The sound that came slowly towards them in the horrid darkness of the forest, beneath a sky the darkest it could possibly be, was something none of them expected.
It was music boxes.
Gentle, barely audible tinkling of music boxes like whispers all around them beyond the dark limbs of the trees.
And then, with that, came singing.
Children, singing with hushed voices along to the sound of those music boxes.
An eerie and ghostly choir that closed in around them and ensured that the Rusino Guards did not fire off any shots.
And as the Viceroy listened, these were the words he heard.
"There was a man lived in the moon,
Lived in the moon,
lived in the moon,
There was a man, lived in the moon,
And his name was Aiken Drum.
His coat was made of good roast beef,
Good roast beef,
Good roast beef,
His coat was made of good roast beef,
And his name was Aiken Drum."
Eventually, the sound of that dreary high pitched assembly grew louder and louder and yet remained completely invisible in the blackness.
"For god's sake." The viceroy muttered.
"They've found us, turn on your torches!"
The Rusino Guards wordlessly flicked on the lights at the ends of their rifles and shined them frantically around the place, searching for the source of the ever-present singing and the musical boxes.
Darting behind tree trunks so one merely caught the momentary shape of them, more children could be seen. They had red cloaks and hoods. Some of them giggled and darted as the torchlight followed them.
And they called out names.
"Sunfish!" One whispered.
"Come on! Come and play with us."
And the Orphans who were clustered in the group, one or two of them broke off, and seemed to join in, defecting to this cult of little red riding hoods.
Eventually, and suddenly, with what was piercing bright lights, the darkness was wholly obliterated as massive lights exploded all around them. The Viceroy squinted against the whiteness and saw the children running back and forth.
A loud voice boomed over an old speaker.
"HELLO INTRUDERS. PLEASE DO NOT BE ALARMED. TODAY IS A HOLIDAY. OUR ONLY HOLIDAY."
Forward came armed men, through the peering lights.
"IT'S SANITY DAY." Called the voice. The children continued singing and chasing each other in this wild pandaemonium.
Among the armed men that looked, well, really remarkably normal considering they were called madmen, was a man holding a megaphone.
He was dressed in a red suit, a finely crafted silk thing, a three piece suit, pants and coat, with a crisp and starchy white shirt beneath.
How on earth was that thing so well preserved?
The man lowered the megaphone and his head became visible.
YOU ARE READING
Under the Light of the Earth
Science FictionThe Moon is no longer a desert of death. It's albino forests and grey seas and bustling cities and relentless industries, hovering above the earth like a younger sister. In the wake of a War between Earth and it's Moon, a war waged by child prophets...
