Savages. Albina’s eyebrow twitched. She saw a man and a woman on horseback—but the man was no savage, he was intelligent, and she recognized his mind. One of the three so-called “astronauts”—Mr. Taylor—has returned.
Mr. Taylor, Mr. Dodge, and Mr. Landon had passed through the Forbidden Zone months ago. The most susceptible to their influence, Mr. Landon had been tagged and made their unwitting spy. They had followed his thoughts to Ape City, but there he had been butchered. The savagery done to Mr. Landon’s mind had severed the connection, violently, and a feedback loop had lashed out at them. That cost them the mind of their conduit, the General of the Defense.
The general had been rendered vegetative.
If Mr. Taylor was indeed a scout sent back here by his ape masters, then an invasion might be imminent. The concept was…
Terrifying.
Mr. Taylor and the woman are on the periphery of our range, Caspay communicated. We attempted traumatic hypnosis. It was brief and… unsuccessful. This was cause for concern. Without the mind of the General of the Defense to augment them, their illusions grew harder and harder to maintain.
There was the sound of robes. Ongaro and Adiposo joined them. Together they descended the stairs toward the sealed doors of the Corridor of Busts. All four knew what had to be done—one of them had to break the Holy Reverie. The Holy of Holies had to be informed. Only one of them was bold enough to do it.
I will go, Albina asserted.
* * *
The Corridor of Busts was far more than ornamental. Each likeness was cast in ceramics and coated with a different hue of metallic plating in order to add permanence to its form. Each was a representation of a Mendez long gone. Together, they told a story.
The bust of Mendez I appeared healthy and virile. The next two generations bore evidence of decay, clearly showing the results of long-time exposure to radiation. After that, the busts changed. The faces resembled Mendez I yet again, but clean, with no trace of contamination. Even more telling, all the busts onward were identical in facial structure. They all looked exactly like Mendez XXVI.
The combined history of the mutant race resided within them. Each was a receptacle of thoughts and experiences of those former holies, sealed in a psionic phylactery. They weren’t technological in the traditional sense, but instead contained quartz and other energy resonators. On those crystals the Mendez lineage had imprinted the entirety of their psyches—the accumulated memories and knowledge of all the previous twenty-five rulers of the mutant society, accessible through mental communion and physical contact.
One day the current Mendez would reside there with them.
For the past fortnight, however, He had sought the advice of His progenitors. Petitioned them for guidance in staving off an invasion by the apes—particularly now that the General of the Defense had been rendered vegetative. His Holiness had started with His immediate predecessor—Mendez XXV—and worked His way down the line. With each successive contact the message was the same: it appeared as if there was no hope.
Then He had connected with the mind of Mendez XIV. Under the reign of the former Holiness their society had unearthed a tunnel wherein they had discovered the remnants of New Manhattan—and an entirely different tribe of mutant survivors. Ones brought about not by the blessed kiss of God, but by man’s science. These mutants were heathens, the result of cross-gene manipulation and mechanical intervention. They were the Inheritors and the Makers, and they made things that were unnatural.
Therein lies your answer, Mendez XIV whispered in His skull.
Abruptly another person’s thoughts interjected.
Holiness…
The cogitation was invasive, yet polite. It held both a sense of trepidation and of haste. It was enough to break the reverie. His contact with XIV severed, Mendez XXVI assessed this newcomer.
Albina, He sent. She knew better than to interfere—for her to have done so had to be taken very seriously. He nodded inwardly, and a quick burst from her told Him everything He needed.
For the first time in weeks, His Holiness spoke aloud.
“Alert the Overseers,” He said, and His voice echoed in the absolute silence. “The heterogeneous experiment must be activated.”
When she didn’t reply immediately, He didn’t need to read her thoughts to know what she was thinking. Long ago, the experiment had been deemed heretical. As much as it might affect their enemies, its power—unbridled and unchecked—could spell doom for the Fellowship of the Holy Fallout, as well.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, He sent.
