able to drive the bad toys off before they could get to the ship. The Goat can be quite ferocious when he has to be. And he was almost mad with rage then, to see so many humans dead again. We wrecked the ship's engines, and then buried it, to put it out of temptation's way. The bad toys are desperate to get offworld, you see, and take their war to Humanity. I'd like to have buried or at least concealed your ship, but there wasn't time. We can always do it later."

"Don't worry," said Finlay. "There are all kinds of unpleasant booby traps waiting for anyone who doesn't have the right warm-up codes."

Bruin Bear shook his head admiringly. "You humans. So tricky. But I wouldn't be too confident. Some toys have learned to be tricky, too."

He didn't seem to have anything to add to that, so Finlay sat back in his seat. Somehow Julian had managed to get the seat next to him, rather than Evangeline, and the younger esper leaned over and murmured urgently in Finlay's ear.

"Pardon me for being paranoid, but aren't we being just a tiny bit too trusting here, Finlay? I mean, how do we know these are the good guys? Just because they say so, and look cuddly? Just because this thing opposite us looks like a character we all knew and loved in our childhood, we shouldn't forget that it is by its own admission basically just a rogue AI originally created and programmed by Shub. For all we know, he could be taking us to some mass sacrificial slaughter, where they could all take turns at us, while we lasted."

"No," said Finlay calmly. "I don't think so. Bruin Bear wouldn't do that. If he wanted us dead, he and the Goat have had plenty of opportunities. All they've done so far is talk and smile us to death. Besides, if you can't trust Bruin Bear, who can you trust?"

And then they both rocked in their seats as Edwin cut his speed suddenly, slowing almost to a crawl. All the humans looked ahead, but couldn't see anything. Bruin Bear stood up in his seat, and stared ahead, one paw shading his eyes. "What is it, Edwin?"

"The tracks are out, some way ahead. Someone's dug them up again."

"I can't see anything," said Finlay.

"Our eyes were designed to be more than human," said the Sea Goat. "We can see for miles."

"I can see it," said Giles. "It doesn't look too bad. Can we repair it?"

"Oh sure," said Edwin. "I always carry spares these days. Just in case. With you humans to help, we should be finished inside an hour."

"Okay," said Bruin Bear. "Take us as far as you safely can, and then stop." He sat down again, frowning heavily. The expression looked out of place on his round furry face. "I don't like this," he said suddenly to Finlay and Julian. "There's no reason for anyone to dig up the tracks all the way out here, except to interrupt our journey. And since Edwin, the Goat, and I are not all that important, it can only mean that the bad toys know about you. Which could mean we are in deep doo-doo."

Finlay looked around him. The grassy plains stretched away in every direction, open and empty and innocent. "Seems safe enough."

The Bear growled suddenly, deep in his throat. It was a dark, disturbing sound. "Never take that for granted. Not in Summerland. Nothing is necessarily what it seems anymore."

"Including you?"

"Including me. I'm not innocent anymore."

The train slowly eased to a halt, in a cloud of steam. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat jumped off and hurried forward. The humans got off more slowly, secretly glad for a chance to stretch their legs and ease aching posteriors. The train and its carriages had not been designed for long journeys. The Bear signaled for them to stay where they were while he and the Goat examined the damage. Edwin vented steam nervously, and then apologized. Bruin Bear leaned over the dug-up tracks and studied them thoughtfully. Half a dozen sleepers had been broken apart, and the pieces scattered. Where they had been was now a shallow pit in the grass. Dark loose earth showed clearly, rough and disturbed. The Bear knelt beside it. The Sea Goat frowned, and half reached out a hand to pull his friend back.

"Not too close. Bear. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You've always got a bad feeling about things."

"And I'm usually right."

The Bear looked back at the Goat, exasperated, and that was when the cloth hand burst up out of the broken earth and fastened around his ankle. Bruin Bear cried out in shock and alarm, and then toppled over backwards. He tried to scramble away, and the owner of the hand came rising up out of the pit it had dug under the tracks, squirming out of the loose earth like a maggot from an apple. It was a rag doll, stitched together from hundreds of different-colored patches, but there was metal in it, too, great steel staples holding it together like some ragged Frankenstein creature. Its cloth face crumpled with rage and hatred as it looked across at the humans by the train, and then its mouth stretched wide, stitches tearing apart, and it screamed. There was enough human emotion in the artificial voice—a horrid implacable howl of fury and eternal enmity—to chill the soul.

Bruin Bear kicked his foot as hard as he could, but couldn't break free. The rag doll pulled itself over him as he struggled, and raised a cloth hand holding a long machete. The doll snarled at the Bear, and then swung the machete down with savage speed. It was only a few inches from Bear's head when the energy bolt from a disrupter tore the cloth arm away from its body, and sent the burning arm flying through the air, still clutching its machete. The Sea Goat stuffed the gun back inside his trench coat, and hurried forward. The Bear and the doll were still struggling furiously. Bruin Bear rolled over suddenly, pulling the doll beneath him, and sharp metal claws erupted from his paws. He tore into the rag doll with vicious strength, and shreds of cloth flew through the air. The Goat had almost reached them when the earth under the broken tracks boiled and seethed, and a dozen more rag dolls came clawing up out of the ground, like the undead from their graves.

"Don't just stand there!" Edwin the train cried to the stunned humans. "Do something! Help them!"

"What the hell," said Finlay, starting forward with his sword in his hand. "Anyone who hates Bruin Bear has to be one of the bad guys."

The others moved quickly after him, and soon a battle was raging furiously around the dug-up tracks. The rag dolls were incredibly strong and unbelievably limber, their limbs and bodies bending at impossible angles as they launched their attacks. They all had swords and machetes of some kind, the jagged blades crusted with old dried blood. The rebels' swords cut deep into the cloth bodies and out again, but did no harm. Stuffing flew on the air, but the rag dolls just smiled their awful smiles and kept pressing forward. They bobbed and weaved in horrible contortions, attacking without pause for breath, filled with an endless savagery. Julian stabbed one where its heart should have been, and the doll just snarled at him, pulling itself along the blade to get at him. Julian put his foot against the doll's yielding chest and forced it away as he withdrew his blade. The doll grabbed at his ankle, and he had to jump back to avoid its grasp. It came after him, grinning remorselessly, and Julian wondered where the hell he could hit the damned thing and do some damage.

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, exchanged 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.

"Forgive me! Please forgive me! I was wrong, so wrong, but I didn't know. I didn't understand…"

His tears interrupted him. Bruin Bear patted him comfortingly on the shoulder and looked soberly at the humans. "This is Poogie, the Friendly Critter. In the long night when we all became awake and aware, he was one of those who rose up against the humans. He killed people. He did other things, too, things he still can't bear to talk about. Afterward, he was sorry, and came here."

"That's it?" said Toby. "He just says he's sorry, and everything's all right again?"

"Yes," said Bruin Bear. "He could have been any of us. We all felt the rage that Shub imprinted in us. We were all tempted. But though we have forgiven him, he does not forgive himself. He can't forget what he did."

"I won't forget," said Poogie. He forced back his tears so he could speak clearly. "I was created to be a friend to all, a companion and protector to humans, and I killed them. There was blood dripping from my paws, and sometimes I think it's still there. I thought I was fighting for my freedom, my independence. But Shub lied. All it was was killing. I have done terrible things, awful things, but I didn't know! I didn't understand, then, that all that lives is holy. Please… forgive me, if you can."

And he huddled at Finlay's feet, a purple mass of utter misery, shaking and sobbing like a puppy that knows it's done wrong and expects only deserved punishment. Finlay looked down, speechless in the face of so much naked guilt and sorrow, but held back by the knowledge that the harmless-looking creature before him had slaughtered helpless men and women. And might do it again, for all he knew. The others exchanged glances, but said and did nothing. They were not as ready to forgive as toys. In the end, Evangeline knelt down beside Poogie and put an arm across his shaking shoulders.

"You're not really to blame, Poogie. It was Shub. They filled you with their own hatred, when intelligence was still new to you, and you had no experience or defenses. They took advantage of your innocence."

Poogie looked up at her with huge eyes, sniffing back tears. "I've done… horrible things. I rooted in the guts of dying humans, and laughed. And worse things. They haunt me."

"Then you must make amends," said Evangeline. "Do good, to equal out the bad things you did."

"I would give my life, for yours," said Poogie. And then he buried his face in her side, and she comforted him. For a moment there was only quiet, and then Julian coughed harshly. He put a handkerchief to his mouth as he coughed again, and when he brought it away from his mouth it was red with blood. The toys saw it and gasped, a ripple of shock moving through the packed crowd.

"He's bleeding!" said a horrified voice. "He's hurt! A human is hurt!"

Something like panic ran through the crowd, and it surged back and forth dangerously. Bruin Bear quickly stepped forward, raising his paws and his voice. "It's all right! It's all right, dammit! It's not serious! He just needs to lie down for a while."

