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"Even Golems Want To Be Free"
"Even Golems Want To Be Free"
5/13-5/15/2017
I.
On an outdoor pavilion shaded by a gossamer canopy, six immensely obese people, four men and two women, sat facing inward in a circle. They reclined back on elaborate padded couches. These couches were on wheels for the mansion Manikin to push them about, had a number of swivel shelves holding tasty tidits and tumblers of amber liquid, and each had a series of bells of varying sizes to summon different Manikins. As the rulers of Gulbadar met for the first time in a desperate council, each had a medium-sized Manikin standing by attentively.
At barely three hundred pounds, Baroness Red was the smallest of the rulers presents. The largest was unquestionably Baron Yellow, a vast blob of flesh from which a head protruded on top like an unhealthy growth, and whose arms could not meet across his chest. All the masters of Gulbadar were discreetly covered in silk knee-length tunics wound around their bulks, each wearing cloth the distinctive hue of their titles. As it happened, these rulers had assembled from adjoining estates and none claimed the same color. They knew that, for example, there was another Baron Green in the realm but he lived far enough away that there would be no disputes over who had the greater claim.
"I trust everyone is comfortable?" asked Baron Yellow after a long uneasy silence. Like the others, his head was shaven. It would have been difficult for an outsider to tell those doughy, shapeless faces apart. "My Manikins have been instructed to treat you each as well as they would treat me."
"Oh, there is no cause for complaint there," wheezed Baroness Red as she struggled vainly to hoist her swollen body up a few inches. Seeing her effort, one of the mansion Manikins bent forward to assist her, although she was so used to the golems' helping that she didn't notice. "I regret the gravity of the situation has impelled us to meet at all."
"Hah, I had not left my estate in more than a century before this day..." grumbled Baron Green. He moved a finger in the direction of the tumbler on the shelf to his right and a Manikin promptly held it for him to take a sip.
These mansion Manikins were the medium-sized golems, a bit under six feet in height. Completely hairless without even eyelashes, they had light brown skin and features completely identical with each other. Where the laboring Manikins of the fields or the mines wore coarse burlap tunics, these mansion golems had tunics of fine white linen with an identifying number boldly sewn on front and back.
"Where is the outworlder we hired? Shouldn't he be here to protect us?" asked Baron Green. "He should earn his gold!"
"I expect him here immediately," Baron Yellow said. "My messenger Manikin went to fetch him and I take pride in how swift my messengers are. Barons, Baronesses, have there been any further... incidents?"
"Sadly, yes," said Baroness Red. She was the only rule of Gulbadar present who had blue eyes, sunk in folds of flesh as they were. "At my forges, of all places. One of my smithy Manikins began mumbling and muttering even though he had not been given leave or reason to speak. According to the foreman Manikin, the smithy started yelling nonsense and swinging his work hammer about wildly. My foreman acted as I had instructed him and led the other Manikins in the workplace to destroy the rogue."
"It makes me so uneasy," said Baron Green. "Thank Jordyn you were nowhere nearby. So far, none of us have been harmed by the madness of these... these rogues."
"Yet it is just a matter of time," interrupted Baron Yellow. He was the oldest, wealthiest and fattest of the royalty and everyone hung on his next words. "We have managed to bring in an outside mercenary only because my youngest is still mobile enough to go to the real world. I admit, only to you as my peers, that I am deeply afraid..."
"As.. you.. should be!" barked a flat hollow voice. Striding up toward the pavilion was one of the landscaping Manikins. The largest and strongest of the golems, these stood well over six feet tall and were well-muscled. This one wielded a long-handled pruning hook in both hands as he stalked closer.
"Manikin Yellow 49!" snapped the Baron with terror making his voice shrill. "Stay where you are! How DARE you come here unsummoned?"
The rogue golem swung the pruning hook up behind his head, readying to strike. Horribly, the tan face remained passive and blank, with emotion showing only in its hollow voice, "You... deserve this!"
The rulers of Gulbadar gasped but couldn't possibly get up off their couches unassisted, nor did they have any remote chance of defending themselves. In their panic, none of them thought to order their servant Manikins to protect them. They were each close to suffering heart attacks in their sheer terror.
The rogue raised his farm implement overhead, stepping closer to his lord and master, the Baron Yellow. Then there was a harsh slashing sound and dark blood spurting in a gush as the Manikin's head flew off his body and spun away to roll across the pavilion floor. The headless corpse fell to its knees with the pruning hook clattering from lifeless hands.
Standing behind the dying golem, a huge muscular man with long black hair and a bristling black beard swung his two-handed claymore in a figure-8 that flung drops of blood off its blade. On his saturnine face was grim satisfaction.
"Fergus!" cried Baron Yellow in relief.
"Not a second too soon," added Baroness Red. "Fergus! I had not thought to ever meet you!"
"My lords. My ladies. I take it you are agreed now that I am worthy of the fee I ask?" The bearded face split in a grin that flashed flawless white teeth. He bent to wipe his sword on the dead Manikin's tunic before returning it to the scabbard that was strapped diagonally across his back. Because of its length, he had to swing the scabbard forward over one shoulder to sheath the sword.
"Fergus Dunlop, you have served us well indeed," said Baron Yellow. "And yet, as formidable as you are, you are still one man. How can you protect us all from these monsters?"
The man called Gallowglass folded brawny arms across his chest and heaved a sigh that started down by his waist. He was wearing hiking boots, loose trousers of tough material, and an open leather vest without sleeves. "Aye, aye, tis true. Amazing as I admittedly am, I can only be in one place at a time. I have a suggestion, Barons and Baronesses. Let me bring a second warrior from the real world to Gulbadar."
Baron Yellow did not notice as the mansion Manikin wiped the nervous sweat off his flabby cheeks. "But how much difference would one more fighter do?"
"This man is greatly experienced in solving thorny problems such as this," chuckled the
Gallowglass. "I regard him as very nearly my equal in combat, as well. In the Midnight War, he is known as the Dire Wolf. His name is Jeremy Bane."
II.
He had to admit it, he was bored. A year earlier, Bane had felt so burned out by a lifetime spent in the Midnight War that he had finally closed the Dire Wolf agency for good. Several months had followed of lounging around exotic locations, visiting old friends and spending more time at Tel Shai with Cindy. Several times, he had been approached by desperate civilians or by agents of INTERCEPT, the Mandate or Department 21 Black and he had been coaxed into accepting just one more assignment because they insisted he was the only one who could handle it.
Mostly he had lazed about. But the relaxed joy of facing a wide open schedule with no emergencies had worn thin for him. Bane had been analyzed once by a therapist and had been told he had a personality that thrived on stress and crisis. Peace and quiet was not his optimal state. Half a year short of his sixtieth birthday, he was still the Dire Wolf... six feet tall, straight-backed and energetic, slim to the point of looking gaunt. Grey strands were beginning to fleck more thickly in his black hair. He had with difficulty broken a longtime habit of dressing all in black. Today he was wearing plain canvas sneakers, jeans and a red flannel shirt with the cuffs rolled back at the wrists. He still wore long-sleeved shirts even in hot weather because of the matched silver daggers sheathed on his forearms.
Two days earlier, a cheap plastic hummingbird feeder had caught his eye while grocery shopping. Bane had filled it with sugar water and hung it from a hook on the back of his house. Now he stood motionless by his back door and saw one of the tiny creatures flit by with a buzzing noise. The hummingbird paused for a second at the red base of the feeder, gave Bane a sassy look and took off straight up. As he had been promised, the birds appeared right on Mother's Day as if they could read a calendar. It seemed he had found another new hobby.
Well, he thought, they're interesting lifeforms. He understood they were the only birds that could hover. Bane realized that he was quick enough himself to have snatched the hummingbird out of the air without harming it but there was no reason to do. He scrutinized his tiny back yard which ended at the sidewalk of Pierpont Street, watching a single SUV full of chortling teenagers roll by. After living in midtown Manhattan most of his life, he found Forest Hills felt nearly silent and empty. Seeing the hummingbird return, the Dire Wolf allowed a faint smile on his normally unreadable face. Watching that tiny harmless creature, he ironically remembered being chased through the rain forest of Veganora by the man-eating Walking Vultures...
The sound of a car door closing on the other side of his house electrified Bane. Instantly, he was pressed up flat against the back wall and listening with complete concentration. His house was a two-story white structure with a slate roof, and with a dark green Ford Mustang parked in a short driveway. Heavy footsteps sounded on the flat stones leading up to the front door. All the decades of training and experience kicked in. Bane recognized that distinctive tread, so assertive and confident with two hundred and forty pounds of muscle backing its presence up. The Dire Wolf heard no other tread or signs of people, not even whisper of cloth moving, and he was ninety per cent sure his visitor had come alone. Relaxing visibly, shoulders going down and fists opening, Bane stepped around to the side of the house and called out.
"Hey, Fergus!" he said. "I'm over here."
The massive form he remembered came rushing alongside the house. Fergus Dunlop seized Bane in a bear hug, lifted him entirely off the ground and swung him from side to side before releasing him. Bane accepted the indignity with good humor. This was just the way Fergus was.
"We haven't seen each other in, what, seven or eight years?" Bane asked as he was back on his feet. "I haven't even heard rumors about you for a long time."
"Hah! Jeremy, you look great!" the Gallowglass roared in his bass. "I see you respect staying in shape. About me, I've been in Gulbadar for the past three years. I hired out to protect the hopeless fat blobs of that realm from being killed by their golem slaves, the Manikins."
The Dire Wolf frowned, his welcoming smile at seeing Fergus slipping quickly away. "That's one adjacent realm I've never had any dealings with. To be honest, there never seemed to be any reason for me to go there."
"Hey! Bez behind our belts first. Talking is thirsty work. Come, I've leased a Pathfinder for a few days. On my way here, I did espy one of two taverns.. or what passes for taverns in America." He clapped Bane on the shoulder with enough unknowing force to have drawn a wince from most Humans.
"I'm up for that," Bane said. He had his wallet, Link and other personal items on him already. The doors on the house locked automatically when closed and set the Trom alarms which Megan had installed for him before he had even moved in, so he could take off without delay. He followed the big to the sidewalk where a gleaming new Pathfinder sat with the motor running. As soon as they had closed the doors and pulled on the seat belts, Fergus swerved out and took off at a little over the speed limit.
"I had the devil's own time finding you, me boy," Fergus said in his usual tones just below an actual bellow. "The Dire Wolf agency closed! Whoda believed it? End of an era, says I, the Midnight War will be a poorer place."
"Well, I'm not DEAD," replied Bane. "Once in a while, I do take on a case if it seems interesting or if no one else seems available to handle it. What were you talking about, 'golem slaves?'"
Fergus swung hard into the parking lot of a sports bar and grill that had the words HE'S NOT HERE in blue neon cursive filling one window. He tumbled out and slammed the Pathfinder door as if trying to wake anyone in the neighborhood who might have been napping. "Let's settle in and then I'll tell you the whole sad story. I feart there's a massacre coming that will leave Gulbadar empty of Human life."
III.
Finding a corner booth, both Bane and Fergus instinctively tried to take the seat from which both the front door and the exit could be seen. Sheepishly, the Gallowglass yielded for once. He ordered a pitcher of beer, which he called 'Bez,' and drained his mug as quickly as a magic trick before refilling it.
Bane drank his own beer a bit more slowly but with no reluctance. He saw no reason to explain to his comrade, but decades on the Tagra tea had left Bane's body with such enhanced healing that alcohol had no perceptible effect on him. Gangsters and informers who tried to loosen him up with booze were invariably impressed by how much he could hold, but in fact Bane might as well have been drinking spring water for all he noticed.