Albina acknowledged as much, and beamed the Overseers their orders. When she was done, He spoke aloud again.
“If successful, it will be the key to keeping the apes at bay.” Yet He knew the value of caution. “First, we will test it…” He paused. “…on astronaut Mr. Taylor.”
* * *
“Talking humans.” Ursus clenched the scroll in his vice-like hands. “Why am I not surprised.”
“Yes, sir,” Dangral responded. The newly minted major had no idea why Ursus wouldn’t be surprised. To him, the idea of a talking human was both ludicrous and blasphemous. Better to agree now and sort it out later, he reflected.
Before Ursus even made it back to his command center, he had demanded the paperwork of every major division of the city. The general didn’t want to be blindsided. He wanted to know everything that had occurred in his absence. This time, however, his cause was specific. Ursus needed irrefutable proof of the human threat. Something even the gutless president would be unable to deny.
Poring over the reports, he found the most valuable ammunition in those from Zaius and newly appointed Security Police Chief Cerek—in particular the scrolls concerning the human called “Bright Eyes.”
“A mutation,” Zaius had called the man.
It all fit. The hearth and midden. The tools.
Mutant humans.
There had long been rumors of something unknown living in a fabled jungle that lay beyond the Forbidden Zone. Scouts had been sent. They had either disappeared or returned insane.
This “Bright Eyes” had been held within their grasp, but had escaped with the help of some sniveling chimpanzees. This had prompted Zaius to enlist Lieutenant Aurelios and his honor guard. Together they had set off in pursuit.
Maybe the Zone will swallow them whole.
Ignoring Dangral as if he wasn’t there, Ursus continued reviewing the reports, and discovered some business about a second human, as well—one that had been lobotomized. Later in the documents the beast was given a name.
“Landon.”
The beast had killed Simia’s Security Police chief. In doing so, it had removed the only gorilla who might have stood in Ursus’s way. Marcus was dead.
A stick by itself is easily snapped, he reflected. Many bundled together are nearly unbreakable. Second scroll, third verse. One of the Lawgiver’s earliest proverbs.
Ursus had worked hard to unite the gorillas under his banner. He knew that they were stronger together. Unlike the insufferable chimpanzees, who actually celebrated their differences. Or the stuffy orangutans, who reveled in pointless debate.
Marcus had been the last holdout—the one gorilla who opposed Ursus’s point of view, and the only one strong enough to draw others to his side. Marcus and his police force had operated outside the purview of the army, but now he was gone. His replacement—Cerek—was already sympathetic to Ursus’s politics. It wouldn’t be long before the Security Police were absorbed and placed under the general’s command.
Returning to the report, he found that there was no official record “Landon” had spoken. Most likely Zaius had attempted to deal with it quietly—an attempt at protecting the citizenry from the awful truth. But that kind of protection wasn’t what the apes needed. Not now. The truth could be exactly what was needed. What Ursus needed.
“Practice drills,” he muttered to himself.
He would draft an order. Humans woul
d be taken from the cages and used as live targets with which his army would train. It had been a long time since they’d faced a serious threat. His soldiers weren’t as hard as they used to be—the attack on the cliffs had shown him as much. No humans should have escaped.
His troops needed more blood on their hands.
But what else could he implement?
A clamor arose outside in the courtyard.
“You hear that, Major?” Ursus gestured toward the window. “That’s what you get with a democracy, and for what?” he growled. “All to stop the vivisections, and protect a bunch of stupid animals.” He shook his head. “Idiots.”
“Yes, sir,” Dangral replied. “Should I—”
“No,” Ursus said. “For now we must be patient. The last thing we need is an inquiry.” His head throbbed, though. We also don’t need any damned distractions.
Someone knocked on his door.
“Come!” Ursus said, and the door opened.
It was his aide. “I’m sorry, sir, but he insisted that he speak with you—” A cloaked figure brushed past the young ape.
