Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

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