Chapter Four

The twin moons sat in a high vigil, looking down over the ruins of one the outlying villages like sad eyes. Aside from the animal calls and the night wind in the dark branches, nothing within the village square of FallBerry sounded. In truth, the complete absence of every living Chipmunk there was the most compelling reason for the silence.

Through the wall-like tangle of felled trees near the entrance into town, a slightly less than a meter tall figure dressed in an armor of leather and a silver-green breastplate, stepped. Had the villagers been around to see him, the whole place would have rang with oxyphonic cheers and music.

But to this advanced scout for The Autumnal Guard, who was now quietly moving among the trees that made up the dwellings, seeing any male or female still living after this would have been gratitude enough.

The Chipmunk knight soberly went through the somber task of inspecting every home and shop that either rested in the canopies or were built into the protective trunks of the silent trees that made up the village proper.

Leafy debris almost carpeted the grass and earth of the area, as though a hurricane lashed through, but to his chagrin, this was nothing new to him. Torn vines with bits of shredded clothing held in inert tendrils festooned the trees, rooftops, windows and doors.

He stepped into a home and found the disheartening. More of the vines, which he knew weren't of a species indigenous to the continent, and long, thick thorns, like discarded claws, littering the floor. Others were embedded in the walls. All were tinged in recent red.

He tried to filter out his footsteps so as to listen for survivors, but in the back of his mind, he was already going over the report he'd submit later. A report that, like so many others, was having an all too typical and grievous sound to it. This was a dead place.

Picking up a broken length of vine, he sniffed at the oozing sap.

"Four days," he murmured. "No more hit and runs. This was a hunt."

He stood and turned for the door when a sound turned him into lead.

It floated from upstairs and was something he hadn't thought he'd hear. A baby's cry.

Sprinting as quietly as possible up the carved staircase, he reached the door of a small nursery and entered. The place was dimly lit with a single crys-lamp's radiating glow showing the same level of destruction he saw downstairs.

Homing in on the sound, he came to a crib draped in torn vines. Looking in, the knight could see the fidgety infant, kicking and pushing the covers. He reached down to pick up this little miracle and his foot splashed into a blood puddle that pooled in front of the crib, the legacy of that room's victim.

The knight cradled the baby's head and back and got ready to lift.

"How did the baby make it?" he wondered.

The crib's bottom was instantly wrenched downward and broke in a fast fold along its center. Vines snaked out and whipped through the bedding, clutching the space where the baby was a moment ago.

The knight hugged the infant and leapt back as more vines blurred out from underneath the crib to pull his legs out from under him.

"Tangler," he fumed as he ran from the room to the sound of the crib being crushed and pulled apart in violent frustration of a missed kill. It chilled him.

He burst out of the house, the baby clutching the braids of his breastplate as he looked for the entrance of the village to escape. He was thankful that there weren't anymore traps sprung on him on his way from the nursery, but he knew he and his charge wouldn't be safe until they made it back to Command.

Following the route he took while he searched for survivors, he made a hectic beeline back to the entrance and the path back to the forest, where it was relatively safe.

Upon seeing the entrance, he put on as much speed as he dared with a baby in his arms. And fell when a vine grasped his ankle with noticeable force.

The knight turned quickly to avoid landing on the infant, crashing on his back with a hard grunt. He set the crying baby aside on the ground and went for his scabbard.

The vine, still holding him, lifted in the middle and undulated from that point towards the rest of it that hid in the shadows of the entrance. Then its owner emerged.

The figure's appearance gave its opponent the impression that it was a knight or warrior, also, but only in that sense. Otherwise, it was a nightmare of Nature.

It bared a long, impossibly sharp spike of smooth wood that seemed to grow from the top of its bulbous forearm and extended well past its thorn-clawed, vine-like hand.

Yet the duration of time during the weapon's growth, however swift, gave the knight precious seconds to unsheathe and stand. The thorn-spike swung with purpose, its tip seeking to gouge or gore its victim.

The plant-fighter had no physical eyes to speak of, but it followed, pivoted and pressed its attacks on the knight.

The knight dipped his head to the side to avoid a stabbing thrust to the eye, then came around and brought his blade down across the thorn weapon. The edge bit into the woody material and for a few moments, both combatants were locked.

They circled, each one's mind focused on the distance of their bodies in the clinch and an opportunity to exploit or further avoid it.