“Thank you, Private,” the newcomer said curtly. “That will be enough.” With a nod from Ursus, the private withdrew. The general gestured to Dangral as well, and the major followed.
The visiting ape was gnarled, his back hunched. His likeness shrouded by cloth, nonetheless Ursus knew him well. It was retired elder Sabian. An informant for the military and the High Council, Sabian had been tasked with watching over high-ranking officials who might develop loose tongues as they entered their senior years. His latest activities were covered in the reports.
When Minister of Science Zao had threatened to reveal mankind’s dark and turbulent past, sharing the information with the general population, Sabian had turned him in. As a result Zao had been exiled to the Forbidden Zone, thus condemned by his former student, Dr. Zaius himself.
Ursus arched his brow.
Zao is dead, he realized. It meant that much to Zaius.
“Elder Sabian,” Ursus said, rising. “What can I do for you?”
“General,” Sabian responded, taking a seat across from him. “It’s more what we can do for each other. This is a sad time for Ape City—for all of Simia, in fact. We have no High Patriarch to guide us through our current trials and tribulations. It’s most distressing.”
Frowning, the gorilla sat again and leaned back in his chair. When Ursus was young, Sabian had been Chief Defender of the Faith, and therefore a confidant of the preacher Kananaios—the general’s evangelistic guardian. Sabian had visited their home many times, and Ursus was well aware of the theatrics he favored.
The elder continued. “I am well aware of your intentions,” he said, “and your need to pass a security declaration.” He paused and steepled his fingers. “If you had the backing of the Church, you would gain popular support amongst the citizenry. With the support of the Citizens’ Council, the assembly would have no choice but to act as you wish them to.”
“Yes, yes,” Ursus said with a wave, “but without a High Patriarch, the Church is powerless.” Frowning, he added, “We both know it will take time for a new minister to be picked.”
“All true,” Sabian acknowledged. “However—” The orangutan raised a shriveled finger. “—a Chief Defender of the Faith can hasten that.”
Ursus was confused.
Dr. Zaius was Chief Defender of the Faith.
“The doctor isn’t here,” he said, “and even if he was, he wouldn’t support—” Without warning Sabian had produced a small legal scroll, pulling it from his vest. Cutting Ursus off, he read from it.
“In the absence of the current Chief Defender of the Faith, a former Defender may come out of retirement and assume the duties of the office.” Then Ursus saw where Sabian was going.
He liked it.
The elder replaced the scroll in his pocket. “Once in office, that Defender can be sworn in as the interim patriarch.” He glared long and hard at the gorilla general. “All it takes is for a senior government official to propose as much, during council session. Surely someone would second the motion.”
Ursus had friends in the assembly. Though timid, at least one or two of them could be relied upon to do as much. It was exactly what he had been looking for. With this, he could call an emergency session.
Today.
Sabian would become High Patriarch, and Ursus would receive the backing of the Church.
Both apes smiled.
* * *
Zaius stared. As his expedition returned from the Forbidden Zone and neared the city limits, the wagon and horses slowed. Lieutenant Aurelios dismounted first, approaching the soldiers stationed outside the city gates. After a moment’s discussion, the lieutenant turned back.
Cornelius grimaced.
It didn’t take a behavioral specialist to read the confusion on the gorilla’s face. Soon Zaius stepped from the wagon and moved up to join them, leaning on his cane as he went.
“Cornelius.”
Zira spoke, but Cornelius wasn’t listening. His attention was on Zaius and the gorillas at the gate.
“Cornelius,” she said again. “Cornelius!”
“What—” He shook his head. “Yes, dear?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“What?” Confusion held court in his skull. “When? How?”
Zira harrumphed, crossing her arms. “I would think you’d know that much, at least.”
Mouth agape, Cornelius struggled to reply. “Yes, of course, dear,” he said. “I mean, this is fantastic news, I just…” His words trailed off. Zira began to suspect he wasn’t even listening to her.