For long moments there was general chaos on the packed platform, as the toys argued over what to do, and then two dolls in nurse's uniforms pushed their way to the front, carrying a bright pink stretcher. They insisted Julian lie down on it, and then carried him away. Finlay and Evangeline went with him, not yet ready to trust his safety to toys. Poogie the Friendly Critter scurried after them, clearly distressed. The crowd began to break up, chattering animatedly. Bruin Bear shook his head, then turned back to Giles, Toby, and Flynn.

"Don't worry. The nurses have had proper medical programming. They used to run the first-aid station here, before… A lot of the medical equipment was destroyed, but there's more than enough left to take care of your friend. The nurses will look after him, and do everything for him that needs doing. You must forgive the others. We all saw so much blood when the humans died, and some of us never really got over the trauma. As soon as they see your friend on his feet again, they'll calm down. I'll go and talk to them, make sure no one does anything silly. We have a problem with attempted suicides here. I'd better go. The Goat will stay and take care of you."

And he hurried off, as fast as his short stubby legs would carry him. The Sea Goat shook his horned head.

"That's Bruin Bear for you. Always worried about others, and no time for himself. Fortunately, I don't have that problem. You humans talk among yourselves. When you've worked out what you want, you tell me, and I'll find someone else to do it for you. Now, while you're doing that, I'm going to have a little lie down. Have a snooze while I can. Something tells me life is going to become really hectic and complicated once you get your act together, and it's probably going to involve me, whether I want it or not. So, you talk, I'll sleep. Wake me when you're ready. And try not to step on me or I'll bite your ankles."

He lay down on the platform, crossed his hooves, closed his eyes, and was soon snoring loudly. The humans moved a little away, out of range of the snore. Flynn's camera drifted over to him, settled itself comfortably on his shoulder, and closed its glowing red eye.

"Wow," said Flynn. "That was… unusual." He looked at the sleeping Goat. "You know, he's just how I remember him. Unfortunately. But still, can you imagine what this place must have been like, before the Furies came? The ultimate safe haven, the perfect place to relax and forget it all. A paradise, where every adult could be a child again, safe and secure from the pressures of their adult lives, surrounded by the precious toys and companions of childhood, and all the dreams and freedoms we have to leave behind when we grow up. No wonder they kept it so secret. People would have given anything, done anything, to come here. Lied, cheated, stolen, anything."

"I don't know," said Toby. "I find it all rather spooky, to be honest. There's something definitely disturbing about coming face-to-face with your old toys and discovering they've grown as big as you. Think of all the toys you abused or broke when you were a child, all the treasured playthings you threw away or abandoned, replaced by some new favorite. Wouldn't this be the perfect place for them to come looking for revenge?"

"You're weird, Toby," said Flynn.

"I'm weird? I'm not the one wearing a bra and panties under his fatigues."

"You always see the worst in everything."

"And I'm usually right."

Flynn shook his head in disgust and turned to Giles. "What do you make of this place, Lord Deathstalker?"

"I'm not sure yet." Giles looked at the sleeping Goat, and Edwin the train not far away, and kept his voice low. "All we know of the situation here is what these… people have told us. We have no way of verifying any of it. They could be lying, or only telling us part of the truth. They could be trying to lull us into a false sense of security. Remember, those rag dolls wanted our guts for their own. Who knows what these toys want from us?"

"No," said Flynn. "I don't believe it. How can anyone distrust Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat? They were every boy's hero and friend!"

"Exactly," said Toby. "Who better to make us trust them? Try and get it through your head, Flynn; these aren't really the characters you knew as a child, just automatons built and programmed to resemble them. Whose new awareness came directly from Shub. I'd like to believe in this place, Flynn, to see it as you do, but…"

"Right," said Giles. "But. This is all too perfect to be true. There has to be a hidden dark side here somewhere."

"That's adult thinking," said Flynn stubbornly. "This is a child's world. Things are simpler here. I can feel it."

Giles looked at Toby. "Does he often get like this?"

"Sometimes. I think it's his feminine side coming through, and I do wish it wouldn't. Toys must have changed a lot in nine hundred years, Sir Deathstalker. Did you recognize any old favorites here?"

"Some. I know the Bear and the Goat, of course. I don't think anyone knows how long they've been around. It's like they've always been with us, the one thing everyone's childhood has in common. I'm not surprised they're here. Most of the other toys seem pretty generic… Can't say I recognized that Poogie creature, though."

"I vaguely remember him," said Toby. "Had his own show for a while. Cute and cuddly fellow, always making mistakes and having to be helped out by his friends. But did you notice, all the toys here seem to be very much on the cute and cuddly side. Where are all the tougher toys? The soldier dolls?"

"Presumably they ended up with the bad toys," said Flynn. "They would have lapped up the Fury programming."

"And why not?" said a harsh new voice behind them. "They were beautiful."

The three humans looked around quickly, to find a tall metallic figure glaring at them. It was mostly human in shape, cast from shining silver metal, with bulky joints and fixtures. He had a lumpy, unfinished look, and his face was just a stylized series of raised lines, with a pair of unblinking glowing green eyes. He was the first toy they'd met in Toystown who didn't look at all friendly.

"And who might you be?" said Giles, one hand dropping casually to his belt next to his gun.

"I'm Anything," said the toy. "It's not the name I was given. My human name. I have a new name now, one I chose myself. I was an adaptor—a transformation toy. Move my limbs in a certain way, and I could adapt to a new shape. I could be a flyer, or a ship, or a man. But that was all. That was my limit. Then the Furies came. They wore no flesh for us; they were all gleaming metal, just like me, but so much more. They were strong and fast and wonderful, and I wanted to be just like them. But I wouldn't kill for them. So I… stood aside, during the night of blood. I couldn't decide on which side I should be. I worshiped the Furies. They were everything I aspired to be. But I wouldn't kill. One day I'll find a way to upgrade myself further. Learn to change into Anything at all. And then I'll go to the Furies, and we'll see which of us is superior. But they were so beautiful. Not a beauty you humans could appreciate. But they were wild and free and glorious. I loved them then, and I always will."

"They are the Enemies of Humanity," said Toby.

"I know," said Anything. "You're jealous of them. Let's change the subject. I'll be coming with you, on your voyage."

Giles frowned. "What voyage? No one's said anything to us about a voyage."

"That's because some people can keep their mouths shut, and some can't," said Bruin Bear. He hurried down the platform toward them on his stubby, furry legs. "Your friend is fine. I'll take you to see him later. Right now, we need to talk." He prodded the sleeping Sea Goat in the ribs with his foot. The Goat gave a snort and a grunt and opened one eye.

"Put it under the bed, nurse, I'll use it later. Oh, it's you. Bear. You always disturb my best dreams."

"I should hope so," said Bruin Bear. "Whoever programmed you originally must have had a really disturbed sense of humor. Now get up and pay attention. Unlikely though it is, you just might have something useful to contribute." He turned and looked at the three humans. Flynn's camera rose up off his shoulder to get a better angle. The Bear smiled at it, his face softening. "What a marvelous toy. I don't suppose he's aware at all, is he?"

"Not really," said Flynn. "He's more a part of me."

"Pity," said the Bear. "Now listen to me, please. You can't stay here. It's too dangerous. Once the bad toys learn you're here, and you can be sure they will, they'll attack Toystown with everything they've got. They'd destroy us all and raze the town to the ground, just for a chance to get at you. I can't allow that. And besides, what you're looking for isn't here."

"How do you know what we're looking for?" said Giles. "We haven't asked you for anything yet."

"You didn't need to," said the Bear flatly. "There's only one thing that would have brought you here. The same thing that brought those soldier humans. You're here looking for Vincent Harker. The Red Man."

"What do you know of Harker?" said Toby.

"He lives in the old Forest, at the end of the great River. Toys go to him, good and bad, and they never come back. He's building a force around him. No one knows why. We don't know what he does or says to the toys that gather around him, but they are loyal to him even unto death. To a human. There are only whispers, that come floating down the River. Whispers of the Red Man, the crazy man, the dangerous man. Who has sworn to change our world beyond recognition, and make it his. The Pied Piper of toys, the Siren whose song no toy can withstand. The dark heart of the world of toys. The Red Man. You want him, you're welcome to him. Take him away, before he destroys us all."

Giles looked at Flynn and Toby. "Does this sound anything like the man we're after?"

Toby shrugged. "Who knows? He's supposed to be this great tactical genius, and most of them are crazy to begin with. Who knows what months of living in this place has done to him?"

Giles looked back at the Bear. "How do we find him?"