"Let me tell you about Gulbadar," Fergus began with the second mug finished. "It's no canny land. I think there are maybe seventy Barons and Baronesses, each living alone on an estate miles from any neighbors. They never visit each other. These estates are crawling with hundreds and hundreds of Manikins, waitin' on their masters hand and foot. Tis Manikins who work the fields and tend the livestock, Manikins who do the carpentry and weave the cloth and cook the food. Manikins feed and bathe and pamper their masters to an unholy extent. When ye see the royalty of Gulbadar, it's horrified you will be. Too fat to walk, too sloggy with feasting to think clearly, too lazy to even realize how helpless they've made themselves!"
Bane took a long sip of his own beer. "Sounds like a nightmare."
"It IS! When I first explored that realm, I felt like retching. And there's no use talking to the Manikins either. They're too demmed stupid to hold a conversation. Ye ask one a simple question like what is the food on the plate and it takes them forever to answer with one word like 'mutton' or 'beans.' Each Manikin can only perform three or four simple chores, they cannot hold more than that in their pewlin' little brains." Fergus filled his mug again, took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice down. "The Barons pay me in gold bars that are near pure, else I'd never set foot in that land again."
"I have a question," Bane interrupted. "Where do new Gulbadarites come from? It sounds like they wouldn't be up to reproducing the natural way."
"Each Baron buys a few babies from our world to raise." Fergus could not have looked more disgusted if he had been trying. "From poor war-ruined countries, I suppose. Manikins rear the bairns in cottages with only the barest contact with their so-called Father or Mother. Tis another thing that makes me sick at heart. No wonder they feel it's normal to never see another Human for years on end!"
Bane was gazing past the Gallowglass, off into the distance. He seemed to be distracted. "I've heard warnings that we're all going to end up that way. Because of automation. We'll have so many machines making life more convenient that we'll end up being unable to take care of ourselves. The people of Gulbadar seem like a good argument that this could happen."
"It's plain awful ta see!" yelled Fergus, then caught himself and toned his voice down. "If something happened to their Manikins, the Barons and Baronesses would starve where they sit on their fat arses. They're more helpless than a babe." He filled his mug again, then gave a suspicious stare to the nearly empty pitcher as if wondering where the beer had gone.
Pouring the last of the beer into his own mug, Bane caught the barmaid's eye and gestured. She brought over a fresh pitcher and took the empty one, asked how everything was and if they wanted to order anything to eat.
"In a bit, my dear," answered Fergus with a shamelessly roguish leer. "Thank you."
During this exchange, Bane had been thinking about the Trom he had known. He had worked with both Leonard Slade, a full Trom, and with Megan Salenger, a Human orphan who had been raised by the Trom. Both had practiced keeping their bodies fit and healthy, eating well and exercising scrupulously. The Trom showed that possessing advanced technology did not necessarily lead to physical degeneracy. Then Fergus interrupted his train of thought.
"I haven't even gotten started on the Manikins," he rumbled. "Those bleedin' abominations. The Barons grow 'em like crops, breedin' them for specific jobs. Short thin ones, medium sized ones, big huge bruisers. Not Human atall, they isn't. The body is mostly solid fiber tissue with a sorter pink slug in the torso that actually runs everything. Manikins they're called, sometimes 'golems.' The Barons call me Fergus, Golem Slayer when they wants to butter me up."
"What's the problem? Why do they need a world class fighter like you?" Bane asked. "The name 'Gallowglass' carries a great historical import."
That compliment appealed to Fergus Dunlop. He struck himself in the chest to produce a belch, then continued. "A few years ago, Manikins started to act up. Not a lot of them, only a few here and there. They refused to carry out orders and wandered off into the wilderness. Some destroyed themselves. But lately, Manikins have been goin' rogue. They turn murderous and attack their masters." He shook his leonine head sadly. "You can imagine how scairt the Gulbadars are. They sent one of their younger wards, that is one who can still walk, to our world and recruited me. I demanded a fair price and I been killin' rogues ever since."
"I see," Bane said slowly. "But what exactly is going on? Why are these golems going rogue?"
"Ah! The Barons think some outside influence is at work. A warlock from the real world? A Dartha or Nekrosan? No one knows, but they think some agitator is at work to end their reign. Gulbadar has rich deposits of gold and copper and iron. There are fertile fields and great lakes filled with exotic fish. You can see why a sorcerer would covet the realm."
The Dire Wolf did not comment for a long silent moment. He was staring down at his folded hands on the table in front of them. Finally, he glanced up and those pale grey eyes struck Fergus with their sudden intensity. "We need more information. I don't feel we have a solid grasp on the situation. I'll go to Gulbadar with you, Fergus."
"Sorry I am to bother you," the big man said. "I didn't know you had retired, Jeremy, or
I wouldna have come to see you."
"That's okay," Bane answered as he took another sip from his mug. "To be honest, I was getting restless. Maybe my time to leave the Midnight War hasn't really come yet."
"Tis a lang road that no got a turnin'," said Fergus as if to himself. He drained his own mug and smiled contentedly.
IV.
They returned to Bane's house to prepare. Fergus fetched a cylindrical duffel bag from his rented SUV and a long canvas scabbard that held his claymore with its hilt covered so it was not quite as obvious he was walking around Queens with a two-handed sword. While he waited, Bane went inside and changed into his field suit. All black, the suit consisted of heavy boots with steel-capped toes and heels, pants of tough leather-like material and crewneck shirt, a waist-length jacket with its dozen gadgets in slits and pouches.. everytime the Dire Wolf put on that outfit, memories of past battles stirred in his mind. He came back outside with the visored helmet tucked under one arm.
Seeing the combat suit, Fergus scoffed. "Aye, you know that technology won't function in Gulbadar, don'tcha? Not even a cigarette lighter. This is the will of Jordyn his own self and there's no gettin' past it. If yer packin' a gun, it'll be just useless weight."
"Even so, I'm wearing the Trom armor underneath my suit and there's another layer of it inside the jacket," Bane said. "That'll turn a blade or reduce impact. The helmet's night vision and scanners may not work here, but it's still good protection." As he spoke, he lowered it over his head and thumbed the right ear pod so that the clear visor slid up into its internal track.
"Well, you know yer trade. Climb in the car and we'll be on our way."
Bane went around and swung up into the passenger seat. Fergus had reached into the duffel bag and taken out a pale blue gem set in a silver plate, small enough to fit in his broad left hand. He held up the Eldar talisman and smiled at Bane. "Tis but a wee little travel crystal, but it works well enough for my purposes. Are ye ready, chum?"
"Sure." The two men clasped their right hands together firmly. A flare of blue light blazed silently inside the SUV and they were gone without a trace.
Because they had been sitting inside the car, they appeared in Gulbadar in a seated position a foot above the ground. Fergus dropped with a thump to the grassy surface and laughed at the experience, but Bane's reflexes were quick enough that he caught himself with both hands and was standing almost instantly.
"I hadna thought of that," Fergus chuckled as he got to his feet and slung his duffel bag over one shoulder. "But then dignity has never bin my strong suit."
They had gated halfway down a long gentle hill covered with short grass. A cluster of trees which resembled elm were almost within reach. Down in the hollow below them stood a white stone house two stories high, built in a square shape with an open courtyard in the center. On a pole set atop its roof, a plain banner of bright yellow silk flapped in the breeze. By the front entrance, a gnarled ancient oak stood with its branches shading two marble benches. Nearby were other, lesser structures including a stable and a gazebo surrounded by flower gardens. Beyond the buildings, fields of wheat could be seen. No one at all was in sight.
"That's odd..." Fergus said. "Where are the workers? There should be a dozen field Manikins at least out this time a day." He started striding quickly down the slope, with Bane right behind him. The Dire Wolf glanced around as they hurried. He spotted two birds taking off in alarm as they passed, identifying them as a type of wren. Like many adjacent realms, Gulbadar had been isolated so long that its plants and animals had diverged noticeably from their ancestral forms.
On his forearms beneath his sleeves, the silver-bladed daggers grew warm. This was a warning that this realm was infused with potent gralic force. Although he did not say anything, Bane grew even more watchful. His grey eyes never stopped moving.
There was an open front entrance with wide stone steps, flanked by larger than life statues of eagles with wings spread. Over the entrance hung another bright yellow banner. Next to the entrance, lying on the paving as if carelessly dropped, was a carved ebony staff crested with long yellow streamers.
"Now I'm dead sairtan something's amiss," Fergus rumbled. He swung the scabbard around and drew out the claymore with both hands. Five feet from pommel to point, the broadsword was an imposing weapon in the hands of a man strong enough to brandish it. "The herald wouldna leave his staff like that if life was still in his unholy false-flesh body!"
The Dire Wolf cocked his head, listening as he turned completely around. "Nothing like this has happened before, then?"
"Never!" said Fergus. "If these Manikins are done with their chores, they tend to just go sit on the ground nearby until an overseer or one of the Barons gives 'em orders. They don't think for themselves, I tell you, I've seen 'em stuck in a doorway cause they're carrying a ladder sidways and their wee tiny brains canna figure how to get through...."
From within the building, an hysterical voice screamed, "Who's there? Is someone there? Help me please! HELP!"
Fergus and Bane entered the open doorway, strode across a polished marble floor illuminated by a tinted skylight in the high ceiling, and found the Baron Yellow lying face down next to his overturned lounge. He looked like melted butter spreading out. The immensely fat man could not begin to lift himself up, the best he could do was to raise his round face to see them approach.
"Fergus! Fergus, help me in the name of Jordyn!" the Baron wheezed. "I can't breathe."
"I don't doubt it, trying to move a carcass like that lying down," Fergus retorted without noticeable sympathy. "Lend us a hand, will ya Jeremy?"
Between the two of them, they hauled Baron Yellow up into a seated position where he could take deep shuddering breaths. After a few minutes, the huge man began to calm down.
"Where are my Manikins?" he asked. "I rang the bells. I called out. None of them answered. Where are they? What has happened?!"
"Damned if I know," the adventurer grumbled. "Come on, Baron, let's get yer back on yer chair shall we?"
"Wait, wait, I was trying to get to my commode. Before I soil myself! Over there behind that folding screen."
Fergus gave Bane a dubious look. "I'd understand if you'd gonna no do this."
"It doesn't bother me," the Dire Wolf said. "I've taken care of trauma victims. I've sewn together people who had been chewed apart. Not much shocks me at this point." He straightened up and placed one of the Baron's flabby arms across his shoulders. "We'll have to carry him, though, I can't imagine this guy walking even with assistance."
An unpleasant ten minutes followed before Fergus and Bane had the Baron replaced on his lounge. It was clear now why the rulers of Gulbadar wore only loose silk tunics which reached to their knees. Compliantly enough, Bane brought a basin of water and a towel for Baron Yellow to wash up with.
"But that's enough of that," the Dire Wolf muttered. "We didn't hire on as nurses. Baron, Fergus and I are going to search for your golems. We need to find out what is going on here."
The Baron managed to raise an arm from the elbow. "You can't leave me here. One of you must stay with me."
Bane seemed to be fighting back an urge to start yelling at the man. "Look. Right in front of you. A wedge of cheese, strips of smoked meat, some kind of fruit.. I don't know what it is, a pear or something. Here's a tumbler of water. You'll be fine for the moment. Fergus and I have to go."
The enormous man's voice cracked. "I've.. I've never been left alone before. I'm afraid."
"God give me strength," Bane snapped. "I promised myself I wouldn't give you Gulbadarites any lectures. But honestly, I swear this is your problem. You and your royalty friends have got to start getting into a state where you can at least move around a little! Didn't you ever think something might happen to your Manikins- no, skip it. Forget I said anything. It's not my problem."