The plant-fighter brought up its free arm and the tentacular vine that tripped the Chipmunk earlier came waving out to embrace. Seeing it, the knight lifted his leg and pulled a keen-edged dagger from a sheath tied to it.

The baby cooed and the knight turned his head in shock as a second plant-fighter was born from the shadows of the opposite end of the entrance, coiling and unfurling its vine for a killing clutch.

With no further thought, he held his dagger blade-first and threw it across space to the second foe's eyeless, fleshy head. The weapon was driven so deep from the throw that only half of the hilt was buried in it when the plant creature was knocked back into the darkness.

He then brought his boot up and kicked hard against his opponent's wood and leaf covered torso. As the creature was propelled back, its thorn-weapon loosed itself from the knight's sword.

It lurched forward again in attempt to recover and raised its head to "see" the rodent come across with a sweeping blow that nearly decapitated it, turning the back of its neck into a hinge.

It shuddered, falling into a heap. Then the knight knelt beside it, turning it over on its back. He then stood again and without preamble, drove his sword full force into its chest.

The shock of impact told him that he found and struck something hard within it. That prompted him to work the blade back and forth so that the double-edge could cut the wound opening wider.

Then the sword was free again, but its point was buried inside something that was pulled free with it. A large, pulsating seed, like the flesh-covered pit of a peach, dripped and radiated warmth to him.

Ripping it free from the remaining root like connections that still anchored it to its owner, he stuffed the seed into a pouch on his belt for later disposal.

That creature would not rise again, but its companion was still a threat. One the Chipmunk knight didn't have time to attend to.

Carrying up the rodent child, he dashed into the verdant darkness, preying that they didn't run into any more ambushes in the coming light of near morning between FallBerry and Command.

About ten minutes after their departure, the second plant-fighter spasmed and stumbled back to mobile life again, its face healed and the dagger thudding to the turf.

The hunt for the mammals went well, it figured, yet the failure of the trap, the rescue of such precious animal material as the Chipmunk baby and the subsequent escape of two Chipmunks was most...regrettable.

It would not mourn the loss of its partner. Such emotion didn't even exist, even in the simplest electrochemical sense. It was grown for fierce loyalty and fiercer combat.

It shuffled from the village, composing soon after the message it would have to send to its master and creator. The report had to be succinct and to the point. The Prince wouldn't have it any other way...

Everything in Theodore told him that the surreal passage through the pillars was a dream and nothing more. Except he had reason to dismiss the dismissal when he greeted the alien day still holding Eleanor's trembling hand.

He looked around, taking in the ivy and moss covered ruins scattered about the clearing where an identical set of tuning fork-pillars stood. And the trees. From the paths that led to the surrounding forests to the mountains that surrounded them, all were covered in ancient green. On field trips and the occasional visit to his mother's, Theodore confessed silently that he never seen so many trees or felt the air so thick with unfettered life.

He heard Eleanor gasp and thought that she, too, had been in awe of the outdoor surroundings until he noticed the armed Chipmunk soldiers motioning for them to step away from the wide space between the pillars.

The two teens obeyed and then the next platoon of troops materialize before the humming poles. And another, and another, and another. Each joining the growing ranks already in the clearing.

Then the machines came. Coming into view like ghosts and then shaking the grassy ground when they solidified and moved. First the walking, one-manned Personal Armored Combatants, or PAC's. Large, mechanized, chipmunk-shaped war vehicles. They were followed by all of the support vehicles that I.T.O. had brought.

It took little more than an hour to fill the clearing with everyone and everything that had originally been in the erstwhile cave, and although I.T.O. was charitable enough not to have killed them where they stood, both Theodore and Eleanor knew and feared that it wouldn't last.

From where they stood under the dubious protection of their armed guards, the youngsters tried to find their families in the milling crowds. Orders being called and answered and clustered waves of unfamiliar faces rewarded their efforts.

For long moments in their private quiet, the feeling of being alone and stranded with I.T.O. in, what felt like unfamiliar territory, settled over their hearts like a black shroud. How would they survive, how could they survive in that organization's tender mercies.

They were branded as traitors to their species. They heard as much before the transition to wherever they were at present, so the two entertainers were given no allusions as to how they would be dealt with when all was said and done.