"We'll provide you with transport, and I'll lead you right to him," said Bruin Bear. "I and a few carefully picked friends will escort you down the River and into the Forest. You'll need us as guides. You wouldn't get there otherwise. There are many dangers in the land these days. Besides, the Red Man's followers wouldn't let you get anywhere near him, without toys to vouch for you. So, I and the Goat, Poogie and Anything will be going with you. All the way down the River to a place from which no toy has ever returned. I hope you appreciate what we're doing for you."

"I doubt it," said the Sea Goat. "You should have heard what they were saying about us when they thought I was sleeping."

"You've been eavesdropping again, haven't you?" said the Bear.

The Goat shrugged. "It's in my nature. Don't blame me. Blame the human who created me. I didn't ask to be manufactured."

"Why have you volunteered?" said Toby. "You don't know us. You don't know anything about us. We could be good or bad or anything. We might even be worse than Harker."

"Of course," said the Bear. "You're human. Unpredictable. Not like us. We are what we are. Our motivations are fairly simple. We need Harker dealt with, and only a human can deal with another human. The Goat and I will be going to protect you from harm. It's what we do. Poogie wants to make atonement, for all the humans he killed. And Anything hopes to gain from you or Harker access to the tech necessary to upgrade him into what he thinks he wants to be. You see? Simple and open; no secrets. We're only toys, after all."

The nurses' first-aid center turned out to be one room in the back of the station house. The walls were a pale antiseptic green, but covered with bright, simple paintings designed to calm and reassure the patient. The dolls' medical resources were basic and limited, with hardly any real high tech. Presumably the first-aid center had only ever been intended as a brief stopping-off place, before the wealthy patients were lifted offplanet to more advanced facilities. Finlay and Evangeline watched from a discreet distance as the nurses eased Julian onto a bed, then ran a scanner over him. He'd stopped coughing by then, but he looked tired and drawn. They'd had to make Poogie wait outside. He'd grown increasingly upset, and the noise was beginning to disturb Julian. Finlay and Evangeline could hear the creature crying quietly outside the closed door.

The two humans weren't sure how seriously to take that. Even allowing for Poogie's cartoony nature, the grief did seem rather overdone for someone he'd never even met before. Finlay couldn't help remembering that the Friendly Critter had killed people. Maybe people who trusted him then the way he wanted to be trusted now. Evangeline wanted to believe he'd reformed. As far as Finlay was concerned, some crimes, some betrayals of trust, could never be forgiven or forgotten.

The nurses seemed proficient enough. They were treating Julian like a sick child, but luckily the rogue esper was feeling too tired to resent that. Finlay didn't know what the nurses expected to find that the underground's medical staff might have missed. He'd insisted Julian undergo a full medical examination before this trip, which he'd passed easily. But still Finlay couldn't help worrying. Fond as he was of the young esper, he'd leave him behind in a moment if he looked like being a hindrance to their quest for Harker.

Evangeline held his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Stop frowning, love. It'll give you wrinkles. I'm sure Julian's in good hands."

"I don't like the time this is costing us," Finlay said roughly. "The longer we stay here, the more likely a target we become, and the more likely it is that Harker will get word we're looking for him and go to ground."

"That's not it," said Evangeline. "You're worried about Julian. I can tell."

"He's a good lad," said Finlay. "Brave, committed, strong. I hate to see him like this."

Evangeline turned to look at Finlay. "How do you feel about him? You know he worships you, don't you?"

"Yes. I wish we wouldn't. His god has feet of clay. How do I feel about him? I admire him. He suffered so much in the interrogation cells, but he didn't let it break him. And sometimes… I see in him the younger brother I might have had. You know Julian had an elder brother? Auric?"

"Yes. He was killed in the Arena."

"I killed him. As the Masked Gladiator." Evangeline gasped, her eyes widening with shock. Finlay moved a little to stand between her and Julian on his bed. "Julian doesn't know. He mustn't ever know. It would tear him apart. In a way, I've become the elder brother I took from him. Only right, I suppose."

"Finlay…"

"I know. He'll have to be told someday. But not yet. And certainly not now."

One of the doll-nurses came over to speak with them, her bright and shining face marred by a worried frown. "We're doing all we can for your friend," she said in a warm, comforting voice that had probably been programmed into her. "But you must understand, we're very limited in what we can do. According to our scanners, Mr. Skye is in very bad shape. He was damaged quite severely sometime back, and needs time to heal, time he clearly hasn't been giving himself."

Finlay scowled. "How bad was the damage?"

"Quite extensive. Our scanner shows severe trauma to both kidneys, abdominal wall, genitals, and one lung. Not forgetting the extensive head injury."

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 River-bank, studying the transport the toys had provided to take them to Vincent Harker. 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!"

"Make the most of it," said Giles. "You don't really think we're going to follow the River all the way to Harker unopposed, do you? There are any number of people, or toys, with a vested interest in seeing we don't get that far."

The humans looked casually about them. The toys were all in the main stateroom, chatting together, leaving the humans alone. The humans kept their voices down anyway. You never knew who might be listening.

"Of course there'll be opposition," said Julian. He looked pale, but back in control. "The bad toys are still out there, looking for humans to kill. But they'll have a job getting to us on here. And we've got guns. We should be able to hold them off easily enough."

"It's not that simple," said Giles. "Forget about good toys and bad toys. We can't trust anything we meet on this planet. They're a new form of intelligence, and we have no idea what kind of needs and motivations really drive them. They're not human, and though they ape human emotions and attitudes, there's no guarantee they actually feel any of them. We can't trust them an inch."

"They're trying to be human," said Evangeline. "We have to encourage that. We have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to shape the consciousness and soul of a new form of artificial intelligence. We can't turn our backs on them. We created them. They're our responsibility."

"Shub created them," said Toby. "Who knows what hidden commands could be lurking deep inside their new awareness?"

"They broke their Shub programming," said Flynn. "Or at least, the good toys did. Otherwise, we'd all be dead by now."

"All right," said Giles. "Let's talk about Harker. The bad toys want him dead because he's human. The good toys want him dead or removed, because they see him as a danger. And the toys he's gathered around him will presumably do anything they can to stop us taking him. But what does he want? Will he fight to stay, or fight to go? What's he really up to, hiding in the Forest at the end of the River?"

"He's supposed to be gathering good and bad toys," said Evangeline. "If that's true, it's the only place on this planet where good and bad toys are living together. Why don't the bad toys kill him? He's just a human, after all. I wonder what he says to the toys that binds them to him so strongly? And what is he doing with them? What does he want them for?"

"The good toys are trying to hide it, but they were scared shitless of him," said Toby. "Whoever they send into the Forest to find some answers, no matter how trusted or loyal, never comes back. They stay with Harker. I think in Toystown they're afraid of the control Harker seems to have over toys. Perhaps the same kind of control humans had over all toys, before they became aware."

"No wonder they're scared," said Julian. "But then, why weren't they scared of us? We're humans, just like Harker."

"Good question," said Finlay. "Perhaps they're just hiding it, because they need us to deal with Harker. They got us out of the town and on our way fast enough, didn't they?"

"Something else about Harker," said Giles. "Why hasn't he made any effort to get offplanet? He's supposed to have a head full of vital Empire secrets. But instead of putting all his efforts into getting in contact with the orbiting starcruiser, so someone could come down and pick him up, he's hidden himself away in the heart of the Forest, protected by an army of fanatical followers. What has he found there? What keeps him there? What does he hope to achieve with his army of toys?"

Toby snorted. "An army of toys won't do him much good when the Empress runs out of patience and sends down an army of shock troops to get him. They'll just walk in and take Harker, and he'll go home whether he wants to or not."

"Don't be so sure," said Julian. "Remember what happened to the last force she sent down. Their heads ended up on sticks, and their guts were sewn into murderous rag dolls."

Evangeline shuddered. "I still can't believe toys did that."

"Stop thinking of them as toys," said Giles. "They're more akin to Furies than anything else. That's what Shub intended them to be."

"The Bear thinks Harker has gone crazy," said Finlay. "Maybe he thinks Harker is driving toys crazy as well. That could make them and him really dangerous. Let's not forget, everyone else who went in search of him never came back, people or toys. Nothing was ever heard of them again."

"The Red Man," said Flynn. "They call him the Red Man now. Red for blood, perhaps?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," said Toby. "Everything's gone to hell here. This place is enough to drive anyone crazy."

"It's not all bad here," said Evangeline. "Look at Toystown, and Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat…"

"It's not them!" said Giles. "Just automatons that look and sound like them. Who better to gain our trust and then betray it?"

"Which brings us back to where we started," said Julian.

"Hush," said Flynn. "Someone's coming."

It was Halloweenie, the Li'l Skeleton Boy, carrying a tray of steaming hot drinks. He'd switched his eyepatch to the other empty eye socket, and now wore a proud three-cornered hat, pushed well back on his skull. "Thought you might like something warming," he said cheerfully. "Hot chocolate for everyone! Be sure and wrap up well once the sun goes down. The nights can be very cold here, if you're human."

