-Henry David Thoreau
--Redwall Revisited--
Crowds of fans, reporters, and photographers stood behind the ropes on either side of the long red carpet leading out from the side exit of the auditorium like the tongue of a snake. Every band that performed in the concert walked upon it, smiling and waving at their screaming fans as they headed for the limos that would take them to their personal flats or condominiums. However, the one exception, the group called BioHazard, had with them two otters and a hare, and were headed for the Rio Sol Resort Hotel on the coast northwest of Redwall City.
After the band and their guests were loaded into the white limousine, their mole chauffeur closed the door and hurriedly got into the driver's seat.
"Well," grunted Leo, the bull, to the otters, "You two sure look like a nice couple." Jannis blushed a bit as Wes grinned slightly and nodded once.
"Ever been in one of theze?" hissed the Monitor lizard, whose name was Garr, patting the seat as he faced the somewhat nervous ottermaid to his right, who shook her head.
Amelio chuckled a bit, saying to the otter to the left of him, "You two sure are quiet."
Wes, electing himself as spokesbeast for him and Jannis, said, "We've just never had the honor of sharing a hoverlimo with a universally renowned rock band."
The members of BioHazard looked down at their footpaws, chuckling or muttering phrases of modesty just as they got out of the concert traffic and headed up the onramp, going westbound on the Stag Hare Freeway.
Nicholas was unusually quiet as he looked south down the coastal homes through the window to his right. The mountain he saw in the distance on the beach seemed to shift to the east as the limo bearing the license plate "BIOHZRD" sped along the highway, just a bit faster than the speed limit.
Gavin, who was sitting to the hare's left, placed a heavy paw on his shoulder. "Something the matter, friend?" he asked in his gruff baritone voice.
"Not quite, chap. Just gazin' at the mountain o'er yonder."
"You know," said the ocelot, "They say that many centuries ago, in the time of the Redwall Abbey, it used to be the home of many great warriorbeasts."
The Woodsorrel hare chuckled to himself, "What a lot of fibs an' fairy tales. Beasts livin' inside o' flippin' mountains..."
Gavin laughed along with him, shrugging, "Well, ya never know."
Leo, who was sitting in the other window seat, turned to his right, saying, "What're you two havin' a laugh about?"
The spotted wildcat shook his head and waved a paw at his companion. "Nothing, mate." Catching a glimpse of the bright lights through the window beside the bull, he said, pointing a claw, "Look, there it is!"
Everybeast in the limousine crowded to the right side of the vehicle to gaze out the tinted windows. "Aye, mates," said the stoat, "That's the Rio Sol Resort. We've got reservations for 11:15 on the roof." Picking up the phone on the back wall, Amelio spoke through it. "Thurgood?"
"Zurr?" came the mole driver's reply.
"Thurgood, don't miss the offramp coming up or we'll be goin' through the ocean tunnel."
"Oi bain't goin' t' pass ee gurt ezzit, zurr. Not loike las' toime," he chuckled.
"There's a good lad."
In the eternal darkness of Zarcon, billions of lights illuminated the slow rotating planet. It took as long to revolve as it did to orbit the sun, and being in the shadow of Ates all the time, both halves of the globe were darkened, save the capitol city of Amethyst. It was built in the single sunlit spot on the northern tip of the planet and partially stood in the shadow, so visitors could enjoy both night and day.
As cold as the shadowed Zarcon was imagined to be, all but a circle of ozone over Amethyst and the surrounding area had been burned off by carbon dioxide pollution when it was first colonized. Thus, the heat that entered over Amethyst circulated over the planet.
The weasel, Bryin Kevson, head of the Life Technologies, Inc. excavation crews of Zarcon, put the addressed manila envelope into the metal box by the road, sighing scornfully at the primitive message delivery system. He headed back to his tent and turned on his AteSoft - 1024 laptop.
Due to a weak magnetic field emitting from the area, a sonar could not be used to locate any objects that were buried, so they had to do it the old-fashioned way; mapping the sites and digging with shovels and picks.
Originally, the dig was a project to mine for materials and ore to be used in Life Technologies' bizarre experiments, until clues turned up the indication of a machine at the site that could be useful to the corporation.
After entering his access code, the weasel inserted a disk he had received from the analysis lab at Life Technologies. After opening the file, Bryin sat back to watch the video.
It was the timid vole scientist that appeared on the screen. "Greetings, Mr. Kevson. We got the samples you sent us." The crude map that had been sent by the weasel appeared on the left as the video window decreased in size and shifted to the right. "The site is a five by five grid, as shown here. The soil is most magnetic on the right edge of Site L, almost the middle of the ten mile square dig site, and seems to thin out as it get closer to the edge." The area map flashed a dot on the edge of Site L, which rippled out over the other sites.
