by Rich Handley
“It’s okay, Urko,” his wife said. He blinked again and realized she was not taunting him with the fruit but was instead holding a tall, yellow cup of water before him. “Drink.”
That was when he focused on just how thirsty he was. With a rough hand, he grasped the cup and guzzled the cool, refreshing drink, letting it dribble down his face and pool on his hair. As he drained the cup, Urko came to focus on his surroundings. He was home, in his bed, wearing a rarely used sleeping gown. There were bandages on various parts of his body but he was home. Safe.
Elta looked at him, her lighter brown hair beginning to streak with gray, concern and love in her eyes.
“It has been a day, my husband, but you will heal,” she said, answering the most immediate questions. “Doctor Kira sent a nurse to check on you every few hours, and she says you are healing.”
“What happened?”
Elta sat beside him, gesturing for their teenage son, Urso, to refill the cup. The boy seemed eager to do something, so he loped off toward the tap. She settled by her husband and said, “You were trapped belowground with one of the humans. You were injured in your attempt to free yourself. Zako helped bring you back to me.”
Her words triggered a flood of images and memories. What was it Burke called that underground chamber? A subway station. There were earthquakes and the two were trapped, and he was forced to ally himself with the enemy to escape a deadly fate. But before he could be free, he spotted a poster, one that put a lie to everything he had been taught.
A gorilla was behind bars, on display to humans. The youth in the poster was offering a banana to his ancestor, and Burke’s words played in his memory: “You couldn’t risk my telling anyone, could you, Urko? You couldn’t risk having your friends know the truth: that your ancestors were the lower species, Urko, and that it was the humans who built a civilization beyond your understanding!”
Urko had torn the poster from the wall, folded it and tucked it into his glove. He rapidly rolled over, wincing in pain, his eyes scanning the room for his uniform. Each movement caused him discomfort but he refused to acknowledge it.
“What are you looking for?”
“My uniform!”
“You’re not reporting back to your troops until the doctor clears you,” Elta said firmly. “Councilor Zaius’ orders.”
“There was a paper…”
“There was nothing but your uniform and gear,” she said, gently forcing him back onto the bed. “In fact, we’re having it cleaned and repaired so you look your best when you return to duty.”
He grunted at that, wondering if the poster fell when he collapsed and, if so, where that damning image was.
“Zako brought you back here, semi-conscious, and the doctor worked on your injuries. Zako took command of the troops and said something about seeking the human astronauts.”
Urko’s last memories were of ordering his soldiers to kill Burke and Virdon, but Zako countermanded them. Something about giving his “word”; well, they’d be having words about that when he resumed his post. He presumed Zako would be doing an imitation of a manhunt to keep up appearances, but now suspected he had human sympathies, and there was no room for such sentiments among his troops.
“What happened?”
Such a simple question, but one filled with complex answers. Could he reveal the truth to his wife? Would she even believe it? Burke described things that staggered his imagination. Metal tubes that ran on some form of “nuclear” energy. He paused to consider if any of that energy was still there, and how he could safely extract it and make more powerful weapons for his use. The other things the human babbled about, such as disposable clothing and meals in pill form, sounded wasteful or foolish. Or both. He liked his food in his hand, the variety of tastes, and the ways Elta prepared it. To miss all that for the convenience of a pill? Absurd.
Slowly, haltingly, Urko began to describe his ordeal. When it was just him and his wife, he could let his true self be seen. He was more than just a military commander, but an ape who deeply loved his wife and fiercely wanted to create a world where their son could be safe from humans. He took his duty to his people very seriously, but his family would come first, which is why he divulged to Elta what Zaius or others might consider state secrets.
Could he trust her with the newest secret? Silly question, he chided himself.
“The paper was an image from long ago. It showed… one of us… behind bars. We were on display, Elta. We were zoo specimens, on display for humans!”
“Could that be true or propaganda?”
The question gave Urko pause. He hadn’t stopped to consider the poster’s veracity, and had allowed Burke to taunt him. But he could have been lying. Humans were very good at that.
No, he decided, he had heard the raw emotion in the man’s voice. To Burke, that was the reality.
“If true, Elta, it means the scholars, the sacred texts, are liars,” Urko said, laying back on the pillow, frustrated.
“Is that even possible?” she asked.
“We live in a world where the impossible is proven possible with regularity. Burke and Virdon, the astronauts, and their predecessors, possess such intelligence compared with the humans here. You never saw their ship. It’s beyond anything apes could build—or even conceive of.”
At first, she nodded in silence, sitting still by him. But as he began describing the arguments with Burke and the revelations of human ability, she took his hand, her fingers intertwining with his. They used to hold hands more often, and he paused to idly wonder when they had stopped.
As he spoke, the poster’s mocking image remained fixed in his mind and refueled his anger.
“You truly believe that was the case?”
“Humans can’t be trusted,” Urko said, strength returning to his voice. “I’ve known that my entire life, but when I saw how… intelligent… some were, it reinforced to me how dangerous they were.”