"You're the Dire Wolf, aren't you? I've heard tales of you. Please, please, either you or Fergus stay here with me," the Baron pleaded like a child.
"We can't," Bane said. "The other Barons might be in the same situation as you. There's no telling what we're going to face out there. Fergus, you ready to go?"
"Aye," the adventurer said as he picked up his sword from where he had placed it on the floor. "Baron, I'm right sorry to do this, but there's no other way. As soon as we come cross any of yer golems, we'll order 'em to come running to yer. We square?"
The Baron visibly struggled to get hold of himself. "Forgive me. I think I understand. You are men of action and know what is best. But hurry, please!"
"We will," Bane promised and nudged the food tray on its swivel closer to the helpless man's hand. Without a further word or glance, he turned on his heel and strode stiffly from the chamber.
As they passed back outside, Fergus said, "You sorta take charge of the situation, don't yer?"
"Sorry," Bane replied. "I've led teams for so long that I developed the habit of automatically making decisions. But this is your case and I'm here to help. What next?"
"I think horses are called for," Fergus answered. "There's the stable over there. I take it you can ride?"
"Just adequately," said Bane. "I've done it a few times. All these people here are like that man? Helpless?"
"So they are. For hundreds of years, they've been breedin' these Manikins to do anything and everything for them. They're pampered and coddled until they might as well be bairns in nappies. I've had to bite me tongue many a time when they whine about the golems taking too long to warm their bath water just right!"
Still none of the other-men were to be found. Fergus showed Bane where the saddles and bridles were kept. He selected two sturdy horses who were a few years old and which he knew to be good-temperered. Fergus got a white stallion and Bane took the chestnut one. They strapped on the tackle slowly, giving the animals time to get used to them. Finally, Fergus fastened his scabbard behind his right leg where he could draw the long sword and mounted up. Bane leaped up into his own saddle so lightly that he hardly seemed to put foot in stirrup.
"You know, Fergus," the Dire Wolf said, "If something has destroyed all these Manikins, what the hell is going to happen to the Barons?"
Fergus started his horse forward. "True, that has wurried me. I suppose... Well, we'd have to abandon the fools in front of hospitals back in our world. There they'd have to take 'em in even with no identification. After that, I reckon they'll just be an unsolved mystery. Their stories of coming from a land that canna be reached without magick would certify them as tetched in the head."
"Sounds like a lot of tiresome work, going around Gulbadar to round up these people and then haul them back to the world one at a time," Bane snorted. "Not to mention loading them in your SUV and carrying them to dump at ERs or calling for ambulances and waiting from concealment to make sure they're picked up. No, wait. That would take weeks, and they'd all be dead before we could get to them. I sure hope we can find the Manikins instead."
V.
An hour later, they were still riding through the Yellow estate. Not a single Manikin had been seen. Discarded farm implements, tools and wicker baskets were left where they had been dropped. Bane followed Fergus along a road paved with flat shale fragments to a shallow valley where a long building of red brick sat next to a pond.
"We might start here as well as anyplace else," Fergus said as he rode down toward the building. "This is where the Manikins are grown and inspected before being placed into service."
As they dismounted near the wide double doors blazoned with a Yellow banner, the two men tied the horse's reins to a convenient iron post which served that purpose. Bane was lost in memory. He had fought the Other-men created by the Alchemist Lee Hutchins back in the early days of the first KDF team. It had been so long ago... He took a deep breath and straightened up. "Let's look around then?"
Fergus slid the claymore from its scabbard and carried it resting back against his left shoulder. He also had a long wide knife sheathed at his belt that he adjusted with his free hand. The heavy, brooding features were more somber than usual. His dark eyes fixed on his comrade thoughtfully.
"You're a deep one," the Gallowglass said. "What are ye thinkin' then?"
"I have doubts about this whole situation," Bane answered. "History shows that enslaved classes inevitably start trying to overthrow their oppressors. Sometimes they succeed and there's a real bloodbath."
"Ah, these Manikins are not like that!" Fergus scoffed. "I tell yer, a goldfish is more intelligent. Been here three years and not once have I heard a golem speak an original thought."
The Dire Wolf nodded, but said nothing further. He followed the Gallowglass into a vast open space that stunk of acidic fumes and sulfur. Open skylights provided some badly needed ventilation. They walked between two rows of vats filled with bubbling thick tar to stand before a wall where clear glass containers held brown sluglike creatures.
"The substance that forms the false-flesh and the varmints that inhabit the bodies," Fergus said. He tapped the point of his sword against one of the containers. The slug stirred aimlessly, floating in the cloudy nutrient fluids at the noise. "Look at that dumb creature. Deaf, mute, blind until it's in a fake body."
Bane drew closer, remembering his own battle so many years ago. "The slugs are placed in a mold which is filled with the false-flesh. It grows tendrils and nerves and tendons to operate the body. This is High Alchemy, Fergus. Only a few of the true masters of the Great art have ever managed to achieve this."
"The Gulbadarans have been breeding these monsters fer hundreds of years. None of them even understand the process, to be honest. The tales say a man from the outer world came here long ago and started all this. Melchius. Ah, I see you know that name, Jeremy."
"Yes." The Dire Wolf turned to survey the interior. "Still no sign of any Manikins. Where's the next likely spot to find some, Fergus?"
"Aye, these are their cradles. I thought some of 'em might come here. Next, we go to their graveyard." He untied the reins and mounted his horse again. "Come on, big fella, stretch them legs, here we go."
Following on the chestnut stallion, Bane asked, "How long do these Manikins live?"
"Oh, seventy, eighty years barring accidents. They've got no childhoods yer understand. When they first stand up and learn to walk, their bodies are full-grown. Most don't make it past the age of thirty or so because they are so bloody stupid they fall off roofs or cut a leg off by accident."
Drawing up alongside, the Dire Wolf seemed distracted. "And then what happens?"
"Ah, they're put down. Into the rendering vats they go. The false-flesh is dissolved down and used again. The slugs are discarded." He gave Bane a dubious look. "Yer know, they aren't aware of any of it, Jeremy. I see 'em tossing old and damaged golems into the vats and none of them have no idea what's going on."
Bane was silent for a moment. "I wonder. The Barons think some outsider is in Gulbadar, stirring up trouble among the Manikins. Have you seen any signs of an outside sorcerer or Dartha or anything like that?"
"No, I haven't," the Gallowglass grudgingly admitted. "But tis a big realm and I've worked mostly for Baron Yellow and Baroness Red. They've had the most trouble."
Shadows were getting longer as the red sun touched the hills to the West. A slight chill was coming to the air. Still riding next to the Gallowglass, Bane asked, "Is there a common factor linking the Manikins who have gone rogue?"
"Aye, I can see you were a detective," Fergus snorted. "Good question. Nothing obvious. Some were field hands, some carpenters or masons, a few was mansion servants. I thought about it and I canna see how most of them would even have ever met one another. Tis not like they spend their time chattin' yer know."
The Dire Wolf seemed more distant as he thought. "The next step would be to question a few of the golems who were present at the incidents. But if they can barely speak, that might not do any good. Fergus, how about age? Was there a wide range of age among the rogues?"
"No. No, not that yer mention it. They were older Manikins as far as I recall. Let me think. Most were overseers, which means they were at least in their forties."
"Huh. Do the Maninkins get more intelligent as they get older?"
"Oh, now, I canna say they get SMARTER as they age," Fergus said. "Seems ta me it's just experience accumulating that lets them remember enough steps to be able to keep an eye on the newer Other-men.
A very few can remember enough words to come to the Barons with problems on their own initiative."
Bane suddenly reined his horse in as they started up a wide rise of land. "Fergus, hold on. I'm getting a feeling we should be more surreptitious. Something is up." He leaped down from the saddle and led his horse over to some thick brush where he could tie the animal. Suddenly the Dire Wolf was visibly more tense and alert. "I think we should use caution."
More heavily, the big Gallowglass dismounted and also fastened his horse's reins to the brush. He untied his round canteen from the saddle, rinsed his mouth and spit. "From what I recall of our past exploits tagether, I should put some stock in yer hunches, Jeremy."
The Dire Wolf reached up under the sleeves of his field jacket to adjust the hilts of the matched silver daggers sheathed on his forearms. The blades had grown uncomfortably hot. "Let's sneak up this hill and take a peek, what do you say?"
"I'll let you handle stealth," Fergus said. "Dressed all in black and skinny as you be, yer more suited for it. I'll be following." He drew the claymore and rested its wide blade against a wide shoulder. Under the long black hair, parted in the middle to frame his face like a lion mane, the heavy features were sullen. He patted the side of his white horse as he watched Bane took off.
Dropping down to fingers and toes, the Dire Wolf sped up the steep hill as quickly as if he were being pulled up by a rope. He lowered still more as he reached the crest and barely poked his head up beside a cluster of thorny bushes for an instant before backing out of sight again. Fergus approached much more slowly from more to the side, crouching and trying to keep low but his massive form was not suited for it. Bane gestured for the Gallowglass to get down flat and join him.
In a depression that stretched for a hundred yards, the ground was punctuated by round stretches of bare earth that had sunk down several inches. One such area was still an open pit dug down ten feet into the ground. It was here that two hundred of the Manikins stood assembled, silent, unmoving as the true mannequins their name suggested. Their motionless presence was eerie in itself.
Between two of the slight servant golems who held torches, a tall Manikin stood watching the crowd. Like all the others, he wore a drab sleeveless tunic which reached to his knees but its identifying number on front and back had been effaced by a large X in black paint. The strange golem also sported a wide-brimmed round-crowned felt hat jammed down on his bald head.
"What does that one have on?" whispered Bane.
"Tis a sunhat. The Barons wear 'em and a poncho when they go outside, which is maybe once a month to look somethin' over. This Manikin has torn off the Yellow ribbon."
"I'm going to get closer," the Dire Wolf said. Crawling flat to the ground but moving as quickly as most people walked, he skittered along through the bushes. Somehow, the branches did not rustle and there was not the slightest sound as he passed down into the valley. Watching, Fergus lost sight of the man in black almost instantly.
"Tis good at his trade, that there's no denying," the Gallowglass mumbled to himself.
VI.
Bane got almost within reach of the Manikin leader, creeping flat in thick brush behind the creature. As he watched, one of the golems muttered, "Have to clean," which prompted another one to mumble, "Bath time for Master." As they began to turn away, the leader with the sunhat bellowed, "STAY! Don't move. All of you, repeat what I say now. Freedom!"
Almost half of the Manikins shouted "Freedom!" Many made only vague croaking noises as they tried to imitate the word.
"Again, louder! Freedom!"
"Freedom!" Now several of the creatures were really raising their voices with enthusiasm. "Freedom!"
Gesturing for Fergus to remain hidden, the Dire Wolf calmly stood up in plain sight of the hundreds of golems. Uncertain muttering ran through the crowd. Bane stepped closer to the leader, holding up his open hands to show he was not attacking.
"Steady, steady," he said. "I don't mean you any harm. I'm here to learn."
The Manikin with the hat and the letter X on his tunic stared with open suspicion. "You. You are not one of the Masters. You can walk as we do."
"I'm from far away," the Dire Wolf said. "I am called Bane. What is your name?"
The Manikin smiled and stabbed a thumb to his own chest. "The Masters call us only by numbers. I gave myself a name. Not Yellow 127 anymore. Now, Black X."
"Okay, Black X. Your people are smarter than the Barons know. You are speaking in complete coherentsentences, you're clearly thinking for yourself. How about the rest of these folk?"
