'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