Urso looked at his father with a quizzical expression but Urko chose not to elaborate.
“But I cannot explain what I saw down there. We would never have built tubes and tunnels, so someone did. And that picture. We’d never create that obscene notion.”
“So, Burke spoke true?”
“Yes. No. I hope not,” he finally said, trying to convince himself that there had to be another explanation. He’d leave that to the chimp scientists. As those thoughts filled his mind, he drifted back to sleep.
A day later, Urko finally felt normal again. Despite the pain he still felt, he rose from bed and dressed in simple leathers.
As he dressed, he could hear Elta and Urso talking, resuming some conversation they’d previously had. In fact, he thought, it reminded him of the words he heard as he first awoke.
“Why is it so unimaginable that we’d someday cooperate with the humans?” Urso asked. “We both live on this planet, we’re both intelligent…”
“Don’t let your father hear you say that,” she chided. “You know he has a low opinion of humans.”
“But didn’t Zako and the other human, Vernon—”
“Virdon,” his mother corrected.
“Zako and Virdon worked together to rescue Father. Doesn’t that prove that anything is possible?”
“Virdon and his partner, Burke, appear to be the exception for humans,” Elta said. Urko wanted to interject himself into the conversation, but realized silence was better. He so rarely knew what was on his son’s mind these days. Now was as good a time as any to learn. After all, there might be a tactical advantage in it.
“What if they teach the other humans?” Urso asked. “Then what? We have common problems, like those earthquakes. Why can’t we come up with common solutions?”
“Son, humans and apes have not treated one another well for generations, and we keep to ourselves. It’s better that way,” Elta said.
“Better for who?” he shot back.
“We keep to ourselves, and it’s safer for the humans,” she replied. “We have
our own internal divisions; the orangutans, chimpanzees, and gorillas have their own prejudices. Don’t go adding in humans because you see them as similar.”
“Has no one questioned how they are so similar to us? So similar to the triad that is our society?”
“Triad,” Elta mused. “Fancy word.”
“I do pay attention in class,” he shot back, “regardless of what Father says.”
The conversation drifted to other topics, but Urko heard Elta’s gentle hand guiding it. She didn’t want to further the line of reasoning about the similarities between humans and apes. He approved, since his own dark thoughts were troubling enough.
Until the medical team approved, Urko was officially off-duty, on medical leave, although he snarled at the last nurse. He felt fine, and he was ready to resume his duty and lead the hunt for the human astronauts.
Elta had other ideas.
Urko brooded all the way through their breakfast, unable to get the poster’s image and all it revealed from his mind. He merely grunted at questions from Elta or Urso, barely saying a word when pressed. They recognized the single-focused mood and knew to back off, at least for a time. But once the food was cleared and the kitchen cleaned, Elta appeared before her husband in a fresh dress.
“You’re planning something,” he said, accusing her in a tone he normally reserved for politicians.
“You being home is messing with my routine,” she said brightly. “The sooner we can get you cleared for duty, the better we’ll all feel. To do that, you need some exercise so you can show Doctor Kira.”
“What exercise?” he snarled.
“We’re taking a walk, get you some sunlight, maybe pick some fruit for lunch,” she said in as positive a tone as she could manage. He knew she was trying to make a bad situation at least palatable and he couldn’t argue with the benefit of some movement. He did feel stiff and needed to resume his peak condition as quickly as possible. Urko also noticed how she stood and saw the expression in her eyes. In most matters, his word was final, but when it came to things like this, he knew better than to argue.
“And our son?”
“Coming,” Urso said, a cloth bag slung over one shoulder.
Urko grunted in acknowledgement and they were off. The sun was bright and at first bothered his eyes, but he appreciated the warmth and feel of solid ground beneath his feet. When Zaius had visited the night before, the elder orangutan had reported that there had been no further aftershocks from the earthquake so the danger had subsided. Howala, their village, had taken some damage, but Urko was happy to hear the human settlements were in worse shape. It meant less shelter afforded Burke, Virdon, and that traitor, Galen.
As they walked past the outskirts of their village, Urko realized he was moving with less pain. He needed to push himself, convince others he was fine. There was work to do.
Elta entwined her fingers with his, and Urko relaxed at her touch. They walked along in companionable silence, Urso a few steps behind them. Where his eyes normally scanned the scene for strategic advantages, he now just observed the trees and scrub brush, the tufts of grass ringing gardens. The further from Central City they got, the more natural the land seemed and Urko realized it had been a long time since he had really noticed his environment. He had played out here as a child, and knew Urso and his friends also played catch here, away from any building that might be damaged from an errant throw.
The trio walked by a tree that was scorched, blackened from some gunfight. It was old and hardy, though, still producing green leaves. He studied it and slowed their gait.
“Husband?”
“Zako and I fired on the astronauts here,” he said matter-of-factly.
“How’d you miss? You’re such a great shot,” Urso asked. Urko tried to listen for any sarcasm or pride, but his son’s tone was neutral.