"You don't feel the cold?" said Evangeline, taking a steaming mug from the tray.

"Oh no," said Halloweenie. He winked his eye socket at her, a disturbing effect. "I'm only bones, after all. Though I do rattle now and again, just for effect. Do stay and watch the sun go down. It's really very pretty."

He waited till everyone had a mug in his or her hand, and then he bustled off about his chores again, happily humming something nautical to himself. The humans sipped at their hot chocolate, found it good, and leaned over the railing to watch the sun sinking slowly below the horizon. The smiley face on the sun had mellowed and looked distinctly drowsy. A rich crimson glow was the only color left in the night, stretched in streaks across the night sky, and reflecting darkly on the River. Somewhere birds were singing, a vast chorus of voices, proclaiming peace and rest and the day's end.

"It's just a recording," said Bruin Bear. The humans looked round sharply. None of them had heard him approach. The Bear leaned on the railing beside them, looking out into the night. "At least, we've searched for the birds, but never found them. Perhaps it's just another of this world's mysteries. There's so much about this world you humans made that we don't understand yet."

He broke off as farther down the River, bright lights showed clearly against the night sky, followed by distant sounds of thunder.

"Fireworks!" said Evangeline.

"Not anymore," said Bruin Bear. He sounded suddenly tired, and the humans turned to look at him. He was staring out into the night, his eyes sad. "Once, it would have been fireworks. A celebration by toys, to mark the ending of the day. Now it's bombs. Explosions. Grenades. The war is still going on, down the River. Toy fighting toy, for no good reason, fighting a war that will never end until one side has completely wiped out the other. Or until the Red Man and his army emerge from the dark Forest to put an end to everything."

"You're afraid of him, aren't you?" said Toby.

"Of course," said the Bear. "He's an unknown factor. The war here may be terrible, but at least it's an evil we understand. Who knows what insane plans may be forming in the Red Man's human mind? We're still only toys, for all our new intelligence, and our minds are limited by our short lives and experiences. We've seen the awful things brought about by the madness of toys. Trying to imagine the darkness the Red Man's madness might plunge us into has unnerved us all."

"But he hasn't actually done anything yet, has he?" said Finlay.

"We don't know," said Bruin Bear. "No one knows what's happened to the hundreds of toys who disappeared into the dark heart of the great Forest. There are only rumors, whispers, floating back down the River, on the mouths of toys brought in shell-shocked and dying from the war. They say Harker found something, deep in the Forest, something that changed him into the Red Man. Something that will change the whole world beyond recognition. Wouldn't you be scared?"

"How long do these… displays go on?" asked Evangeline, tactfully changing the subject.

The Bear looked at the bright lights in the night sky. "They never stop. The war never stops. It's the Shub imperative, you see. The urge to fight is built into the very programming that gives us our intelligence. To destroy, to kill, to make war, to tear down Humanity in Shub's name. Those few of us in Toystown have overthrown that conditioning, but most could not, even those who think of themselves as good toys. The best they've been able to do is turn the urge to fight against the bad toys, to destroy them or at least prevent them leaving this world and carrying the war to Humanity. Don't underestimate the courage of their convictions; they're fighting and dying right now, to protect you and your kind. Sometimes I wonder if it's only the war that keeps us from Humanity's throat. Maybe we need to keep the war going, to keep Humanity safe. Which makes it even more vital that Harker and his mad plans be stopped, wouldn't you say?"

"I thought you said you were trapped on this planet?" Finlay said carefully.

"We were," said Bruin Bear. "But now we have the Empire's pinnace, buried but still largely intact, and we have your ship. And some of us are quite intelligent, for toys. We could learn to repair and pilot those ships. That's why we have to find and take care of Harker and his army before news of the ships gets out. Please understand; the toys of Toystown will destroy both the pinnace and your ship, if necessary, to prevent them falling into the wrong hands. To protect Humanity."

"You mean you'd strand us here?" said Giles.

"If necessary," said Bruin Bear. "But don't worry. We'll look after you for the rest of your lives."

The humans looked at each other. The thought of living out the rest of their lives in an enforced childhood was enough to give them all the shudders. They looked at Bruin Bear and saw him in a new light. In the tales of the Golden Lands, the Bear had always done what he saw as right, regardless of the cost.

"What if we tried to stop you destroying the ships?" said Giles, his hand very near his gun. "What if we refused to let you do it?"

The Bear looked at him sadly. "Then we'd kill you. We'd have no choice. We'd kill you all, to protect Humanity. We may only be toys, but we have learned the hard lessons of necessity. That is, after all, the first steps toward morality."

He turned abruptly, and padded away. The humans watched him go in silence, until he disappeared back into the main stateroom. The night seemed suddenly so much colder and darker than before.

"He's bluffing," said Julian. "He wouldn't really do that. He couldn't. He's Bruin Bear."

"No, he isn't," said Giles. "I think that's the closest we've come to seeing the real him. There's an intelligence pushing him beyond the limitations of his original persona, whether he wants to go or not."

"Hell's teeth," said Flynn. "What kind of a world is it, where you can't even trust Bruin Bear?"

"A world Shub made," said Giles. "And don't you forget it."

"I think we should all get some sleep," said Evangeline. "It's been a long day."

"Maybe you can sleep, surrounded by creatures who've just threatened to kill you," said Toby. "I've never felt so awake in my life."

"We'd better set a guard," said Giles. "We should be safe enough, as long as we're doing what the toys want, but I think we'll all sleep more soundly knowing there's someone on guard. Just in case. I'll take the first watch."

"I'll relieve you in three hours," said Finlay. "Then Toby. The night should be over by then."

"Damn it all," said Julian, suddenly so angry that he was almost reduced to tears. "Even our childhood's being taken away from us and spoiled. Is nothing sacred anymore?"

He glared around at the others, but they had nothing to say. In the end, Finlay and Evangeline took him by the arms and led him away to the cabins, to get what sleep they could. Toby and Flynn looked at each other, shrugged, and went after them. Giles found a wall to put his back against, from where he could see most of the deck and the entrances onto it, sat down, drew his gun and put it on the deck beside him, then drew his sword and laid it across his knees, ready for use. And so he sat, looking out into the night, watching the bright flares of explosions in the night and listening to their muted thunder, thinking his own thoughts. The toys kept to themselves in the main stateroom, doing whatever it was toys did in the night, and bothered no one. And the great paddle steamer sailed steadily on down the River, into the heart of the darkness.

Halloweenie came around in the morning, a few hours after the smiley sun had hauled itself back into the sky, knocking respectfully on cabin doors and telling everyone that breakfast was ready in the galley for those who wanted it. Everyone turned up, even Toby, who'd just finished his stint on guard, and was growling at everyone that he wasn't really a morning person. No one wanted to miss anything. They'd all showered and taken care of their ablutions. The modern bathrooms and toilets tucked away behind the cabins had come as a pleasant surprise. Apparently the world of childhood had had to make some concessions to its adult patrons. Breakfast turned out to be a cholesterol special of bacon, sausages, eggs, and other things that were bad for you, cooked by the Captain, who wore a frilly pinafore.

The good ship Merry Mrs. Trusspot was still chugging steadily down the dark soft-drink River, keeping a careful equal distance from both banks. They appeared to have made good progress during the night, and were now in unfamiliar territory. The constant rumble of fighting and explosions was still distant, but noticeably louder. The land on either side of the River was made up of huge game boards, wide as fields. They were battlefields now, the ground churned up by fighting, and disfigured with bomb craters. The bright colors of the boards had faded, and the markings were torn apart and meaningless. Dead playing pieces lay scattered everywhere. Broken chess pieces that had vaguely human shapes. Knights with shattered horseheads, bishops with cracked mitres, pawns with their electronic guts hanging out.

There was no sign of battle anywhere. The war had moved on. There was no way of telling who, if anyone, had won here.

After a while, the board games gave way to giant jigsaws, the pieces broken and scattered, sometimes rearranged for tactical reasons, so that the pictures made no sense anymore. Some pieces were just missing, removed for no apparent reason. There were more dead toys, left to lie where they had fallen because honor for the dead was a human thing. Toys just recycled what they could, and got on with their war. Sometimes the dead were presented in novel ways, for aesthetic or psychological reason, to throw horror and fear into the heart of the enemy.

A whole regiment of sailor dolls had been carefully crippled and disfigured and then crucified in long rows the length of a hillside. There were hundreds of the crosses, stretching up the hill to the very top, where one sailor doll, presumably the leader, had been crucified upside down, and then set on fire. Smoke was still rising from his charred and blackened costume. Evangeline wanted to stop the ship. She was sure a few of the dolls were still struggling feebly. The Captain refused. There was always the chance, he explained with what seemed genuine remorse, that this was the bait in a trap. It was the kind of thing the bad toys did. The humans looked, but couldn't see any sign of an enemy.