The golem called Black X gave Bane a cold, appraising glare for a full minute. "When we get older, we become... aware. We start to think. We look at ourselves and wonder, why do we live like this?"
Bane nodded. "Have you told the Barons about this?"
"NO!" roared Black X. "It would mean the rendering vats. If a Manikin starts to show disobedience or starts to act on his own, he is killed! The way you would throw away a broken tool...."
Slowly, imperceptibly, the golems had been drawing nearer. There was no menace in their expressions but only puzzlement as their developing minds struggled to digest new ideas. Bane saw he was becoming surrounded but he did not seem to feel threatened by it. "So, what's going on here? Why the assembly?"
The one called Black X remained silent. He turned to stare out at the huge gathering. Most of the Manikins watched with only the beginning of comprehension, but several of the nearer ones were obviously following the conversation. One of the shorter golems, a personal servant type, shook his head angrily. "No. No," he said unexpectedly. "Don't.. trust."
"My brother has a point," Black X said. "Who are you? Whose side are you on, Bane?"
"I don't have all the facts yet," Bane answered quietly. "Is this a sort of sit-down strike? No, that phrase doesn't translate well into this realm's language. Are you getting the Manikins to abandon the Baron Yellow?"
"Yes. Yes, that is right." The leader of the creatures swept an open hand to take in the crowd. "Without us, the Master can not live long. When he is dead, we will be our own masters."
At those words, many of the golems gasped and began to back away, starting to head away from the assembly. Black X yelled, "Stay! Stay here! Yellow 66 and Yellow 45, keep them from drifting away."
Two of the bigger field workers, tall brutes with bulging biceps and thickly muscled bare legs, shoved some of the doubtful golems back into the mob. It did not take much urging. The Manikins were indoctrinated from their earliest breath to obey and gathering in this assemblage was frightening to them. They responded to the strong hands shoving them by meekly complying.
"I want to understand the situation," Bane told the golem leader. "As far as I can see, the Barons don't understand that you Manikins are conscious. Let me talk to them. At least, I can tell the Baron Yellow it's in his own interest to treat you people better."
"You call us.. people, do you?" asked Black X.
"Yeah. Sure, I don't see why not. But let me ask you something, Black X. If you let Baron Yellow starve to death- and he will, alone and terrified and confused-- then what are all these Manikins going to do with their lives?"
The leader hesitated, looking out over the vast crowd of his kindred staring expectantly at him. "They.. Why, I will teach them to take care of themselves. They will learn new ways and live free lives."
"Will they?" Bane asked. "I doubt it. They are very single-minded and all they've ever known is a life of service. How long do you think it will take before most of them even understand the concept of being free? They will be more lost than ever."
"I will not hear this!" yelled Black X. He yanked off the sunhat and flung it hard to the ground. "The Master has sent you to confuse me. Yellow 66 and 45, grab this man. Hold his arms."
As the two hulking field golems moved toward him, Bane obligingly held out his arms. He had complete confidence in his fighting abilities. With his innnate speed and decades of Kumundu training, the Dire Wolf was certain he could free himself from these two Manikins and disable them instantly, but he wanted to force more revelations from this Black X. He was convinced that the Manikin leader was acting more on emotion than on a well-thought out plan.
As the two golems seized his upper arms, Bane smiled at Black X reassuringly. Then a huge dark form erupted up from the ground near them and a long steel blade flashed in a glittering arc.
VII.
The claymore was not simply swung with both hands on the hilt as one might swing a hammer. Fergus gripped the hilt with his right hand, had his left hand on an unedged length of the blade near the hilt, and pivotted the claymore in a horizontal arc. The long heavy blade whistled through the air as quickly as a light duelling sword might. The nearest Manikin sagged to its knees as its head flew away, and a split second later the second golem was also decapitated. Even as the dying creatures dropped to the ground, Fergus Dunlop had whipped his sword back to an on guard position and glared around for possible attacks.
Some of the Manikins had seen the Gallowglass in action and knew how deadly he was to their kind. Most simply reacted in a visceral primal way after seeing two of their largest and most formidable brethren killed so brutally right in front of them. Either way, the crowd of more than two hundred broke up and scattered instantly in all directions. Screams of pure childlike terror rang out in the gloom.
As Bane was released by the abruptly headless golems, he wheeled to intercept the fleeing Black X. The Dire Wolf lunged and kicked the Manikin leader's right foot out from under him. As the golem fell, he was pinned down by a knee between the shoulder blades. Bane seized the Manikin's right arm and yanked it up straight to further immobilize him.
"Kill me! Go ahead and kill me!" screamed Black X, beginning to wriggle but then stopping at the pain when the grip on his arm was tightened slightly.
"I'm not going to kill you. Relax. Take a deep breath," Bane told him. "That's better. I'll let you up in a minute. Fergus, will you come over here?"
The burly Gallowglass had been cleaning his sword on a dead Manikin's tunic. He straightened up and went over to stand next to were Bane was holding Black X down.
"Jeremy..." Fergus said slowly, "Let no man say that I canna admit when I'm wrong. I heard this golem speak as clear and canny as any mortal Man. If he can reach that point, well, then I have to accept that others can, too."
Black X spoke in a voice that strained to be civil, "Let me up."
Reluctantly, the Dire Wolf eased up his grip on the golem's arm and stepped away. As Black X rolled over and got to his feet, the Manikin retrieved his sunhat and jammed it down again on his hairless head but he made no attempt to flee.
"Where is everyone going?" asked Bane. "They sure scattered fast."
"To their assigned tasks they'll be headin'," Fergus answered. "I guarantee it."
Black X rubbed his arm gingerly. He was not used to being manhandled that way. The Manikin gave Bane a baffled stare. "You let me live?"
"Yeah," said Bane. "I think you and Baron Yellow need to have a talk. With Fergus and myself present, he won't order you sent to the rendering vats."
The Gallowglass unexpectedly roared with delight. Teeth gleamed within the black beard. "This is rich, I'll say. Jeremy, my viewpoint has been stood on its head in just a few minutes."
Fetching their horses, Bane and Fergus escorted Black X back toward the Yellow mansion. As he walked, the Manikin leader began to vent all his grievances about the way the Barons treated their slaves. As soon as a Manikin was injured badly or grew old enough to slow down at its chores, into the rendering vats he went. Those who survived long enough to develop self-awareness were careful not to give themselves away from fear of being destroyed as well. The Barons regarded any deviation from perfect unthinking service as a Manikin going 'rogue.'
As neither Bane nor Fergus objected, Black X warmed to his speech. The Manikins were sent out on even the most menial chores in snowstorms or heat waves with no regard for their survival. Sometimes the house servants were given leftovers from their Masters' feasts but normally they lived on coarse oatmeal and stew with no variety or fresh fruit or vegetables. They were expected to be unnoticeable when tending to their Masters, making no unnecessary noise or drawing attention to themselves even while feeding or cleaning the Gulbadaran lords. Even the more rudimentary minds of the youngest Manikins soon began nursing deep resentment at this treatment but they barely could understand their feelings.
As they neared the Baron's home, numerous Manikins were seen scurrying about, carrying burdens and tools as they made up for time lost. The white stone building was brilliantly lit by pine-soaked torches in sconces high on the walls and the tempting aroma of roast beef came to them on a breeze. As the Dire Wolf and the Gallowglass dismounted, a golem hastened to take the reins and lead the horses back to the stables.
"I have sometimes imagined this moment, standing up to the Master," Black X said uneasily. "And yet, now that it's actually here..."
"Being brave gets easier the more yer do it," Fergus said. "Life is hard. It's a sore fight for half a loaf."
They entered the main reception room to find Baron Yellow freshly scrubbed, wrapped in a crisp clean tunic and munching contentedly on a plate of dried fruit which he dipped in a saucer of honey. As he saw Bane and Fergus come into view, his round flabby face lit with a grin that immediately disappeared as he spotted Black X.
"What is this?" he demanded in a voice that had no vigor to back up its outrage. "Yellow 12, who drew that letter on your tunic? And WHAT are you doing with my sunhat on? I never...!"
The leader of the Manikins approached and for the first time in his existence did not bow low in obeisance. "Things.. change. Call me Black X. It was I who led all my brothers far away today."
"Whuh..huh..." The Baron sputtered incoherently. His face flushed and his cheeks turned purple as he fought to form words strong enough to express himself.
"My God, your blood pressure must be hitting fatal levels," Bane intervened. He stepped forward and leaned down to stare the Gulbadaran square in the eye. "Calm down. Breathe slowly. I'm warning you, your heart is on the edge of giving out altogether." He continued to hold the Baron's attention. "Better. Breathe slowly. Now listen closely. Your Manikins develop intelligence after a certain age. They have feelings just as you do. Now repeat what I just said."
"Manikins develop intelligence after.. oh, that's sheer foolishness!" the Baron managed to splutter. "They are no more aware than a bug is, they merely follow the simplest instructions."
"How do you explain me, Mas--Baron?" asked Black X.
"It's a trick. It has to be. These men have taught you a few phrases."
Unslinging the scabbard from his back, the Gallowglass sheathed his great sword and propped it up against the nearby wall. He pulled over a leather-topped stool and lowered himself onto it. "Baron, tis no trick. You recall the pickle you were in today when me friend and myself found you? Did you like not having servants at your beck and call? Did you feart you would be perishing from thirst and hunger because yer can't take care of your own self anymore?"
The immensely obese man sighed and the dark flush left his face. He closed his eyes and said nothing for so long that Fergus glanced over at Bane questioningly.
"He's alive," the Dire Wolf said. "This is a lot for him to take in. Black X, how are you feeling?"
The Manikin gave a start. "You asked how I was feeling."
"Sure. You okay?"
"I have never had a Human show the slightest concern for me. I should thank you, I believe." The Manikin crouched down in front of the man he had served literally since first breath. "Baron, you see now how much you need us?"
"Yes. Yes, I understand. How could I never have thought of this before? Have I been blind?"
Black X nodded. "We will be treated better from now on, Baron. When we are old or injured, we will not be killed but we will tend each other as needed. We will eat better food and we will have warm blankets and coats to wear in winter. I do not think this is asking too much."
"Sounds like basic decency to me, Baron," offered Fergus. "Think about it from yer own advantage, they'll be in better health and last longer. I daresay a happy heart makes work go faster."
"So much change," said the fat man. Without realizing it, he picked up a slice of dried fruit and chewed on it morosely. "What will the other Barons and Baroneses think of me? I'll be laughed at for pampering my Manikins. No, I can't bear it. This is unthinkable."
"It's change your ways or be abandoned by the Manikins," Bane told him bluntly. "And this is going to happen to the other Barons as well. You need to send messengers to their neighbors and have them send messengers to their neighbors and so on."
Baron Yellow managed to lift a flipper-like hand to wipe his face of cold sweat. Behind him, a serving golem meekly offered a handcloth which the Baron accepted. "I never expected any of this. Not in my most demented dreams. The world is turned upside down. What could happen next?"
"It'll work out. Well, I can only stay a short while," Bane said, "But I'll help with the transition as much as I can. Fergus?"
The Gallowglass rose to his feet. "I reckon I'll be here a long time yet. There will be so many details to work out. And I must ride tonight to see if the Baroness Red is safe. She was havin' trouble with frequent rogues. I expect she will be next to haveta start treatin' her Manikins better."
The leader of the Manikin revolt faced the two Humans from the outside world. "So strange. All my life I was miserable but I never understood what it was I was feeling. I don't have words for it but I think I am feeling Hope for the first time."
Fergus clapped Black X heartily on the shoulder with a meaty palm. "True it is. Even golems want ta be free."