"The sample from Site I showed evidence of brass, granite, sandstone, marble, limestone, and iron, in that order of quantity, as well as various types of wood." Site I blinked on the map. "Shards of brass and decaying wood were in the sample from Site D." The respective grid square blinked. "As for the other samples, not much turned up except for the magnetism." The map shrank into the green background as the video window came back to full size. "Well, if you need any other services, just contact us." The video window shrank until it disappeared, then was followed by the words "Dr. Antony Lavodan" and his monitor phone number before the file closed itself.
Tipping back on his metal folding chair, the weasel took a cigar out of the back pocket of his jeans and lit it with a match from the box on his table. He took a cloth from the bag by his seat and wrapped the disk he ejected from the computer in it. Taking his transparent green bottle of beer from next to the bag, Bryin took a swig of it before drenching the bundle with it. Setting it aflame with a second match, the weasel tossed it into the metal can beside his desk and puffed on his cigar. Just as he was enjoying himself, a rat stuck his head between the tent door flaps, and Bryin nearly fell backwards.
"Sir, we found something in Site D," said the rat excitedly, "You may want to come and see this."
"What is it?"
The rat chuckled slightly. "You won't believe this, but I think it's a bell..."
The light of the waning full moon shone through the stained glass windows in the main entry hall of the Greywall Abbey. The cement structure stood in the flatlands across the dirt path from the ruins of the Redwall Abbey. The new abbey was built to the exact liking of the abbey before it and was a perfect reflection of it over the path. It was similar to the Redwall Abbey to the last detail at the time that the old abbey had been first built, with the exception of the bell tower, which was wasn't constructed until much later. However, since the bells were not a part of the original plans and had probably been stolen since neither could be found in the wreckage, there were no bells to put in the tower.
A lone squirrel was awake, sitting against the wall, facing the two most important symbols of abbey: the tapestry and sword of Martin the Warrior. Tarko had been told many stories of the adventures of the Warriormouse as a Dibbun, and now that he was fifteen years old, he had been made the Greywall Abbey Champion. The squirrel stared at the ancient weapon, wondering how effective it could possibly be in modern day battle.
The middle-aged badger Abbess Lilith sat beside the young Warrior. Keeping her gaze upon the sword, she said, "I know something troubles you, Tarko."
He sighed, nodding slightly. "Yes, a dream I had. Of Martin."
"Well, don't hesitate to give me all the details." Lilith turned her head to the squirrel beside her. "What did he say?"
Tarko closed his eyes before he began. "He was wearing a polished suit of armor, and leaned on his sword in front of the him, very much like the way he does in the tapestry. He stood in front of the abbey gates, and he then he spoke to me in verse:
"A band of vermin will march past soon
On the day of the eve of the next full moon.
Though small in size and blindly irate,
And the number of beasts to defend are great,
It will be a battle that cannot be won;
Foolhardy to fight and shameless to run."
The squirrel opened his eyes before saying, "Then that was it. I knew Martin had more to say to me, but..."
Lilith nodded slowly, considering Tarko's dream. "Did he say whether these vermin would be Pure or Pseudo?"
"I don't think so... but if they want to fight, I figure they would be Pure."
"What about why they want to fight?"
Tarko answered quickly, "Same reason any vermin wanted to take Redwall Abbey."
"Are you sure Martin stood in front of our gates and not the old abbey's?"
"I... I couldn't tell..." Abbess Lilith sighed and placed a paw around the squirrel's shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Tarko. Perhaps I shouldn't ask you so many questions."
"No, it's alright. I understand your concern. You don't want our abbey to fall the same way Redwall Abbey did." There was a moment of silence before the Abbess and Warrior looked at each other, wide-eyed.
The abbess laughed, patting Tarko's back as they stood up. "We'll talk to Brother William tomorrow morning after breakfast." Picking up the sword and handing it to the Warriorsquirrel, she added, "I'm sure that dusty old Recorder can find something in his parchments."
Tarko nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."
"Until then, I saw we get back to sleep and dwell upon Martin's words."
The squirrel and badger headed down the moonlit stone hallway, both silently considering the words of the dream.
The same midnight moon that shone upon the Greywall Abbey north of Redwall City shimmered aestheticly upon the Great Ocean. Two massive structures stood alone on the coast, representing both the past and the present: the mountain Salamandastron and the Rio Sol Resort Hotel.
A great spread had been laid out on the long table on the roof of the thirty story hotel: an appetizer of mushroom and leek pasties, soft grain rolls with fresh butter and redcurrant or pineapple jelly, and a fruit salad with mangoes, cantaloupe, cherries, pears, and coconut shavings in a red wine sauce, with an assortment of fruit cordials to drink.