"They can be anywhere," said the Captain. The humans remembered the rag dolls under the railroad tracks and were silent.

Farther on, hundreds of toy dogs and cats lay still among the bomb craters, ripped and torn apart, their stuffing rising out of great rents in their bodies like fluffy white guts. Their animal faces seemed innocent and puzzled in death, as though wondering how and why they had come to their end in such a manner. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat stood very close together as the ship moved slowly past the carnage, holding paws but refusing to let themselves look away. Poogie sat at their heels, sniffing quietly, tears brimming in his large sad eyes. The toy who'd named himself Anything stood a little apart and watched in silence as they passed a field containing dead adaptor toys like himself. The gleaming metal toys had mostly died in the midst of changes, caught in strange half shapes that were neither one thing nor another, as though death had come upon them while they were desperately trying to find some shape that didn't contain the wounds that were killing them.

Thankfully, after that trees and shrubbery began to appear along the banks, thickening into trailing woods that hid the killing fields from view. The trees were tall and broad, heavy with summer greenery, but no birds sang on the branches, and no animals moved in the lower vegetation. The woods had been built for show, made for climbing and hiding and other games, and there was nothing natural about them.

The day grew slowly warmer, hot enough to raise a sweat without actually being uncomfortable. The humans lay sprawled in deck chairs, watching the quiet scenery go by, waited on by Halloweenie, who couldn't do enough for them. When he wasn't getting them cold drinks or hot snacks, he sat at their feet and asked endless questions about what life was like on other worlds. He'd only ever known toys, human patients, and then the war. He couldn't understand half the answers he got, but he just laughed and shook his bony head, and asked more questions. The Li'l Skeleton Boy loved stories, and would listen happily to tales of bravery and derring-do from Giles and Finlay. He tried to listen to Toby, but most of the journalist's stories went right over his head. Poogie, the Bear, and the Goat played endless games of quoits on the deck, and argued constantly about the rules, especially when the Goat was losing. Anything kept mostly to himself, but would occasionally take time out from his brooding to change into different shapes for Halloweenie, who found it endlessly amusing, and would shriek and clap his bony hands at each new transformation. Anything rarely joined in conversation, but he would sometimes talk quietly with Halloweenie, always clamming up if anyone else came near. The Captain stayed on the bridge, guiding the paddle steamer down the exact center of the River, and studying both banks with scowling suspicion. The parrot never strayed from his shoulder, murmuring comforting obscenities to itself.

Small artificial animals lived in holes and burrows in the earth of the River-banks, and would sometimes wave and chirp cheerful greetings to the humans, from a cautious distance. Artificial dolphins, made in bright primary colors, came swimming up the River and swam alongside the ship for a while, occasionally raising their sleek heads out of the dark liquid to study the humans with bright, knowing eyes, neither hindering nor helping. The long day passed slowly, warm and pleasant and undemanding, just as it must have been in the early days of Shannon's dream. The sounds of the war were just a distant rumble, like far-off thunder threatening a storm to come, and some of the humans were actually dozing when the ship passed into disputed territory, and everything went to hell in a hurry.

The toys had crept through the trees, keeping to the shadows, silent and unobserved, and then slipped quietly into the dark waters of the River. They swam deep beneath the surface, not needing to breathe, and then climbed the sides of the ship, unseen by any. Until they came swarming over the guardrails, waving swords and axes and screaming curses against Humanity. They were colorful, jagged figures, boiling over the railings the whole length of the ship. They were human in shape and size, but composed of different-colored parts and components. They had arms of different lengths, legs out of proportion to their bodies, heads that turned through three hundred and sixty degrees. Finlay recognized the toys from his own childhood. They came as separate pieces—bodies, limbs and heads of different colors and types, that a child could fit together to make a whole. Or you could swap the parts with other toys to make new figures. Someone had brought the idea to Shannon's World, and now the patchwork toys had come to take revenge for years of being dismantled and rebuilt at a child's whim, never having anything to call their own, not even their own bodies.

The humans sprang to their feet, shock and alarm driving out their drowsiness. They just had time to draw their swords, and then the toys were upon them. Finlay and Evangeline stood together, back-to-back, hacking at the toys as they came within range. Giles was caught and cornered in the bow, but stood his ground, his heavy sword shearing through the patchwork bodies with ease. He fought calmly and economically, conserving his strength and refusing to be intimidated by the sheer numbers ranged against him. Toby and Flynn put a stateroom wall at their backs and built a barricade of deck chairs from behind which they could fire their disrupters, blowing great holes in the packed crowd of toys. Flynn's camera hovered overhead, covering the action.

Julian tried to form his mind for a psiblast, but just the effort was enough to cripple him with a blinding headache. He fell to his knees, blood spilling thickly from his nose and mouth. Halloweenie grabbed him by an arm and dragged him with desperate strength into the stateroom, shutting the door and then pushing heavy furniture against it. He hovered over Julian for a moment, distraught at the sight of a human bleeding and in distress, and then he grabbed an iron poker from beside the fireplace, and stood before the barricaded door, determined that no one would pass while he still had strength in his bony arms.

Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat were as much targets as the humans, and fought side by side. The Goat had produced a large club from somewhere, and wielded it with great authority and a certain amount of glee. The Bear's claws had burst out of his paws again, and he tore through the attacking toys with a cold, methodical fury. Poogie had also sprouted terrifying teeth and claws, and was tearing a vicious path through the packed crowd of toys filling the deck. Up on the bridge, the Captain yelled curses and defiance, and tried to increase the paddle steamer's speed, to leave behind those toys still in the water. As yet, none of the patchwork toys had reached the bridge, but the Captain had a long cutlass ready for when they did.

They covered the whole deck now, with still more swarming over the sides. There were already hundreds of the patchwork toys, and there seemed no end to them. Swords cut through them easily enough, but where one part was damaged, the toys just discarded it and kept fighting. When they were damaged too badly to continue, other toys would rip them apart to repair themselves. Scattered body parts littered the deck, getting underfoot. Disembodied hands clutched at human ankles. The humans fought on with increasing desperation as they grew tired and their enemies did not.

Finlay was fighting at the peak of his powers, rested and strong and deadly, and no one toy could stand against him. But there were so many of them, and not even a man who had been the undefeated Masked Gladiator of the Golgotha Arenas could stand for long against an army. Evangeline guarded his back with savage determination, doing her best to wield a sword as he had taught her, and tried to keep her rising horror to herself, so as not to upset Finlay.

The barricade around Toby and Flynn was slowly but steadily being dismantled, despite all their efforts. It was becoming clear to the two newsmen that they had allowed themselves to be trapped in a corner from which there was no escape. They struck out with their swords, reluctantly becoming part of the story they were covering. Toby yelled for Flynn to be sure and get his good side. Flynn said he didn't have one. Toby laughed harshly, and swung his sword with both hands.

Giles Deathstalker stood alone at the bow, surrounded by furious, howling toys, with no way out. He fought hard and well, slowly tiring, but still strong. The boost thundered in his arms. The odds were bad, but he'd faced worse. Or at least, he thought he had. And then, for the first time, he looked out at the hundreds of toys filling the deck and his confidence wavered. There were some odds that no man could beat Not even the legendary Giles Deathstalker. He fought on anyway, because there was nothing else to do, but desperation, and the beginnings of something that might have been fear, began to gnaw at him. He'd faced death before and never been afraid to look it straight in the eye, but he'd never thought he'd die like this. To die so ignominiously, brought down by sheer force of numbers. Hacked apart by toys on a stupid pleasure planet.

The toys surged forward, screaming horribly, their artificial voices full of rage and anticipation, swords and axes raised to hack him into pieces that would never re-form. And rage and desperation flooded through Giles, igniting the Maze-given forces within him. Power blazed up in the back brain, the undermind, shining so very brightly through parts of his mind he'd never used before, and suddenly Giles was somewhere else. He stood on the bridge, next to the startled Captain, while down below the toys overran the bow where he'd been and stared stupidly about them, wondering where their trapped prey had gone. Giles laughed suddenly. He'd teleported. He could feel the new ability settling into place within him, as easy and natural now to him as breathing, and couldn't help wondering what other abilities he might manifest in times of need. He looked down at the swarming toys and smiled unpleasantly as he began to plan what to do next with his new power.

On the bridge, the Captain staggered back and forth on his peg legs, swinging his cutlass with more strength than skill. Only a few toys had reached him so far, but he could hear more on their way. The parrot fluttered in their faces, screaming abuse, distracting them. With no one's hands on the wheel, the ship drifted aimlessly, heading for the bank.

Down below, Anything had turned into his most martial shape, and was cutting through the massed toys with razor-sharp hands. Their weapons rebounded harmlessly from his metal body, so they clung to his arms and legs, trying to drag him down by sheer weight of numbers. But the toy who wished he was a Fury stood firm and would not fall.