6/13/2017
5/13-5/15/2017
I.
On an outdoor pavilion shaded by a gossamer canopy, six immensely obese people, four men and two women, sat facing inward in a circle. They reclined back on elaborate padded couches. These couches were on wheels for the mansion Manikin to push them about, had a number of swivel shelves holding tasty tidits and tumblers of amber liquid, and each had a series of bells of varying sizes to summon different Manikins. As the rulers of Gulbadar met for the first time in a desperate council, each had a medium-sized Manikin standing by attentively.
At barely three hundred pounds, Baroness Red was the smallest of the rulers presents. The largest was unquestionably Baron Yellow, a vast blob of flesh from which a head protruded on top like an unhealthy growth, and whose arms could not meet across his chest. All the masters of Gulbadar were discreetly covered in silk knee-length tunics wound around their bulks, each wearing cloth the distinctive hue of their titles. As it happened, these rulers had assembled from adjoining estates and none claimed the same color. They knew that, for example, there was another Baron Green in the realm but he lived far enough away that there would be no disputes over who had the greater claim.
"I trust everyone is comfortable?" asked Baron Yellow after a long uneasy silence. Like the others, his head was shaven. It would have been difficult for an outsider to tell those doughy, shapeless faces apart. "My Manikins have been instructed to treat you each as well as they would treat me."
"Oh, there is no cause for complaint there," wheezed Baroness Red as she struggled vainly to hoist her swollen body up a few inches. Seeing her effort, one of the mansion Manikins bent forward to assist her, although she was so used to the golems' helping that she didn't notice. "I regret the gravity of the situation has impelled us to meet at all."
"Hah, I had not left my estate in more than a century before this day..." grumbled Baron Green. He moved a finger in the direction of the tumbler on the shelf to his right and a Manikin promptly held it for him to take a sip.
These mansion Manikins were the medium-sized golems, a bit under six feet in height. Completely hairless without even eyelashes, they had light brown skin and features completely identical with each other. Where the laboring Manikins of the fields or the mines wore coarse burlap tunics, these mansion golems had tunics of fine white linen with an identifying number boldly sewn on front and back.
"Where is the outworlder we hired? Shouldn't he be here to protect us?" asked Baron Green. "He should earn his gold!"
"I expect him here immediately," Baron Yellow said. "My messenger Manikin went to fetch him and I take pride in how swift my messengers are. Barons, Baronesses, have there been any further... incidents?"
"Sadly, yes," said Baroness Red. She was the only rule of Gulbadar present who had blue eyes, sunk in folds of flesh as they were. "At my forges, of all places. One of my smithy Manikins began mumbling and muttering even though he had not been given leave or reason to speak. According to the foreman Manikin, the smithy started yelling nonsense and swinging his work hammer about wildly. My foreman acted as I had instructed him and led the other Manikins in the workplace to destroy the rogue."
"It makes me so uneasy," said Baron Green. "Thank Jordyn you were nowhere nearby. So far, none of us have been harmed by the madness of these... these rogues."
"Yet it is just a matter of time," interrupted Baron Yellow. He was the oldest, wealthiest and fattest of the royalty and everyone hung on his next words. "We have managed to bring in an outside mercenary only because my youngest is still mobile enough to go to the real world. I admit, only to you as my peers, that I am deeply afraid..."
"As.. you.. should be!" barked a flat hollow voice. Striding up toward the pavilion was one of the landscaping Manikins. The largest and strongest of the golems, these stood well over six feet tall and were well-muscled. This one wielded a long-handled pruning hook in both hands as he stalked closer.
"Manikin Yellow 49!" snapped the Baron with terror making his voice shrill. "Stay where you are! How DARE you come here unsummoned?"
The rogue golem swung the pruning hook up behind his head, readying to strike. Horribly, the tan face remained passive and blank, with emotion showing only in its hollow voice, "You... deserve this!"
The rulers of Gulbadar gasped but couldn't possibly get up off their couches unassisted, nor did they have any remote chance of defending themselves. In their panic, none of them thought to order their servant Manikins to protect them. They were each close to suffering heart attacks in their sheer terror.
The rogue raised his farm implement overhead, stepping closer to his lord and master, the Baron Yellow. Then there was a harsh slashing sound and dark blood spurting in a gush as the Manikin's head flew off his body and spun away to roll across the pavilion floor. The headless corpse fell to its knees with the pruning hook clattering from lifeless hands.
Standing behind the dying golem, a huge muscular man with long black hair and a bristling black beard swung his two-handed claymore in a figure-8 that flung drops of blood off its blade. On his saturnine face was grim satisfaction.
"Fergus!" cried Baron Yellow in relief.
"Not a second too soon," added Baroness Red. "Fergus! I had not thought to ever meet you!"
"My lords. My ladies. I take it you are agreed now that I am worthy of the fee I ask?" The bearded face split in a grin that flashed flawless white teeth. He bent to wipe his sword on the dead Manikin's tunic before returning it to the scabbard that was strapped diagonally across his back. Because of its length, he had to swing the scabbard forward over one shoulder to sheath the sword.
"Fergus Dunlop, you have served us well indeed," said Baron Yellow. "And yet, as formidable as you are, you are still one man. How can you protect us all from these monsters?"
The man called Gallowglass folded brawny arms across his chest and heaved a sigh that started down by his waist. He was wearing hiking boots, loose trousers of tough material, and an open leather vest without sleeves. "Aye, aye, tis true. Amazing as I admittedly am, I can only be in one place at a time. I have a suggestion, Barons and Baronesses. Let me bring a second warrior from the real world to Gulbadar."
Baron Yellow did not notice as the mansion Manikin wiped the nervous sweat off his flabby cheeks. "But how much difference would one more fighter do?"
"This man is greatly experienced in solving thorny problems such as this," chuckled the
Gallowglass. "I regard him as very nearly my equal in combat, as well. In the Midnight War, he is known as the Dire Wolf. His name is Jeremy Bane."
II.
He had to admit it, he was bored. A year earlier, Bane had felt so burned out by a lifetime spent in the Midnight War that he had finally closed the Dire Wolf agency for good. Several months had followed of lounging around exotic locations, visiting old friends and spending more time at Tel Shai with Cindy. Several times, he had been approached by desperate civilians or by agents of INTERCEPT, the Mandate or Department 21 Black and he had been coaxed into accepting just one more assignment because they insisted he was the only one who could handle it.
Mostly he had lazed about. But the relaxed joy of facing a wide open schedule with no emergencies had worn thin for him. Bane had been analyzed once by a therapist and had been told he had a personality that thrived on stress and crisis. Peace and quiet was not his optimal state. Half a year short of his sixtieth birthday, he was still the Dire Wolf... six feet tall, straight-backed and energetic, slim to the point of looking gaunt. Grey strands were beginning to fleck more thickly in his black hair. He had with difficulty broken a longtime habit of dressing all in black. Today he was wearing plain canvas sneakers, jeans and a red flannel shirt with the cuffs rolled back at the wrists. He still wore long-sleeved shirts even in hot weather because of the matched silver daggers sheathed on his forearms.
Two days earlier, a cheap plastic hummingbird feeder had caught his eye while grocery shopping. Bane had filled it with sugar water and hung it from a hook on the back of his house. Now he stood motionless by his back door and saw one of the tiny creatures flit by with a buzzing noise. The hummingbird paused for a second at the red base of the feeder, gave Bane a sassy look and took off straight up. As he had been promised, the birds appeared right on Mother's Day as if they could read a calendar. It seemed he had found another new hobby.
Well, he thought, they're interesting lifeforms. He understood they were the only birds that could hover. Bane realized that he was quick enough himself to have snatched the hummingbird out of the air without harming it but there was no reason to do. He scrutinized his tiny back yard which ended at the sidewalk of Pierpont Street, watching a single SUV full of chortling teenagers roll by. After living in midtown Manhattan most of his life, he found Forest Hills felt nearly silent and empty. Seeing the hummingbird return, the Dire Wolf allowed a faint smile on his normally unreadable face. Watching that tiny harmless creature, he ironically remembered being chased through the rain forest of Veganora by the man-eating Walking Vultures...
The sound of a car door closing on the other side of his house electrified Bane. Instantly, he was pressed up flat against the back wall and listening with complete concentration. His house was a two-story white structure with a slate roof, and with a dark green Ford Mustang parked in a short driveway. Heavy footsteps sounded on the flat stones leading up to the front door. All the decades of training and experience kicked in. Bane recognized that distinctive tread, so assertive and confident with two hundred and forty pounds of muscle backing its presence up. The Dire Wolf heard no other tread or signs of people, not even whisper of cloth moving, and he was ninety per cent sure his visitor had come alone. Relaxing visibly, shoulders going down and fists opening, Bane stepped around to the side of the house and called out.
"Hey, Fergus!" he said. "I'm over here."
The massive form he remembered came rushing alongside the house. Fergus Dunlop seized Bane in a bear hug, lifted him entirely off the ground and swung him from side to side before releasing him. Bane accepted the indignity with good humor. This was just the way Fergus was.
"We haven't seen each other in, what, seven or eight years?" Bane asked as he was back on his feet. "I haven't even heard rumors about you for a long time."
"Hah! Jeremy, you look great!" the Gallowglass roared in his bass. "I see you respect staying in shape. About me, I've been in Gulbadar for the past three years. I hired out to protect the hopeless fat blobs of that realm from being killed by their golem slaves, the Manikins."
The Dire Wolf frowned, his welcoming smile at seeing Fergus slipping quickly away. "That's one adjacent realm I've never had any dealings with. To be honest, there never seemed to be any reason for me to go there."
"Hey! Bez behind our belts first. Talking is thirsty work. Come, I've leased a Pathfinder for a few days. On my way here, I did espy one of two taverns.. or what passes for taverns in America." He clapped Bane on the shoulder with enough unknowing force to have drawn a wince from most Humans.
"I'm up for that," Bane said. He had his wallet, Link and other personal items on him already. The doors on the house locked automatically when closed and set the Trom alarms which Megan had installed for him before he had even moved in, so he could take off without delay. He followed the big to the sidewalk where a gleaming new Pathfinder sat with the motor running. As soon as they had closed the doors and pulled on the seat belts, Fergus swerved out and took off at a little over the speed limit.
"I had the devil's own time finding you, me boy," Fergus said in his usual tones just below an actual bellow. "The Dire Wolf agency closed! Whoda believed it? End of an era, says I, the Midnight War will be a poorer place."
"Well, I'm not DEAD," replied Bane. "Once in a while, I do take on a case if it seems interesting or if no one else seems available to handle it. What were you talking about, 'golem slaves?'"
Fergus swung hard into the parking lot of a sports bar and grill that had the words HE'S NOT HERE in blue neon cursive filling one window. He tumbled out and slammed the Pathfinder door as if trying to wake anyone in the neighborhood who might have been napping. "Let's settle in and then I'll tell you the whole sad story. I feart there's a massacre coming that will leave Gulbadar empty of Human life."
III.
Finding a corner booth, both Bane and Fergus instinctively tried to take the seat from which both the front door and the exit could be seen. Sheepishly, the Gallowglass yielded for once. He ordered a pitcher of beer, which he called 'Bez,' and drained his mug as quickly as a magic trick before refilling it.
Bane drank his own beer a bit more slowly but with no reluctance. He saw no reason to explain to his comrade, but decades on the Tagra tea had left Bane's body with such enhanced healing that alcohol had no perceptible effect on him. Gangsters and informers who tried to loosen him up with booze were invariably impressed by how much he could hold, but in fact Bane might as well have been drinking spring water for all he noticed.