“Moving targets,” was all Urko would say. They picked up their pace and he was brooding once more, images of bananas and bars before his eyes. “I have to find them. Eliminate the astronauts again.”
“Again? I thought they were still alive,” Urso said.
Elta’s fingers tightened around Urko’s, a silent signal, its meaning a mystery to him.
With a heavy sigh, Urko turned and faced his son. “You know these men—Burke and Virdon—claim to be astronauts, men who came here from another time, another place.”
“Yeah.”
“You were young, but there had been others to make a similar claim,” Urko admitted.
“You’re kidding,” his son said in a high voice. “How many astronauts can there be?”
A low growl escaped Urko, and Urso fell silent. How much should he reveal to his son? Was that the warning in his wife’s fingers? She knew everything, of course; he kept no secrets from her. Urso was growing up and would soon be choosing a role to serve. Urko had hoped it would be the military, but so far, the boy had not evinced much interest in marksmanship, riding, or even tracking. In fact, Urso’s head seemed to be in the clouds, always thinking. About what was another puzzle. If this morning’s conversation was an indicator, then he would be branded a problem, making it seem that Urko was unable to rule his own home, let alone the armed forces.
Maybe a cautionary tale about humans was just what was needed.
“I had just been named security chief and the helm of office was finally feeling comfortable on my head when we heard something crash not far from here,” Urko said as they walked. He gestured toward the eastern horizon. Urso drew closer, he noted, which was good. He didn’t want to shout and for his words to carry. This was not for the public.
“Councilor Zaius and his young assistant, Doctor Zira, insisted on coming with me to investigate, but I made sure we had sufficient gorillas just in case it was something that posed a threat. It took an hour to get there, so you can imagine just how loud that sound must have been for us to hear it. What we found was indescribable: twisted metal and what looked like a boxy shape half-buried in the dunes. We counted four figures in white outfits that covered them from head to toe. They looked shorter and slighter than us, human-like, and at that I had my troops fan out. We’d never seen anything like them before, and had no idea where they’d come from or what danger they posed.”
Urko paused and Elta handed him a canteen. He drained half of it rapidly, suddenly aware of how dehydrated he felt—a combination of his injuries and the medicines, no doubt.
“Astronauts?” Urso asked.
“I suppose that is what they called themselves,” Urko said. “I could tell the landing was not as intended. What I couldn’t tell was how many of these creatures there might be, or what danger they posed. They moved about without purpose, but I could see they had no obvious weapons and couldn’t pose much of an immediate threat. Zaius was fascinated by the metal construct, while Zira noted that they appeared uninjured.
“One removed his headpiece and revealed himself to be a human. Zaius was stunned but fascinated, while I was alarmed at the threat such technology in the hands of humans posed to the people.
“Zaius theorized it was a vehicle, a vessel, or a ship of some kind. He insisted we secure the ship for study, so I dispatched soldiers to encircle it, taking measures and determining whether something so big could be moved. With the others, we approached the four humans. What surprised me was that humans could build anything so complex. All our studies showed they lacked metal-making skills. The machine’s purpose escaped us, although Zaius was already coming up with ideas. He has more ideas than there are stars in the sky. My goal was to apprehend them and learn their origins and what threat they posed to our people. If they were to report to their home, they might summon more, so I was determined to kill them at once.”
Urso paused mid-step and stood still. His mouth dropped open and he asked, “Without talking to them?”
“Son, humans cannot be trusted. Humans lie. They do whatever they can to stay alive, but every human is a threat to our way of life.” Urko realized he was saying almost wor
d for word what his instructor had told him decades earlier, long before ships from the stars fell on the earth.
The boy with the banana and the ape. They looked primitive in a way, but not alien.
“Can we build anything like that?” Such an innocent question.
“No,” Urko said firmly. “And we don’t need to be up in the air. We’re bound by gravity and that’s the way of the world.”
“What happened?”
“They were not entirely unarmed, but were carrying tools I did not recognize. As they waved them about the air, one spotted our approach and they scattered, running from the ship. I ordered my soldiers to secure the ship while I went in pursuit.”
“How’d you know which one to follow?”
“My instincts, Urso,” Urko said. Then with a wink, “It’s why I was made a security chief.”
Urso nodded at that and stepped closer as they walked.
“I couldn’t understand it. I knew that territory from my training days and had ridden it often, yet they were clever and managed to elude me and my soldiers. They displayed a level of cunning and intelligence none of the local humans had ever shown. I was intrigued and horrified at the same time. If there was an intelligent tribe of humans who could build such things and be so clever, then they were an immediate threat to our people.”
“That sounds like a drastic conclusion,” Urso said.
Urko stared at his son for a long moment, not saying a word. “Humans are, at best, to be tolerated, but are dangerous and always should be seen as a threat. The hunt took time and rarely had I ever been so openly challenged. I was actually exhilarated by it. I trailed one man toward a mesa and he scampered up its side very impressively. He was almost apelike in his speed. One of my soldiers was closer and began up the side after him. The human—their leader, as it turned out—was smart enough to trigger many rocks to fall, and my lieutenant was killed.