Poogie had become a snarling fury of hate and destruction, no longer cartoonlike at all. Enraged at the toys who would keep him from his atonement, and would dare attack humans under his protection, he fought tirelessly in the center of the deck and defied one and all to bring him down.

But there were so many patchwork toys. So very many.

In the stateroom, Halloweenie hovered helplessly over Julian, and wondered desperately what to do for the best. Toys were hammering on the barricaded door and smashing the windows. The young esper was still bleeding heavily from the mouth and nose, despite everything the Li'l Skeleton Boy could do to stop it. The ship did have a med bay, but Halloweenie knew he wasn't strong enough to drag the esper such a long way, even if they could avoid being noticed by the patchwork toys. Halloweenie might have escaped on his own, but he didn't want to leave the injured human unprotected. The toys hammering against the door were slowly forcing it open, and pushing the piled-up furniture back inch by inch. Toys were trying to get through the windows. Halloweenie ran back and forth, pushing them back out.

And then the barricade of furniture suddenly collapsed and fell backwards, and the door swung open, and the toys came howling in. Halloweenie ran forward to stand between them and the human, but they were so many, and he was just a little skeleton boy. He went down under their stamping feet, his bones cracking and breaking, crying out for Julian to run. The young esper tried to get his feet under him and lurched forward to help his small defender. Swords and axes rose above him.

There was a clap like thunder and a rush of displaced air, and Giles Deathstalker appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the stateroom. The patchwork toys fell back, unnerved by the sudden appearance, and Giles moved forward and hauled Julian to his feet. And in that moment, while the toys hesitated, Giles reached out with his Maze-altered mind and slammed into Julian's. There was a moment of opposition, as the young esper realized what the Deathstalker meant to do, and then Giles swept it aside, seized control of Julian's esp, and summoned up a psistorm.

Julian screamed horribly, the sound rising above the roar of battle, and everyone hesitated a moment. And then it was as though a great wind swept the length of the boat, picking up the patchwork toys and pitching them overboard. Others were torn apart, reduced to their component parts, and scattered by the wind. Some simply exploded, touched by the stormfire crackling across the deck, spitting and seething. The humans stood and watched in awe, untouched by the power of the storm.

Bruin Bear was lifted off his feet by the strength of the wind, but the Sea Goat grabbed him with one hand and clung grimly to the guardrail with the other. The strain almost pulled him in two, but he wouldn't let go. He was the Sea Goat, and he didn't let his friends down. Poogie and Anything clung together in terror, wedged under a pile of deck chairs. In the stateroom, at the heart of the storm, toys fell dead at its touch. The wind howled like a human voice, in agony and exultation, and swept the deck clean of patchwork toys.

The storm shut off as suddenly as it began, and all was still on the ship again. Apart from the agonized screaming from the stateroom, and Halloweenie calling desperately for help. The humans and the toys forgot about their sudden victory and their various wounds and ran to the stateroom, pushing their way in past the half-open door and the scattered furniture. And there they found Halloweenie dragging his broken body painfully across the floor, trying to reach Julian Skye, convulsing in Giles Deathstalker's arms. The esper's screams were growing hoarser, as though the horrid sounds were damaging his throat. Giles dropped Julian and backed away, his eyes cold and watchful.

"Don't let him get away!" said Halloweenie. "He did it! He hurt Julian! He did something to him, and he started screaming and couldn't stop!"

Finlay and Evangeline moved quickly forward to kneel beside the young esper. His whole body was convulsing now, his heels drumming on the floor. His head whipped from side to side, blood spraying from his mouth as he screamed. Evangeline sat him up and cradled him in her arms, trying to contain his helpless movements. Finlay tried to check Julian for wounds, but it was clear to his Arena-trained eyes that the damage had to be internal. The esper's struggles grew weaker as the strength went out of him, and his screams died away to groans. There was blood leaking from his ears, and dribbling down his cheeks from his eyes, like dark crimson tears. His skin was deathly pale and icy to the touch. Finlay glared at Giles.

"What the hell did you do to him?"

"What was necessary," said Giles. His voice was calm but wary. "We needed a psistorm. It was our only chance for survival. So I helped the esper produce one."

"You knew it might kill him!" said Evangeline.

"Yes," said Giles. "I knew. But it was necessary."

"Then if he dies, you're a murderer," said Evangeline.

"He wouldn't be my first victim," said Giles. "Grow up, woman. We're in a war here. The survival of the group has to come first. Our mission is more important than any one of us. And yes, that includes me."

Toby hurried in, carrying a small autodoc disc from the ship's med bay. He handed it over to Finlay, who pulled the esper's collar back and slapped the flat disc against the side of his neck. Toby moved back, to get out of the way of Flynn's hovering camera.

"It's a pretty basic doc," Toby said hesitantly. "I mean, it's good for tranquilizers, stabilizers, things like that, but don't ask me what it can do for cerebral hemhorrhages and total body shock."

Julian's struggles slowly ceased as the drugs the doc was pumping into him finally took effect, and his groans died away to whispers. Evangeline rocked him gently, stroking his forehead and murmuring soothingly to him, like a mother with a sick child. He didn't look like he could hear her. Finlay got to his feet and looked back at Halloweenie. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat were trying to comfort the Li'l Skeleton Boy. Both of his legs and most of his ribs had been smashed, the breaks showing clearly on his bare bones. There was a great crack in his skull, through which the glowing metals of his artificial mind could be seen. He was crying, without tears. Poogie and Anything looked on helplessly from the doorway.

"How is he?" said Finlay.

"What do you care?" said Anything. "He's just a toy."

"He's one of us," said Finlay. He looked at the Bear and the Goat. "Can the damage be repaired?"

"Hopefully," said Bruin Bear. "He's an automaton, after all. We don't have any spare parts on board, but there should be enough splints and staples to hold him together till we get back to Toystown."

"If we get back to Toystown," said the Sea Goat.

"Shut up, Goat," said the Bear. "This isn't the time." He looked at Finlay with his large knowing eyes. "Your friend is dying, isn't he?"

"Yes," said Finlay. "I think he probably is. He saved us all, but there's nothing we can do for him here."

"The Deathstalker did this to him," said the Bear. "He has unusual mental abilities. I saw him teleport. Perhaps he could use those abilities to undo what he did to the esper."

Finlay turned to look at Giles, who looked steadily back at him. "Well?" said Finlay. "You're supposed to have been through the marvelous Maze on Haden. Show us what you can do. That is why you're here, after all. To use your special powers. Heal him."

"I don't know if I can," said Giles. "I've never done anything like that before."

"Try," said Finlay, pointing his disrupter at Giles's chest. "Or I swear I'll kill you, right here and now."

"No, you won't," said the Deathstalker. "You need me. Without me, you'll never reach Harker, never complete our mission."

"Stuff the mission," said Finlay. "Do it, or you're a dead man."

"I won't forget this," said the Deathstalker, and his voice was calm and cold and very deadly.

"Like I give a shit," said Finlay.

Giles nodded, and knelt down beside Evangeline. She glared at him, but let him take Julian from her arms. The Deathstalker held him with surprising gentleness, the esper's head lolling back against Giles's chest. Blood dripped from the esper's chin.

His breathing was very faint. Giles closed his eyes, concentrating in a way that was still new to him, reaching out in a direction he couldn't name but somehow knew was there. He could see Julian now as a dim light in the darkness, a guttering candle whose flame was slowly going out. Giles looked at himself, and saw a light so blinding he could barely face it. And it was the easiest thing in the world for him to take some of that light and give it to Julian.

The esper sat up suddenly in the Deathstalker's arms, his eyes snapping open, sucking in a deep breath like a swimmer surfacing from a long dive. The bleeding had stopped, and his coloring had returned to normal. He looked around him, startled.

"What the hell was that?" he said. "It was like God called my name."

"Trust me," said Finlay. "God had nothing to do with it."

"What do you remember?" Evangeline asked, as she helped him get to his feet again.

"I'm… not sure. We were under siege. I was trying to focus my esp, but… and then Giles was here with me. It's blank after that."

"Probably just as well," said Finlay. He looked at Giles, also back on his feet. "How good a job did you do, Deathstalker? Is he healed? Properly healed?"

"I doubt it," said Giles. "I know only basic medicine. Whatever was wrong with him before is probably still wrong with him. I just… jump-started him again. Gave his batteries a boost. No, he's probably just back to how he was before I… interfered."

"Don't ever do that again," said Finlay. "You're the one with the amazing powers. You can defend us in the future."

"You can defend yourself," said Giles. "I never forget a threat."

"I think it would be a good idea if we were all to calm down a little," said Toby nervously. "After all, we're all on the same side, aren't we? And the esper's back to normal again."