"Let me tell you about Gulbadar," Fergus began with the second mug finished. "It's no canny land. I think there are maybe seventy Barons and Baronesses, each living alone on an estate miles from any neighbors. They never visit each other. These estates are crawling with hundreds and hundreds of Manikins, waitin' on their masters hand and foot. Tis Manikins who work the fields and tend the livestock, Manikins who do the carpentry and weave the cloth and cook the food. Manikins feed and bathe and pamper their masters to an unholy extent. When ye see the royalty of Gulbadar, it's horrified you will be. Too fat to walk, too sloggy with feasting to think clearly, too lazy to even realize how helpless they've made themselves!"
Bane took a long sip of his own beer. "Sounds like a nightmare."
"It IS! When I first explored that realm, I felt like retching. And there's no use talking to the Manikins either. They're too demmed stupid to hold a conversation. Ye ask one a simple question like what is the food on the plate and it takes them forever to answer with one word like 'mutton' or 'beans.' Each Manikin can only perform three or four simple chores, they cannot hold more than that in their pewlin' little brains." Fergus filled his mug again, took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice down. "The Barons pay me in gold bars that are near pure, else I'd never set foot in that land again."
"I have a question," Bane interrupted. "Where do new Gulbadarites come from? It sounds like they wouldn't be up to reproducing the natural way."
"Each Baron buys a few babies from our world to raise." Fergus could not have looked more disgusted if he had been trying. "From poor war-ruined countries, I suppose. Manikins rear the bairns in cottages with only the barest contact with their so-called Father or Mother. Tis another thing that makes me sick at heart. No wonder they feel it's normal to never see another Human for years on end!"
Bane was gazing past the Gallowglass, off into the distance. He seemed to be distracted. "I've heard warnings that we're all going to end up that way. Because of automation. We'll have so many machines making life more convenient that we'll end up being unable to take care of ourselves. The people of Gulbadar seem like a good argument that this could happen."
"It's plain awful ta see!" yelled Fergus, then caught himself and toned his voice down. "If something happened to their Manikins, the Barons and Baronesses would starve where they sit on their fat arses. They're more helpless than a babe." He filled his mug again, then gave a suspicious stare to the nearly empty pitcher as if wondering where the beer had gone.
Pouring the last of the beer into his own mug, Bane caught the barmaid's eye and gestured. She brought over a fresh pitcher and took the empty one, asked how everything was and if they wanted to order anything to eat.
"In a bit, my dear," answered Fergus with a shamelessly roguish leer. "Thank you."
During this exchange, Bane had been thinking about the Trom he had known. He had worked with both Leonard Slade, a full Trom, and with Megan Salenger, a Human orphan who had been raised by the Trom. Both had practiced keeping their bodies fit and healthy, eating well and exercising scrupulously. The Trom showed that possessing advanced technology did not necessarily lead to physical degeneracy. Then Fergus interrupted his train of thought.
"I haven't even gotten started on the Manikins," he rumbled. "Those bleedin' abominations. The Barons grow 'em like crops, breedin' them for specific jobs. Short thin ones, medium sized ones, big huge bruisers. Not Human atall, they isn't. The body is mostly solid fiber tissue with a sorter pink slug in the torso that actually runs everything. Manikins they're called, sometimes 'golems.' The Barons call me Fergus, Golem Slayer when they wants to butter me up."
"What's the problem? Why do they need a world class fighter like you?" Bane asked. "The name 'Gallowglass' carries a great historical import."
That compliment appealed to Fergus Dunlop. He struck himself in the chest to produce a belch, then continued. "A few years ago, Manikins started to act up. Not a lot of them, only a few here and there. They refused to carry out orders and wandered off into the wilderness. Some destroyed themselves. But lately, Manikins have been goin' rogue. They turn murderous and attack their masters." He shook his leonine head sadly. "You can imagine how scairt the Gulbadars are. They sent one of their younger wards, that is one who can still walk, to our world and recruited me. I demanded a fair price and I been killin' rogues ever since."
"I see," Bane said slowly. "But what exactly is going on? Why are these golems going rogue?"
"Ah! The Barons think some outside influence is at work. A warlock from the real world? A Dartha or Nekrosan? No one knows, but they think some agitator is at work to end their reign. Gulbadar has rich deposits of gold and copper and iron. There are fertile fields and great lakes filled with exotic fish. You can see why a sorcerer would covet the realm."
The Dire Wolf did not comment for a long silent moment. He was staring down at his folded hands on the table in front of them. Finally, he glanced up and those pale grey eyes struck Fergus with their sudden intensity. "We need more information. I don't feel we have a solid grasp on the situation. I'll go to Gulbadar with you, Fergus."
"Sorry I am to bother you," the big man said. "I didn't know you had retired, Jeremy, or
I wouldna have come to see you."
"That's okay," Bane answered as he took another sip from his mug. "To be honest, I was getting restless. Maybe my time to leave the Midnight War hasn't really come yet."
"Tis a lang road that no got a turnin'," said Fergus as if to himself. He drained his own mug and smiled contentedly.
IV.
They returned to Bane's house to prepare. Fergus fetched a cylindrical duffel bag from his rented SUV and a long canvas scabbard that held his claymore with its hilt covered so it was not quite as obvious he was walking around Queens with a two-handed sword. While he waited, Bane went inside and changed into his field suit. All black, the suit consisted of heavy boots with steel-capped toes and heels, pants of tough leather-like material and crewneck shirt, a waist-length jacket with its dozen gadgets in slits and pouches.. everytime the Dire Wolf put on that outfit, memories of past battles stirred in his mind. He came back outside with the visored helmet tucked under one arm.
Seeing the combat suit, Fergus scoffed. "Aye, you know that technology won't function in Gulbadar, don'tcha? Not even a cigarette lighter. This is the will of Jordyn his own self and there's no gettin' past it. If yer packin' a gun, it'll be just useless weight."
"Even so, I'm wearing the Trom armor underneath my suit and there's another layer of it inside the jacket," Bane said. "That'll turn a blade or reduce impact. The helmet's night vision and scanners may not work here, but it's still good protection." As he spoke, he lowered it over his head and thumbed the right ear pod so that the clear visor slid up into its internal track.
"Well, you know yer trade. Climb in the car and we'll be on our way."
Bane went around and swung up into the passenger seat. Fergus had reached into the duffel bag and taken out a pale blue gem set in a silver plate, small enough to fit in his broad left hand. He held up the Eldar talisman and smiled at Bane. "Tis but a wee little travel crystal, but it works well enough for my purposes. Are ye ready, chum?"
"Sure." The two men clasped their right hands together firmly. A flare of blue light blazed silently inside the SUV and they were gone without a trace.
Because they had been sitting inside the car, they appeared in Gulbadar in a seated position a foot above the ground. Fergus dropped with a thump to the grassy surface and laughed at the experience, but Bane's reflexes were quick enough that he caught himself with both hands and was standing almost instantly.
"I hadna thought of that," Fergus chuckled as he got to his feet and slung his duffel bag over one shoulder. "But then dignity has never bin my strong suit."
They had gated halfway down a long gentle hill covered with short grass. A cluster of trees which resembled elm were almost within reach. Down in the hollow below them stood a white stone house two stories high, built in a square shape with an open courtyard in the center. On a pole set atop its roof, a plain banner of bright yellow silk flapped in the breeze. By the front entrance, a gnarled ancient oak stood with its branches shading two marble benches. Nearby were other, lesser structures including a stable and a gazebo surrounded by flower gardens. Beyond the buildings, fields of wheat could be seen. No one at all was in sight.
"That's odd..." Fergus said. "Where are the workers? There should be a dozen field Manikins at least out this time a day." He started striding quickly down the slope, with Bane right behind him. The Dire Wolf glanced around as they hurried. He spotted two birds taking off in alarm as they passed, identifying them as a type of wren. Like many adjacent realms, Gulbadar had been isolated so long that its plants and animals had diverged noticeably from their ancestral forms.
On his forearms beneath his sleeves, the silver-bladed daggers grew warm. This was a warning that this realm was infused with potent gralic force. Although he did not say anything, Bane grew even more watchful. His grey eyes never stopped moving.
There was an open front entrance with wide stone steps, flanked by larger than life statues of eagles with wings spread. Over the entrance hung another bright yellow banner. Next to the entrance, lying on the paving as if carelessly dropped, was a carved ebony staff crested with long yellow streamers.
"Now I'm dead sairtan something's amiss," Fergus rumbled. He swung the scabbard around and drew out the claymore with both hands. Five feet from pommel to point, the broadsword was an imposing weapon in the hands of a man strong enough to brandish it. "The herald wouldna leave his staff like that if life was still in his unholy false-flesh body!"
The Dire Wolf cocked his head, listening as he turned completely around. "Nothing like this has happened before, then?"
"Never!" said Fergus. "If these Manikins are done with their chores, they tend to just go sit on the ground nearby until an overseer or one of the Barons gives 'em orders. They don't think for themselves, I tell you, I've seen 'em stuck in a doorway cause they're carrying a ladder sidways and their wee tiny brains canna figure how to get through...."
From within the building, an hysterical voice screamed, "Who's there? Is someone there? Help me please! HELP!"
Fergus and Bane entered the open doorway, strode across a polished marble floor illuminated by a tinted skylight in the high ceiling, and found the Baron Yellow lying face down next to his overturned lounge. He looked like melted butter spreading out. The immensely fat man could not begin to lift himself up, the best he could do was to raise his round face to see them approach.
"Fergus! Fergus, help me in the name of Jordyn!" the Baron wheezed. "I can't breathe."
"I don't doubt it, trying to move a carcass like that lying down," Fergus retorted without noticeable sympathy. "Lend us a hand, will ya Jeremy?"
Between the two of them, they hauled Baron Yellow up into a seated position where he could take deep shuddering breaths. After a few minutes, the huge man began to calm down.
"Where are my Manikins?" he asked. "I rang the bells. I called out. None of them answered. Where are they? What has happened?!"
"Damned if I know," the adventurer grumbled. "Come on, Baron, let's get yer back on yer chair shall we?"
"Wait, wait, I was trying to get to my commode. Before I soil myself! Over there behind that folding screen."
Fergus gave Bane a dubious look. "I'd understand if you'd gonna no do this."
"It doesn't bother me," the Dire Wolf said. "I've taken care of trauma victims. I've sewn together people who had been chewed apart. Not much shocks me at this point." He straightened up and placed one of the Baron's flabby arms across his shoulders. "We'll have to carry him, though, I can't imagine this guy walking even with assistance."
An unpleasant ten minutes followed before Fergus and Bane had the Baron replaced on his lounge. It was clear now why the rulers of Gulbadar wore only loose silk tunics which reached to their knees. Compliantly enough, Bane brought a basin of water and a towel for Baron Yellow to wash up with.
"But that's enough of that," the Dire Wolf muttered. "We didn't hire on as nurses. Baron, Fergus and I are going to search for your golems. We need to find out what is going on here."
The Baron managed to raise an arm from the elbow. "You can't leave me here. One of you must stay with me."
Bane seemed to be fighting back an urge to start yelling at the man. "Look. Right in front of you. A wedge of cheese, strips of smoked meat, some kind of fruit.. I don't know what it is, a pear or something. Here's a tumbler of water. You'll be fine for the moment. Fergus and I have to go."
The enormous man's voice cracked. "I've.. I've never been left alone before. I'm afraid."
"God give me strength," Bane snapped. "I promised myself I wouldn't give you Gulbadarites any lectures. But honestly, I swear this is your problem. You and your royalty friends have got to start getting into a state where you can at least move around a little! Didn't you ever think something might happen to your Manikins- no, skip it. Forget I said anything. It's not my problem."