A pensive Eleanor took notice of an equally pensive Theodore, still looking around, discarding faces that weren't friends or family and nervewrackingly trying to put on a brave face in the process. For as long as she could remember, she had been as much support system for him as girlfriend, helping him through rough spots not nearly as dire as this with an almost maternal bearing.

It wasn't that Theodore was completely helpless, more that has personable nature and nonthreatening bearing made it hard for him to be completely assertive or commanding when situations arose where he needed to be. He was almost superego.

Still, despite that, or perhaps because of that, she loved him. She would try to look after him and comfort him, even if it was her last living act. What she hadn't known or even considered to think, was that despite Theodore's well-founded anxiety and confused feelings, he, too, had made the selfsame vow to her.

Their mutual thoughts broke off at the noticing of a commotion moving through the crowds, but its cause wasn't discerned by either of them. Then, the two were herded by gunpoint towards what seemed to be the center of it.

Other armed groups ahead parted away from Theodore and Eleanor and their escort like a grim procession and the unease the teens felt earlier intensified with every approaching step they were forced to make.

One of the SecuriMunks apparently felt Eleanor was lagging behind a bit, so he pressed the barrel of his already drawn ThunderGun against her upper back and shoved her hard.

With a pained gasp, she stumbled forward, almost tripping and pitched forward into a fall. She righted herself in time to hear a familiar voice command,"Stop it!"

Theodore's.

The escort came to a tight halt as he and the SecuriMunk just stared at each other in challenge. Eleanor was stunned silent. She could see that although Theodore stood his ground against his better-trained opponent, he trembled visibly, also. Combat just wasn't what he was used to.

And yet he remained resolute. He would flinch, but he wouldn't back off and he wouldn't change his mind.

Theodore's mind was blank, running on adrenaline auto-pilot. The reason for doing this offset some of the shock of realizing what he had done. Stare down someone who could burn him down in an instant.

'Not good', he thought soberly, seeing how the SecuriMunk wasn't backing down at all and behind his eyes, was seemingly wanting Theodore to test his devotion to Eleanor for the simple interest of causing as much harm to him in the shortest amount of time.

Theodore barely felt his forearm being held reassuringly by Eleanor."It's okay, Theodore,"she whispered, clearly fearing an escalation of trouble he couldn't get out of and wanting to show her pride of him."I'm alright."

The stand-off held for another minute until another SecuriMunk with command piping on the uniform approached them.

"Stand down, soldier,"he commanded in an even tone. A flicker of hesitation ghosted across they younger officer's face, then he stepped away from Theodore slightly.

The SecuriMunk Commander turned a gruff eye to his charges."Okay, you two,"he scolded. Then he regarded Theodore.

"Pretty gutsy, kid,"he said with a measure of admiration, then snarled,"But give us trouble again and there'll be trouble."He turned to his squad."Troops, resume!"

The escort continued to move along, but Eleanor still afforded a moment to talk. She put her hand out and held Theodore's, ignoring the spasms of fear she felt through it."Thank you, Theodore, but I don't want you to get hurt over me."Then she added quietly,"You might be the only one I'll ever see again. I don't want to lose you."

Theodore was too nervous to say anything. The stand-off did that, but he would have found it difficult to say much to what she had just said, at any rate, so charged with emotion was the look in her brown eyes.

He looked inward. It was something to do and something he needed. His mind played with the notions of actual chivalry. Chivalry. It had to be that because there was no other explanation for it. No thought and no judgment. Just an automatic gut reaction that shocked him more than her oppressor.

He couldn't help noticing what a nervous wreck he became because of it, and he wondered if he could ever do it again. Would ever do it again. Knowingly.

That ambivalence weighed on him as the escort finally finished navigating the two prisoners through the sea of I.T.O.. They stopped at the back of a ring of Chipmunks: SecuriMunks, MunkTechs and a smattering of I.T.O. company execs. After a few minutes, Theodore and Eleanor were brought inside the center of the ring, and then their escort departed.

Their worry turned into fast relief when they saw their brothers and sisters congregated in a cluster with their backs slightly turned to them and large colored pieces of cloth lying by their feet. Theodore and Eleanor moved closer to see what was going on and was about to ask why they didn't see David or Miss Miller yet, when their preconceived perceptions of the world took a jarring nosedive.

Standing in the middle of their children's protective ring was what could have been interpreted as David Seville and Beatrice Miller, though it was a little hard to do so, since the two of them were physically indistinguishable from the boys, the girls and every other Chipmunk in the clearing. Words died in the two teens' mouths.