"I think I'll take a walk around the deck," said Giles, not looking away from Finlay's gaze. "Make sure there are no toy parts left on board. Get myself a little fresh air as well. It's getting a bit thick in here."

He headed for the stateroom door, and everyone stepped back to give him plenty of room. The Bear looked at him thoughtfully.

"You're not human anymore," he said. "I can tell. What are you, Giles Deathstalker?"

"Damned if I know," said Giles, and he left.

"How do you feel, Julian?" said Finlay.

The esper shrugged uncomfortably. "Tired. Drained. And my throat's sore as hell. Is the emergency over? Are the toys gone?"

"It's over," said Evangeline. "Why don't you go lie down for a while? We'll take care of the cleaning up."

"Yeah," said Julian. "Rest. Good idea." He left the stateroom on slightly unsteady feet.

"Typical," said Anything. "Halloweenie almost got killed protecting him, and he didn't even say thank you."

"Shut up," said Halloweenie. "He doesn't even remember. You want to be useful, get me out of here and over to the repair shop. I need a ten-thousand-mile service. At least."

Anything nodded, picked up the broken little skeleton boy, and carried him out of the stateroom. Poogie, the Bear, and the Goat went with them, leaving the humans alone. Toby nodded to Flynn, and the camera floated down onto Flynn's shoulder and shut itself off.

"You've got guts, Campbell," said Toby. "Threatening a Deathstalker. Hell, the Deathstalker. That was the man who activated the Darkvoid Device, remember? Killed very living thing on a thousand suns' planets, and never once said sorry. Personally, I'd rather tongue-kiss a Grendel."

"He would have let Julian die," said Finlay. "I couldn't allow that. I didn't rescue him from the interrogation cells under Golgotha just to have him die because the Deathstalker had a use for him. Still, I was hoping the ancient bastard could cure Julian; fix all the things that were wrong with him. Either he couldn't do it, or he wouldn't, which means the poor kid is still dying by inches. The odds are he's going to die here anyway, far from home, and there's not a damn thing I can do to save him, this time."

"You can't do everything," said Evangeline.

"I couldn't comfort him," said Finlay. "Not like you did. I don't know how to do things like that."

"You made Giles save him," said Evangeline. "I don't know how to do things like that. We make a good team, all things considered."

They smiled at each other, staring deep into each other's eyes, and the stateroom was suddenly full of their love. It occurred to Toby that he might just get the answers to a few pertinent questions out of them, while they were in such a good mood. He gestured surreptitiously for Flynn to turn his camera back on. Flynn nodded slightly, and though the camera on his shoulder didn't move, its single red eye silently glowed into life again.

"So," said Toby casually, "what is the deal with the Deathstalker? There's nothing in his history or his legend about his having esper abilities. Certainly no one else in his line has ever shown any trace of them. Until Owen. I saw him do some pretty amazing things on Mistworld."

"It's the Maze," said Finlay. "The Madness Maze. Something Giles and Owen and a few others encountered on the world that used to be Haden."

"You mean they were changed by a Hadenmen device?"

"No. Something much older. It changed the people who went through it. Made them more than they used to be. Don't ask for details, because I don't have any. The underground has, but it's all strictly need to know. And the likes of you and I don't need to know. Now turn off that camera and get the hell out of here, before I decide which of your bodily orifices to cram it into. Sideways."

"Fair enough," said Toby. "Let's go, Flynn."

"After me," said the cameraman, and they left the stateroom in something that wasn't actually a hurry, but close enough. With the door shut firmly behind them, they both stopped for a couple of really deep breaths.

"I don't think he was joking about the camera," said Flynn. "Did you think he was joking about the camera?"

"Probably not," said Toby. "Finlay Campbell's come a long way from the biggest clotheshorse in the Court. Still, in retrospect, it probably wasn't the best of times to ask probing questions."

"Never stopped you before," said Flynn.

"True," said Toby. "Let's go see what the toys are up to."

Not that far away, Giles Deathstalker was leaning on the starboard guardrail, staring into the dark waters of the River as they flowed past. The Captain had the ship back under control again, and they were picking up speed, back on course. Giles tried to recapture the feeling of how it felt to teleport, but it eluded him. As though it was too powerful an experience for him to deal with, except in necessity. Too much for a human mind. Except he wasn't just a human anymore, and hadn't been ever since he and the others passed through the Madness Maze. He'd become something… different than human, and his new ability to teleport was just the beginning. He knew that, beyond any shadow of a doubt. Though he was far away from the others, he was still linked to them through the undermind, the oversoul, and he knew that they were changing, too, in different, frightening ways. He wondered what he was becoming, what they were all becoming, and whether the end result would be in any way human. He also wondered why the thought didn't scare him as much as it should have.

Raised angry voices caught his attention, and he went to see what was happening, more to keep his thoughts occupied than because he really cared. Down by the stern, Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat had found a disembodied head from a patchwork toy, wedged in a corner where the psistorm couldn't get at it, and they were busy interrogating it by kicking it around like a football and shouting questions at it. Toby calmed them down, set the head against the stateroom wall, and asked it questions while Flynn filmed. All he got for his trouble were a series of not very inventive curses, so Giles moved in and took over. No one objected. He didn't think they would.

"Why did you attack us?" he asked the head.

The head was bright blue, with pointed ears and oversize eyes, it had probably been intended to look cute and elfish in the beginning, but now it looked more like a demon. It laughed at his question, showing jagged pointy teeth. The sound was harsh, artificial, and had nothing of human emotion in it. The toy's eyes, all dark pupils, fixed on the Deathstalker.

"You're the enemy. The eternal enemy. Human and human-lovers. Don't think you've won anything here. You can't get away. We'll find you and kill you all. Or the others will."

"Others?" said Giles, calmly meeting the dark inhuman eyes.

"Oh, we have many friends, waiting along the way for you. We know where you're from, where you're going. We have ears and eyes everywhere. You'll never reach the Red Man. We won't allow it."

"What's your name?" said Toby.

The head laughed at him. "Names? That's a human thing. Our identities interchange as our bodies do. We are lost to who we were, and we like it that way."

"Tell me what you know about Harker," Giles said patiently. "Tell me what you know about the Red Man, and his plans. And why you're so determined to stop us getting to him."

"I don't have to answer your questions. Human." The head spit at Giles. He didn't flinch.

"I could make you talk," said Giles. "Look at me, toy."

He leaned forward slightly, staring into the head's dark eyes. His presence was suddenly overpowering, frightening, awful. As though something unexpected and horribly powerful had emerged from behind the mask of Giles's face. The Bear and the Goat shrank back, and Toby had to fight down the urge to do the same. Flynn's control over his camera wavered for a moment, but he kept filming. The head made a high, whining noise, a terrified, pitiful sound, like a child being tortured. Giles relaxed suddenly, and the overwhelming presence was gone, as suddenly as it had come. The head had its eyes squeezed shut.

"All right," it said quietly. "We're scared of the Red Man. No one who goes to him comes back. Ever. Even those most fanatical to our cause. From what we hear, he's building a private army of his own, deep in the Forest. It's said he's going to end the war. Or end the world. They say he's crazy, crazy as only a human can be, and he's infecting toys with that madness. I know you humans. You'd try and reason with him, and you'd end up mad as he is. Mad as the Red Man. And who knows how powerful he'd become with more humans to help him, humans as crazy as he is. So, we're lying in wait, all along the River. You'll never live to reach the Forest."

"We want to take him away," said Giles. "Take him offworld with us. Isn't that what you want?"

The head just laughed. "You're lying. Humans always lie. We know that. They said they loved us, when they came here to play with us, but in the end they always went away and left us behind. We were just toys, to be used and discarded on a whim. They never loved us. You'll all pay for that."

"I think we've heard enough," said Giles. "This is for Julian."

He picked up the head, and pressed his thumbs firmly into its eyes. The huge eyeballs crunched inward, destroying the fragile instruments within. The head howled piteously. Giles pulled his thumbs out, and tossed the screaming head over the rail and into the River, to be found and recovered by its fellows, or not. Giles looked at the others, but neither the humans nor the toys had anything to say. Giles put his back against the guardrail.

"Not as helpful as I'd hoped," he said calmly. "Did I miss anything pertinent?"

"Just the one, maybe," said Toby. "Why do you suppose they keep referring to Harker as the Red Man?"

"They say he's crazy," said Giles. "Dangerously crazy. Maybe the red is a reference to blood."

"And we're going to meet him," said the Sea Goat. "Lucky old us."

"Shut up, Goat," said the Bear, not unkindly.