"You're the Dire Wolf, aren't you? I've heard tales of you. Please, please, either you or Fergus stay here with me," the Baron pleaded like a child.
"We can't," Bane said. "The other Barons might be in the same situation as you. There's no telling what we're going to face out there. Fergus, you ready to go?"
"Aye," the adventurer said as he picked up his sword from where he had placed it on the floor. "Baron, I'm right sorry to do this, but there's no other way. As soon as we come cross any of yer golems, we'll order 'em to come running to yer. We square?"
The Baron visibly struggled to get hold of himself. "Forgive me. I think I understand. You are men of action and know what is best. But hurry, please!"
"We will," Bane promised and nudged the food tray on its swivel closer to the helpless man's hand. Without a further word or glance, he turned on his heel and strode stiffly from the chamber.
As they passed back outside, Fergus said, "You sorta take charge of the situation, don't yer?"
"Sorry," Bane replied. "I've led teams for so long that I developed the habit of automatically making decisions. But this is your case and I'm here to help. What next?"
"I think horses are called for," Fergus answered. "There's the stable over there. I take it you can ride?"
"Just adequately," said Bane. "I've done it a few times. All these people here are like that man? Helpless?"
"So they are. For hundreds of years, they've been breedin' these Manikins to do anything and everything for them. They're pampered and coddled until they might as well be bairns in nappies. I've had to bite me tongue many a time when they whine about the golems taking too long to warm their bath water just right!"
Still none of the other-men were to be found. Fergus showed Bane where the saddles and bridles were kept. He selected two sturdy horses who were a few years old and which he knew to be good-temperered. Fergus got a white stallion and Bane took the chestnut one. They strapped on the tackle slowly, giving the animals time to get used to them. Finally, Fergus fastened his scabbard behind his right leg where he could draw the long sword and mounted up. Bane leaped up into his own saddle so lightly that he hardly seemed to put foot in stirrup.
"You know, Fergus," the Dire Wolf said, "If something has destroyed all these Manikins, what the hell is going to happen to the Barons?"
Fergus started his horse forward. "True, that has wurried me. I suppose... Well, we'd have to abandon the fools in front of hospitals back in our world. There they'd have to take 'em in even with no identification. After that, I reckon they'll just be an unsolved mystery. Their stories of coming from a land that canna be reached without magick would certify them as tetched in the head."
"Sounds like a lot of tiresome work, going around Gulbadar to round up these people and then haul them back to the world one at a time," Bane snorted. "Not to mention loading them in your SUV and carrying them to dump at ERs or calling for ambulances and waiting from concealment to make sure they're picked up. No, wait. That would take weeks, and they'd all be dead before we could get to them. I sure hope we can find the Manikins instead."
V.
An hour later, they were still riding through the Yellow estate. Not a single Manikin had been seen. Discarded farm implements, tools and wicker baskets were left where they had been dropped. Bane followed Fergus along a road paved with flat shale fragments to a shallow valley where a long building of red brick sat next to a pond.
"We might start here as well as anyplace else," Fergus said as he rode down toward the building. "This is where the Manikins are grown and inspected before being placed into service."
As they dismounted near the wide double doors blazoned with a Yellow banner, the two men tied the horse's reins to a convenient iron post which served that purpose. Bane was lost in memory. He had fought the Other-men created by the Alchemist Lee Hutchins back in the early days of the first KDF team. It had been so long ago... He took a deep breath and straightened up. "Let's look around then?"
Fergus slid the claymore from its scabbard and carried it resting back against his left shoulder. He also had a long wide knife sheathed at his belt that he adjusted with his free hand. The heavy, brooding features were more somber than usual. His dark eyes fixed on his comrade thoughtfully.
"You're a deep one," the Gallowglass said. "What are ye thinkin' then?"
"I have doubts about this whole situation," Bane answered. "History shows that enslaved classes inevitably start trying to overthrow their oppressors. Sometimes they succeed and there's a real bloodbath."
"Ah, these Manikins are not like that!" Fergus scoffed. "I tell yer, a goldfish is more intelligent. Been here three years and not once have I heard a golem speak an original thought."
The Dire Wolf nodded, but said nothing further. He followed the Gallowglass into a vast open space that stunk of acidic fumes and sulfur. Open skylights provided some badly needed ventilation. They walked between two rows of vats filled with bubbling thick tar to stand before a wall where clear glass containers held brown sluglike creatures.
"The substance that forms the false-flesh and the varmints that inhabit the bodies," Fergus said. He tapped the point of his sword against one of the containers. The slug stirred aimlessly, floating in the cloudy nutrient fluids at the noise. "Look at that dumb creature. Deaf, mute, blind until it's in a fake body."
Bane drew closer, remembering his own battle so many years ago. "The slugs are placed in a mold which is filled with the false-flesh. It grows tendrils and nerves and tendons to operate the body. This is High Alchemy, Fergus. Only a few of the true masters of the Great art have ever managed to achieve this."
"The Gulbadarans have been breeding these monsters fer hundreds of years. None of them even understand the process, to be honest. The tales say a man from the outer world came here long ago and started all this. Melchius. Ah, I see you know that name, Jeremy."
"Yes." The Dire Wolf turned to survey the interior. "Still no sign of any Manikins. Where's the next likely spot to find some, Fergus?"
"Aye, these are their cradles. I thought some of 'em might come here. Next, we go to their graveyard." He untied the reins and mounted his horse again. "Come on, big fella, stretch them legs, here we go."
Following on the chestnut stallion, Bane asked, "How long do these Manikins live?"
"Oh, seventy, eighty years barring accidents. They've got no childhoods yer understand. When they first stand up and learn to walk, their bodies are full-grown. Most don't make it past the age of thirty or so because they are so bloody stupid they fall off roofs or cut a leg off by accident."
Drawing up alongside, the Dire Wolf seemed distracted. "And then what happens?"
"Ah, they're put down. Into the rendering vats they go. The false-flesh is dissolved down and used again. The slugs are discarded." He gave Bane a dubious look. "Yer know, they aren't aware of any of it, Jeremy. I see 'em tossing old and damaged golems into the vats and none of them have no idea what's going on."
Bane was silent for a moment. "I wonder. The Barons think some outsider is in Gulbadar, stirring up trouble among the Manikins. Have you seen any signs of an outside sorcerer or Dartha or anything like that?"
"No, I haven't," the Gallowglass grudgingly admitted. "But tis a big realm and I've worked mostly for Baron Yellow and Baroness Red. They've had the most trouble."
Shadows were getting longer as the red sun touched the hills to the West. A slight chill was coming to the air. Still riding next to the Gallowglass, Bane asked, "Is there a common factor linking the Manikins who have gone rogue?"
"Aye, I can see you were a detective," Fergus snorted. "Good question. Nothing obvious. Some were field hands, some carpenters or masons, a few was mansion servants. I thought about it and I canna see how most of them would even have ever met one another. Tis not like they spend their time chattin' yer know."
The Dire Wolf seemed more distant as he thought. "The next step would be to question a few of the golems who were present at the incidents. But if they can barely speak, that might not do any good. Fergus, how about age? Was there a wide range of age among the rogues?"
"No. No, not that yer mention it. They were older Manikins as far as I recall. Let me think. Most were overseers, which means they were at least in their forties."
"Huh. Do the Maninkins get more intelligent as they get older?"
"Oh, now, I canna say they get SMARTER as they age," Fergus said. "Seems ta me it's just experience accumulating that lets them remember enough steps to be able to keep an eye on the newer Other-men.
A very few can remember enough words to come to the Barons with problems on their own initiative."
Bane suddenly reined his horse in as they started up a wide rise of land. "Fergus, hold on. I'm getting a feeling we should be more surreptitious. Something is up." He leaped down from the saddle and led his horse over to some thick brush where he could tie the animal. Suddenly the Dire Wolf was visibly more tense and alert. "I think we should use caution."
More heavily, the big Gallowglass dismounted and also fastened his horse's reins to the brush. He untied his round canteen from the saddle, rinsed his mouth and spit. "From what I recall of our past exploits tagether, I should put some stock in yer hunches, Jeremy."
The Dire Wolf reached up under the sleeves of his field jacket to adjust the hilts of the matched silver daggers sheathed on his forearms. The blades had grown uncomfortably hot. "Let's sneak up this hill and take a peek, what do you say?"
"I'll let you handle stealth," Fergus said. "Dressed all in black and skinny as you be, yer more suited for it. I'll be following." He drew the claymore and rested its wide blade against a wide shoulder. Under the long black hair, parted in the middle to frame his face like a lion mane, the heavy features were sullen. He patted the side of his white horse as he watched Bane took off.
Dropping down to fingers and toes, the Dire Wolf sped up the steep hill as quickly as if he were being pulled up by a rope. He lowered still more as he reached the crest and barely poked his head up beside a cluster of thorny bushes for an instant before backing out of sight again. Fergus approached much more slowly from more to the side, crouching and trying to keep low but his massive form was not suited for it. Bane gestured for the Gallowglass to get down flat and join him.
In a depression that stretched for a hundred yards, the ground was punctuated by round stretches of bare earth that had sunk down several inches. One such area was still an open pit dug down ten feet into the ground. It was here that two hundred of the Manikins stood assembled, silent, unmoving as the true mannequins their name suggested. Their motionless presence was eerie in itself.
Between two of the slight servant golems who held torches, a tall Manikin stood watching the crowd. Like all the others, he wore a drab sleeveless tunic which reached to his knees but its identifying number on front and back had been effaced by a large X in black paint. The strange golem also sported a wide-brimmed round-crowned felt hat jammed down on his bald head.
"What does that one have on?" whispered Bane.
"Tis a sunhat. The Barons wear 'em and a poncho when they go outside, which is maybe once a month to look somethin' over. This Manikin has torn off the Yellow ribbon."
"I'm going to get closer," the Dire Wolf said. Crawling flat to the ground but moving as quickly as most people walked, he skittered along through the bushes. Somehow, the branches did not rustle and there was not the slightest sound as he passed down into the valley. Watching, Fergus lost sight of the man in black almost instantly.
"Tis good at his trade, that there's no denying," the Gallowglass mumbled to himself.
VI.
Bane got almost within reach of the Manikin leader, creeping flat in thick brush behind the creature. As he watched, one of the golems muttered, "Have to clean," which prompted another one to mumble, "Bath time for Master." As they began to turn away, the leader with the sunhat bellowed, "STAY! Don't move. All of you, repeat what I say now. Freedom!"
Almost half of the Manikins shouted "Freedom!" Many made only vague croaking noises as they tried to imitate the word.
"Again, louder! Freedom!"
"Freedom!" Now several of the creatures were really raising their voices with enthusiasm. "Freedom!"
Gesturing for Fergus to remain hidden, the Dire Wolf calmly stood up in plain sight of the hundreds of golems. Uncertain muttering ran through the crowd. Bane stepped closer to the leader, holding up his open hands to show he was not attacking.
"Steady, steady," he said. "I don't mean you any harm. I'm here to learn."
The Manikin with the hat and the letter X on his tunic stared with open suspicion. "You. You are not one of the Masters. You can walk as we do."
"I'm from far away," the Dire Wolf said. "I am called Bane. What is your name?"
The Manikin smiled and stabbed a thumb to his own chest. "The Masters call us only by numbers. I gave myself a name. Not Yellow 127 anymore. Now, Black X."
"Okay, Black X. Your people are smarter than the Barons know. You are speaking in complete coherentsentences, you're clearly thinking for yourself. How about the rest of these folk?"