Covered in the now way oversized shirt and dress, David and Miss Miller gave synchronous looks of apology to their youngest, looking as stricken as the rest of their families.

David was wearing a style to his tuft of head fur that was similar to the one he sported during his Human days and was slightly taller than his sons, just as Beatrice also was a little taller than her daughters. Her elderly features made the transition to her Chipmunk persona very successfully.

"Dave, is that you?"Theodore squeaked, completely flabbergasted. To which David, upon opening his mouth, squeaked back,"Yes, Theodore. It's me. I don't know what happened. One moment, I stepped through those tuning forks in the cave and the next moment, I looked like this."

"Are you all right, Miss Miller?"asked Eleanor.

"We-Well, I don't know, dear,"Miss Miller chirped out."I think so. I'm just glad you're two are okay. We were all worried when we didn't see you."

"Well, where are we?"Brittany fretted."It doesn't look like Bulgravia to me. Heck, it doesn't even feel like Bulgravia around here."

Simon straightened up and cleared his throat, more to combat his own apprehension than to look authoritarian."If I would hazard a guess, I'd say we're not on Earth anymore."

All but Jeanette unisoned,"What?"

"I'm afraid he's right,"she voiced."Those pillars in the cave had to have been using sound to make dimensional portals. That's what brought us here."

"Okay, but where's here?"Alvin asked.

"Exactly where we're meant to be,"said a confident voice nearby."Where we're destined to be. Where it all began."

As one, both families turned to the sound and saw Arthur standing beside three other well-dressed males, who watched their prisoners curiously.

"Who are you?"asked David as he protectively walked ahead of the rest to regard the speaker.

"My name is Arthur Duval,"he said coolly."I am the Field Executive of I.T.O..To my right is my father, Phillip Duval, the CEO. To my le-"

Arthur was on his back, watching the clouds in a daze from the roundhouse right David lashed out.

"That was for my son Simon,"David said in a menacing voice.

Nearby SecuriMunk squads converged within firing range of David, but Phillip waved them off."Stand down, troops."he said to them. The squads lowered the arms but stood vigil, regardless.

"Hello, Mr. Seville. I must admit that you look much better as a Chipmunk than as a furless, savage cretin,"Phillip said."But I do regret what happened to your son on Science Island. My son can be very passionate about the cause."He glanced at still prone Arthur."Too passionate, at times. Yet thanks to your son's and Miss Jeanette's help, we were able to get much closer to our goal than we could have on our own."

Beatrice fired a harsh stare at him."You terrorists kidnapped our children. They'd never help you unless you forced them to, you coward!"

"Old woman, we stand at the cusp of a great change. For the universal betterment of the Chipmunk People and their birthright of supremacy, sons and daughters can and would be sacrificed as often as needed to achieve that goal. Including yours."

"Does Arthur, here, count?"she shot back.

"He understands."

Phillip looked down to see his son starting to stand up unsteadily. Arthur made the mistake of looking in the direction of The Roaming Eyes' faces. The ghosts of amusement played across them to his private shame. He was about to consider what his father had said about sacrifice and the cause when he heard the horns.

From all around the clearing, appearing from every tree canopy and every trunk, stepped partially armored Chipmunks. From their number, a female clad in a stately dress that matched her bearing, fearlessly strode with her escort, towards I.T.O. and their prisoners, sunlight catching in her raven-black hair.

"Stand down,"Phillip commanded his SecuriMunks.

The female stopped when she reached captives and captors and regarded them with equal interest."Good morrow to you. Your arrival was well-timed. Well-timed, indeed."Captives and captors were both puzzled by all of this.

She motioned to one of her bodyguards and the knight raised an animal horn to his lips and blew. From the sharp note, a growing ring of Chipmunk knights wearing greenish-silver breastplates done in leaf filigree and soft, quick leather, encircled the whole of I.T.O.'s entourage, outnumbering them easily. She then faced her guests again.

"Her Majesty, Queen Winna, is expecting you most urgently,"she said.

"Queen?"Beatrice finally managed to say, though no more enlightened now than the rest.

"Yes, matron,"the female replied."My name is Nira, loyal retainer to Queen Winna IV."She then turned to face the multitude and said to them."Everyone, welcome to EverSpring."