Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

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 coldblooded 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