If he wants to keep his handsome head, he’d better not be looking at another chimp, she thought. Anger frothing over, she finally followed his gaze.
Why is the army at the city gates? she wondered. Where are the Security Police?
Zira’s eyes went wide as saucers.
Are we under martial law?
They narrowed to slits.
Ursus.
Zaius walked back to the wagon now, coming around to the rear. Quietly he unlocked the door.
“Now, you two…” Zaius eyed the nearby gorilla soldiers. “Listen to me. I am offering you a reprieve.”
Zira squeezed Cornelius’s hand. Zaius, however, looked far from happy.
“If you be true apes of your word, you will do as I ask of you now.” His eyes were all but shuttered. “Ape City needs your help.”
CHAPTER 8
FALLING TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN
The night was near pitch—with a clear sky, there was nothing to reflect any ambient light. Outside the city, the humans in the cages had settled in, and the gorillas guarding them were dozing, as well.
The time to strike was now.
Six chimpanzees dressed in black rose from Lake Ape. Few if any could have expected it. Apes despised water, and the stealthy simians knew as much. It would be the least likely place for the guards to be watching.
Their leader, Liet, shook water from her ear. The swim hadn’t been as bad as she had feared, although from the look of them, Liberus and Consus had not fared as well. They seemed intent on wringing every last drop from their fur. Quirinus, on the other hand, appeared to feel no ill effects whatsoever. One of the few chimpanzee athletes, he had won awards in both archery and freestyle swimming.
Liet produced the keys she had taken from her late husband’s lab. Dr. Galen had been a surgeon assigned to the academy, and as such had been allowed access to the human cages. Each of her group carried a copy, so each made for a different cage.
To no avail. Galen had been killed nearly a month earlier, and the keys were now outdated—the locks had been changed.
“Abort?” Jaila asked. Before Liet could respond, the youngest ape, Tian, held a finger up to indicate that they should wait. No more than sixteen years old, the rebellious youth crouched and slipped into the night.
* * *
Huddled around a fire near the
wagons were the only two guards who were awake. The nearest one had his back to the boy, sitting on a rotting log and holding a pear over the fire on a stick. On the guard’s belt, jangling against the log when he moved, was a set of keys.
Tian crouched behind the gorilla, then froze as the guard raised his head to sniff the air.
“You smell that?”
The other guard’s nostrils flared. “It’s nothing. Dead animal on the lake bed.”
The first guard inhaled again. “Smells like wet chimp.”
“How do you know what a wet chimp smells like?”
“I could tell you stories…”
The two guards laughed heartily, shaking with amusement. That was all he needed. Moments later Tian made his way back to the cages, keys in hand.
Liet smiled at him.
* * *
Examining the purloined keys, Liberus shook his head.
“This isn’t all of them,” he said. “Worse, only two are for cages.” He motioned toward the ones nearest the forest. Liet weighed his words. While dozens of humans would still be left behind, thirty would be saved. A small victory was still a victory.
“Do it,” she commanded.
Liberus opened the first cage wide, bracing himself for the humans to run.
Nothing happened. He moved closer to peer inside. The creatures merely stared back at him.
“Here.” Liberus hefted the keys. “Get the other cage.” As he turned around to hand them to Tian, he added, “Why don’t they—”
He never finished. Two humans leapt and kicked him to the ground. That was all the signal the others needed. As the panicked beasts trampled Liberus, Tian rushed to the other cage and fumbled with the lock. While Jaila and Consus tried to herd the freed animals toward the trees, Liet and Quirinus waded through the human stampede, pulling Liberus out of harm’s way.
“Are you—?” Liet started.
“I think I broke a rib,” he wheezed.
“Hey!” It was a guard, the one with the candied fruit. Liet pulled Liberus to his feet.
“Go!” he hissed. “I’ll distract them!” Before either of them could stop him, Liberus rushed toward the gorillas, getting just close enough for them to see him in their torchlight.
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