The golem called Black X gave Bane a cold, appraising glare for a full minute. "When we get older, we become... aware. We start to think. We look at ourselves and wonder, why do we live like this?"
Bane nodded. "Have you told the Barons about this?"
"NO!" roared Black X. "It would mean the rendering vats. If a Manikin starts to show disobedience or starts to act on his own, he is killed! The way you would throw away a broken tool...."
Slowly, imperceptibly, the golems had been drawing nearer. There was no menace in their expressions but only puzzlement as their developing minds struggled to digest new ideas. Bane saw he was becoming surrounded but he did not seem to feel threatened by it. "So, what's going on here? Why the assembly?"
The one called Black X remained silent. He turned to stare out at the huge gathering. Most of the Manikins watched with only the beginning of comprehension, but several of the nearer ones were obviously following the conversation. One of the shorter golems, a personal servant type, shook his head angrily. "No. No," he said unexpectedly. "Don't.. trust."
"My brother has a point," Black X said. "Who are you? Whose side are you on, Bane?"
"I don't have all the facts yet," Bane answered quietly. "Is this a sort of sit-down strike? No, that phrase doesn't translate well into this realm's language. Are you getting the Manikins to abandon the Baron Yellow?"
"Yes. Yes, that is right." The leader of the creatures swept an open hand to take in the crowd. "Without us, the Master can not live long. When he is dead, we will be our own masters."
At those words, many of the golems gasped and began to back away, starting to head away from the assembly. Black X yelled, "Stay! Stay here! Yellow 66 and Yellow 45, keep them from drifting away."
Two of the bigger field workers, tall brutes with bulging biceps and thickly muscled bare legs, shoved some of the doubtful golems back into the mob. It did not take much urging. The Manikins were indoctrinated from their earliest breath to obey and gathering in this assemblage was frightening to them. They responded to the strong hands shoving them by meekly complying.
"I want to understand the situation," Bane told the golem leader. "As far as I can see, the Barons don't understand that you Manikins are conscious. Let me talk to them. At least, I can tell the Baron Yellow it's in his own interest to treat you people better."
"You call us.. people, do you?" asked Black X.
"Yeah. Sure, I don't see why not. But let me ask you something, Black X. If you let Baron Yellow starve to death- and he will, alone and terrified and confused-- then what are all these Manikins going to do with their lives?"
The leader hesitated, looking out over the vast crowd of his kindred staring expectantly at him. "They.. Why, I will teach them to take care of themselves. They will learn new ways and live free lives."
"Will they?" Bane asked. "I doubt it. They are very single-minded and all they've ever known is a life of service. How long do you think it will take before most of them even understand the concept of being free? They will be more lost than ever."
"I will not hear this!" yelled Black X. He yanked off the sunhat and flung it hard to the ground. "The Master has sent you to confuse me. Yellow 66 and 45, grab this man. Hold his arms."
As the two hulking field golems moved toward him, Bane obligingly held out his arms. He had complete confidence in his fighting abilities. With his innnate speed and decades of Kumundu training, the Dire Wolf was certain he could free himself from these two Manikins and disable them instantly, but he wanted to force more revelations from this Black X. He was convinced that the Manikin leader was acting more on emotion than on a well-thought out plan.
As the two golems seized his upper arms, Bane smiled at Black X reassuringly. Then a huge dark form erupted up from the ground near them and a long steel blade flashed in a glittering arc.
VII.
The claymore was not simply swung with both hands on the hilt as one might swing a hammer. Fergus gripped the hilt with his right hand, had his left hand on an unedged length of the blade near the hilt, and pivotted the claymore in a horizontal arc. The long heavy blade whistled through the air as quickly as a light duelling sword might. The nearest Manikin sagged to its knees as its head flew away, and a split second later the second golem was also decapitated. Even as the dying creatures dropped to the ground, Fergus Dunlop had whipped his sword back to an on guard position and glared around for possible attacks.
Some of the Manikins had seen the Gallowglass in action and knew how deadly he was to their kind. Most simply reacted in a visceral primal way after seeing two of their largest and most formidable brethren killed so brutally right in front of them. Either way, the crowd of more than two hundred broke up and scattered instantly in all directions. Screams of pure childlike terror rang out in the gloom.
As Bane was released by the abruptly headless golems, he wheeled to intercept the fleeing Black X. The Dire Wolf lunged and kicked the Manikin leader's right foot out from under him. As the golem fell, he was pinned down by a knee between the shoulder blades. Bane seized the Manikin's right arm and yanked it up straight to further immobilize him.
"Kill me! Go ahead and kill me!" screamed Black X, beginning to wriggle but then stopping at the pain when the grip on his arm was tightened slightly.
"I'm not going to kill you. Relax. Take a deep breath," Bane told him. "That's better. I'll let you up in a minute. Fergus, will you come over here?"
The burly Gallowglass had been cleaning his sword on a dead Manikin's tunic. He straightened up and went over to stand next to were Bane was holding Black X down.
"Jeremy..." Fergus said slowly, "Let no man say that I canna admit when I'm wrong. I heard this golem speak as clear and canny as any mortal Man. If he can reach that point, well, then I have to accept that others can, too."
Black X spoke in a voice that strained to be civil, "Let me up."
Reluctantly, the Dire Wolf eased up his grip on the golem's arm and stepped away. As Black X rolled over and got to his feet, the Manikin retrieved his sunhat and jammed it down again on his hairless head but he made no attempt to flee.
"Where is everyone going?" asked Bane. "They sure scattered fast."
"To their assigned tasks they'll be headin'," Fergus answered. "I guarantee it."
Black X rubbed his arm gingerly. He was not used to being manhandled that way. The Manikin gave Bane a baffled stare. "You let me live?"
"Yeah," said Bane. "I think you and Baron Yellow need to have a talk. With Fergus and myself present, he won't order you sent to the rendering vats."
The Gallowglass unexpectedly roared with delight. Teeth gleamed within the black beard. "This is rich, I'll say. Jeremy, my viewpoint has been stood on its head in just a few minutes."
Fetching their horses, Bane and Fergus escorted Black X back toward the Yellow mansion. As he walked, the Manikin leader began to vent all his grievances about the way the Barons treated their slaves. As soon as a Manikin was injured badly or grew old enough to slow down at its chores, into the rendering vats he went. Those who survived long enough to develop self-awareness were careful not to give themselves away from fear of being destroyed as well. The Barons regarded any deviation from perfect unthinking service as a Manikin going 'rogue.'
As neither Bane nor Fergus objected, Black X warmed to his speech. The Manikins were sent out on even the most menial chores in snowstorms or heat waves with no regard for their survival. Sometimes the house servants were given leftovers from their Masters' feasts but normally they lived on coarse oatmeal and stew with no variety or fresh fruit or vegetables. They were expected to be unnoticeable when tending to their Masters, making no unnecessary noise or drawing attention to themselves even while feeding or cleaning the Gulbadaran lords. Even the more rudimentary minds of the youngest Manikins soon began nursing deep resentment at this treatment but they barely could understand their feelings.
As they neared the Baron's home, numerous Manikins were seen scurrying about, carrying burdens and tools as they made up for time lost. The white stone building was brilliantly lit by pine-soaked torches in sconces high on the walls and the tempting aroma of roast beef came to them on a breeze. As the Dire Wolf and the Gallowglass dismounted, a golem hastened to take the reins and lead the horses back to the stables.
"I have sometimes imagined this moment, standing up to the Master," Black X said uneasily. "And yet, now that it's actually here..."
"Being brave gets easier the more yer do it," Fergus said. "Life is hard. It's a sore fight for half a loaf."
They entered the main reception room to find Baron Yellow freshly scrubbed, wrapped in a crisp clean tunic and munching contentedly on a plate of dried fruit which he dipped in a saucer of honey. As he saw Bane and Fergus come into view, his round flabby face lit with a grin that immediately disappeared as he spotted Black X.
"What is this?" he demanded in a voice that had no vigor to back up its outrage. "Yellow 12, who drew that letter on your tunic? And WHAT are you doing with my sunhat on? I never...!"
The leader of the Manikins approached and for the first time in his existence did not bow low in obeisance. "Things.. change. Call me Black X. It was I who led all my brothers far away today."
"Whuh..huh..." The Baron sputtered incoherently. His face flushed and his cheeks turned purple as he fought to form words strong enough to express himself.
"My God, your blood pressure must be hitting fatal levels," Bane intervened. He stepped forward and leaned down to stare the Gulbadaran square in the eye. "Calm down. Breathe slowly. I'm warning you, your heart is on the edge of giving out altogether." He continued to hold the Baron's attention. "Better. Breathe slowly. Now listen closely. Your Manikins develop intelligence after a certain age. They have feelings just as you do. Now repeat what I just said."
"Manikins develop intelligence after.. oh, that's sheer foolishness!" the Baron managed to splutter. "They are no more aware than a bug is, they merely follow the simplest instructions."
"How do you explain me, Mas--Baron?" asked Black X.
"It's a trick. It has to be. These men have taught you a few phrases."
Unslinging the scabbard from his back, the Gallowglass sheathed his great sword and propped it up against the nearby wall. He pulled over a leather-topped stool and lowered himself onto it. "Baron, tis no trick. You recall the pickle you were in today when me friend and myself found you? Did you like not having servants at your beck and call? Did you feart you would be perishing from thirst and hunger because yer can't take care of your own self anymore?"
The immensely obese man sighed and the dark flush left his face. He closed his eyes and said nothing for so long that Fergus glanced over at Bane questioningly.
"He's alive," the Dire Wolf said. "This is a lot for him to take in. Black X, how are you feeling?"
The Manikin gave a start. "You asked how I was feeling."
"Sure. You okay?"
"I have never had a Human show the slightest concern for me. I should thank you, I believe." The Manikin crouched down in front of the man he had served literally since first breath. "Baron, you see now how much you need us?"
"Yes. Yes, I understand. How could I never have thought of this before? Have I been blind?"
Black X nodded. "We will be treated better from now on, Baron. When we are old or injured, we will not be killed but we will tend each other as needed. We will eat better food and we will have warm blankets and coats to wear in winter. I do not think this is asking too much."
"Sounds like basic decency to me, Baron," offered Fergus. "Think about it from yer own advantage, they'll be in better health and last longer. I daresay a happy heart makes work go faster."
"So much change," said the fat man. Without realizing it, he picked up a slice of dried fruit and chewed on it morosely. "What will the other Barons and Baroneses think of me? I'll be laughed at for pampering my Manikins. No, I can't bear it. This is unthinkable."
"It's change your ways or be abandoned by the Manikins," Bane told him bluntly. "And this is going to happen to the other Barons as well. You need to send messengers to their neighbors and have them send messengers to their neighbors and so on."
Baron Yellow managed to lift a flipper-like hand to wipe his face of cold sweat. Behind him, a serving golem meekly offered a handcloth which the Baron accepted. "I never expected any of this. Not in my most demented dreams. The world is turned upside down. What could happen next?"
"It'll work out. Well, I can only stay a short while," Bane said, "But I'll help with the transition as much as I can. Fergus?"
The Gallowglass rose to his feet. "I reckon I'll be here a long time yet. There will be so many details to work out. And I must ride tonight to see if the Baroness Red is safe. She was havin' trouble with frequent rogues. I expect she will be next to haveta start treatin' her Manikins better."
The leader of the Manikin revolt faced the two Humans from the outside world. "So strange. All my life I was miserable but I never understood what it was I was feeling. I don't have words for it but I think I am feeling Hope for the first time."
Fergus clapped Black X heartily on the shoulder with a meaty palm. "True it is. Even golems want ta be free."
6/13/2017