"And this is just the wallopin' appetizer, wot?" said Nicholas, spreading the yellow pineapple jelly on his ninth roll.
"Aye," said Amelio, snatching the butterknife away from the hare, "An' if you keep eatin' this, you won't have room for the main course."
"All the better," said Gavin in his mild baritone voice, "That's one less beast to pay for."
Ignoring the ocelot's remark and sipping his strawberry fizz cordial, he said, "Wot? Me not have room? This is a Woodsorrel hare you're talkin' to chap, best scoffers in all Mossflar."
Wes spoke around a mouthful of fruit, "If you ask me, all hares are the best scoffers in all Mossflar. There's not one I've seen finish a meal without lickin' 'is plate and the plates of the beasts next to 'im."
"I zecond that," said Garr, nodding once and taking a bite of his mushroom and leek pasty at the same time.
Thoroughly indignified, Nicholas continued to sip his cordial, eying the basket of rolls, muttering, "What a bally waste o' good vittles..."
As the other beasts laughed at the hare, the shrew waiter brought the main course of watershrimp and hotroot soup, roasted grayling with cactus slices, grilled woodpigeon marinated in lemon juice and soy sauce, ravioli stuffed with spinach in a green pesto sauce, and salmon roe sushi.
"You know, said Gavin, ladling the soup into his bowl, "I heard somewhere that a lot of the recipes used at this hotel are recovered and adapted from old recipes used in the Redwall Abbey."
Jannis took a section of the roasted fish and a slice of the steamed cactus. "I'll believe it. Watershrimp an' 'otroot soup's been around for a long time."
Most of the meal thereafter went in silence, and conversation didn't start up until after a dessert of apple crumb pie was served.
"So, mate," started Amelio, "What line o' work 're ye in?"
Wes wiped his fork before hesitantly answering, "Well, I'm applying to be part of the Mossflar Star Force." He almost flinched, waiting for Jannis to start crying again and was surprised when she didn't.
"Really? That's pretty big stuff you're goin' for."
"Aye," said Nicholas, his fork clattering as he dropped it on his plate and stood up, "'Spec'ly since you'll have t' compete with me for that spot, chap."
"Is that so?" replied Wes, sounding unconcerned and not bothering to look up at the hare. "Best of luck to ye, matey." The otter shoved a piece of his pie into his mouth before smiling at the hare.
Nicholas grumbled, sitting back down and redirecting his attention to his slice of pie. "Bad form, chap... grinnin' with scoff in yer bally piehole..."
The night ended with the band and their guests heading down to their rooms, the Couples' Suite and the Executive Suite, on the thirty-ninth floor, just below the indoor half of the restaurant.
Jannis shouted to Wes from the rose-wallpapered bathroom as she brushed her short black headfur clad in a complimentary purple silk bathrobe. "The service and room is nice, but the bathroom is like a nightmare form the twenty-first century... manual flushing toilets, remote sensor faucets and showers..."
The Trueflight otter nodded, but wasn't even listening while he sat on the left edge of the queen sized bed with its red sheets and clean white comforter, staring at the monitorphone on the nightstand. Wes had read the card with the phone instructions five times over, convinced he should call his parents but doubtful that they would let him stay at the hotel if he did. He sighed, flopping down on the overstuffed cotton pillow, his green silk robe rippling out beneath him as he bounced twice on the springy bed before settling on the mattress.
Jannis finished up in the bathroom, switched off the light, and saw Wes staring up at the ceiling, lying on the bed in eagle position, as she came out of the bathroom. "Is somethin' wrong, Wes?"
He sighed, shaking his head. "Ev'rything."
Jannis sat up against the headboard and got under the comforter, chuckling slightly, saying, "Even me?"
Wes sighed again before responding, "Ya know what I mean..." He paused before adding, "By th' way, why didn' ya start gettin' emotional when I mentioned the Star Force at dinner?"
She turned to look at Wes. "'Cause I'm goin' with you."
Wes blinked and stared at her in disbelief. "Yore not serious, are you? You could be killed!"
"Oh, and just 'cause yore a guy, you won't be?"
"No, no, it's... well..." At a complete loss for words, he sighed again.
"Sorry, Wes," the Whiteheart otter said, sliding under the covers, "If you have no choice but to leave, I don't see why I should stay either."
"What about yore parents?"
She hesitated before answering, "Well, what about yores? Did they act'ally let you go or are you telling yourself they did?"
Wes turned over on his side, choosing to sleep on the blankets instead of under them. "Alright, you've won this'n. I guess I can't change yore mind then?"
Jannis giggled. "Nope." Clapping her paws twice, the room lights turned off and the lights of the city illuminated the suite as the two otters laid awake, considering what the future may hold in light of the night's events.