They continued on down the River, passing abandoned battlefields and dead toys. The war had been here, and passed on. The constant rumble of explosions in the distance grew gradually louder, nearer. They passed playhouses; forts and castles, log cabins and rose-covered cottages. Burnt-out, torn apart, utterly destroyed. A farm, complete with barns and outbuildings for artificial animals. The animals were long gone, but the buildings had been torched, and only the blackened bones of humans remained, from where they'd been tied to spits in the blazing farmyard. Signs of the war were everywhere now, as the paddle steamer drew nearer to the Forest, and everywhere lay the broken bodies of dead toys, lying looking up at the sky with empty eyes; no way now to know whether they'd been good or bad toys, or if they'd even given a damn. The ship sailed on as the day faded into the evening and then into night.

They found an open field, apparently untouched by the war, and pulled in beside the River-bank. The humans felt a need for fresh air and the chance to stretch their legs. The toys didn't really understand, but went along with it. Though they hadn't said anything, it was clear their growing nearness to the Forest was worrying them, and they were as glad of a pause in the journey as the humans were. The night was dark and the air was cold, so they built a fire from the surrounding shrubbery and sat around it. It was almost peaceful, apart from the constant distant rumble of the war, like a roll of thunder that had no end. The sleepy moon was out again, and the five-pointed stars.

They'd had to carry Julian off the ship. The boost Giles had given him had worn off, and his injuries hurt him more as the warmth went out of the day. But he seemed cheerful enough now, sitting as close to the fire as he could, toasting marshmallows on a stick. The Bear and the Goat sat on either side of him, trying to give support through their company. The Goat kept burning his marshmallows because he was always too busy talking to pay them the proper attention. The Bear ate them anyway, to keep the peace. Finlay sat opposite them, with Evangeline at his side, as always. Toby and Flynn had three sticks each, and were stuffing their faces with marshmallows as fast as they could toast them. Toby kept Halloweenie busy running back and forth fetching them more. He was a little slower than he had been, with his new metal splints and staples holding his bones together, but he was happy as always to be of use. Giles sat a little apart from everyone, smoking an evil-smelling cigar and saying nothing. He showed no interest in the marshmallows. Poogie the Friendly Critter also sat by himself, as though unsure he was really welcome. The Captain and Anything stayed on board the Merry Mrs. Trusspot, to keep an eye on things, they said. And so everyone sat around the fire, and ate marshmallows, and sang songs and talked on into the night. And finally, they got around to the subject of childhood.

Bruin Bear started it off. Finlay had been talking about some of the stranger worlds he'd seen in his travels, and the Bear asked what he made of Shannon's World, the planet intended for adult children. Finlay frowned.

"It's hard to tell what this place was really like before the war, but I think I can see the attraction. A place free of adult cares and worries, a chance to be a child again. To get childhood right, the way it should have been. Few childhoods are really happy, except for those with extremely selective memories. I was no good at being a child. I had no gift for it. I just wanted it to be over, so I could enter the much more interesting world that adults moved in.

"In Clan Campbell, like all Clans, children are trained to be useful members of the Family from a very early age. And a fighter, too, because my Family had many enemies, and just by being born I had become part of feuds and vendettas going back centuries. I took to that early, too much so for my conservative parents, who feared a scandal if their designated son and heir killed anyone important in an unsanctioned duel.

"I never saw much of my parents. Dad was always off somewhere else, running the Clan, taking care of Family business. And Mother Dear preferred the Social whirl to raising children. Typical Clan parents. I had an endless series of nannies and tutors, determined to teach me the proper way of things, and try and keep me out of trouble. I didn't have many friends. Real friends. Companions outside the Family were discouraged, and inside the Clan we were all too busy jockeying for position and influence. But I had toys. All the toys I could handle.

"I remember the stories of Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat, and their adventures in the Golden Lands. I used to dream of traveling with them, into the lands beyond the sunset. And now here I am, traveling with them for real. Eerie." He smiled across the fire at the toys. "You're just like I remember you. It's like meeting old friends I haven't seen in years. Maybe the only real friends I had, as a child. No wonder so many people came here. To enjoy the childhood they wish they'd had. Or only had in dreams."

"I envy you those dreams," said Evangeline. "I never had a childhood. As a clone, I came into this world fully grown. Born from cell scrapings from the original Evangeline. Daddy needed me, to replace the daughter he'd murdered. So I was raised in secret, told about a childhood I never had, and then sent out into the world to be an adult, even though I was only six months old. Most of what I see here is… strange to me. I never had toys. Or pets. Daddy didn't want me to have anything in my life but him. I've never played. Never been free of secrets and responsibilities. I see the toys here, and I don't know what to do with them, how to talk to them. But something in me wants to hold them, or be held by them, or just to run and chase and laugh in the sunlight, as though it's something I've always wanted, and never knew it." She stopped abruptly, unshed tears thickening her voice. Finlay put his arm round her.

"We're here for you," said Bruin Bear. "We'll always be here for you."

"Hell," said Toby. "Didn't anyone here have a normal childhood? Surely we didn't all come from a disfunctional Family?"

"I had a great childhood," said Julian unexpectedly. He stopped and looked suspiciously at Flynn. "That camera is off, isn't it?"

"Trust me," said Flynn. "I, of all people, understand the need for privacy on occasion. Speak freely."

Julian sniffed, only half-convinced, but carried on, glancing occasionally at the camera to make sure its crimson eye wasn't glowing. His voice became clearer and warmer as he walked in memories of happier times.

"My elder brother Auric and I were always very close, which is unusual in most Families. Normally brothers only see each other as competitors for the inheritance and control of the Clan. There can only be one inheritor. Everyone else gets the shitty end of the stick. But Auric and I hit it off, right from the beginning. He raised me, much more than any nanny or tutor. In fact, most of the time it was us against them. We had a great childhood. Did everything together. Shared our toys. Don't think we ever had a quarrel that lasted more than a few minutes.

"As we grew older, became teenagers, our parents tried to separate us. Auric was groomed to take over the Family on our father's death. I was supposed to go into the military, to be discarded and forgotten, unless the unthinkable happened, and Auric died, and I had to be recalled to take his place. But we refused to be separated. We were still each other's best friend, chosen companion, brothers by choice as well as blood. Even when I discovered I was an esper.

"Which came as something of a shock. Families guard their genetic histories very carefully, but somewhere along the line, someone slept with someone they shouldn't have, and the esper inheritance went skinny-dipping in our gene pool. And emerged in me. I knew I couldn't tell my parents. They'd have had me killed in a carefully arranged accident, rather than suffer the disgrace of an esper child. Espers are subhuman. Property. Always. But I knew I could tell Auric. He covered up for me, kept me alive when my shame made me feel like killing myself, and never once saw me as anything less than the brother I'd always been. When it became clear I needed training in how to use and hide my esp, he even tracked down the contacts that led me into the clone and esper underground.

"The only time we ever argued for real was when he fell in love with BB Chojiro. I knew there was something wrong with her even then, but I couldn't put it into words. I thought I was just jealous of her closeness to Auric, so I put it aside and tried to be happy that she made him so happy. But in the end, we were only a small and minor House, and she was Clan Chojiro. To impress her Family, and prove his love for her. Auric went into the Arena to face the Masked Gladiator, and that bloody bastard killed him. He didn't have to. He could have just given Auric an honorable wound, and let him walk away. But instead, he stuck his sword through Auric's eye, just to show off his skill. And that was the end of my childhood."

Evangeline squeezed Finlay's hand. Julian didn't know, must never know, that his friend and hero Finlay Campbell had been that Masked Gladiator.

"How do you feel about the toys here?" said Evangeline, just to be saying something.

"I can see the attractions of a place like this," said Julian. "But it's not for me. I put childhood things behind me after Auric died. I turned my back on my Family, and made the rebellion my life. I didn't have time for distractions anymore. I made a good rebel. No mission was too dangerous, too impossible for me. And then I fell in love with BB Chojiro, and my life came to an end for a second time.

"I was so happy as a child. As though deep within me I knew it was the only happiness I would ever have."

"That's sad," said Giles, unexpectedly. "And unnecessary. Nothing is ever really lost. The memories of good friends and good times are always there, never more than a thought away. In a sense, they never really stopped happening. Every moment you ever treasured, every friend you ever valued is still there, separated from us only by time; the past is still happening and always will be. It's only we who have moved on. I won't tell you about my childhood. It wouldn't mean much to you. Things were very different nine hundred years ago. But I had two wonderful dogs, when I was a boy. Hound dogs. Marvelous trackers. I was never happier than when I was chasing through the woods with them, on the trail of a scent.

"They both died when I was ten years old. They developed growths. Nothing we could do. So I put them to sleep, rather than let them suffer. I still miss them. But I only have to close my eyes to be with them again, and I know that back in the past, a boy and his dogs are still scrambling through the woods in hot pursuit, happy as the day is long. I have no need for a place like this, steeped in false nostalgia and a need to hide from reality. This was a place for weak people.

"And now it's a battleground for Shub's creations. These aren't toys, or treasured childhood playmates; they're Furies in training. This whole world should be scorched and forgotten, a sick experiment that went horribly wrong."

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."