The gorilla guard in the crow’s nest got to his feet and unslung his rifle. He peered down toward the ground, but he could see nothing, not even Burke as he clung to the shadowy dark timbers that formed the base of the tower.
“Gorak?” called the gorilla from the top of the tower. “What is it?”
Burke once more disguised his voice as best he could. “Humans,” he called.
That was the signal for Virdon to begin thrashing about in the underbrush again. The noise was clearly audible to the gorilla guard this time. “Hold on,” called the ape in the crow’s nest. “I’m coming down!” The gorilla swung a leg onto the outside ladder that led down to the ground and began the tortuous climb. He grasped the rungs tightly, fearfully, as his rifle swung back and forth. The gorilla guard was very frightened of heights, although that was something he could never tell his commanding officer.
Burke was on the ground level now, standing beside one of the broad base timbers. “Stand still!” he cried in his best ape voice. “Hold, or I’ll shoot!”
“Just a second,” called the gorilla. “I’ll be right there. Hold them off until I can help.”
Burke looked up and watched. Just before the gorilla came within reach, Burke slipped around the corner of the tower. As he disappeared from view, he heard the heavy sound of the gorilla jumping to the ground.
“Gorak?” called the gorilla.
“I got him,” answered Burke.
The gorilla guard needed to hear no more. He dashed around the base of the tower. There was another sickening thunk and the crash of another gorilla body to the ground.
“Not bad,” said Virdon.
“Two for two,” said Burke.
The astronauts dragged the second gorilla to a spot near the first. Then they took time to tie and gag both guards securely. Virdon examined their handiwork critically, then finally gave a satisfied nod to Burke. “Okay,” he said, “we’re all set down here. These guys aren’t going anywhere for a long time.”
“After you?” asked Burke.
“Thank you,” said Virdon. The blond man started up the ladder toward the crow’s nest, followed immediately by Burke. The climb went smoothly and quickly; there were no other gorilla troops anywhere nearby. The two men were confident, yet Burke voiced the only negative thought that had occurred to him.
“You know what I’ve been scared of?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Virdon, anticipating his friend’s fear. “That we got here too late and the message was already relayed.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?” asked Burke.
“How many times in the last few months have you thought anything at all that either Galen or I hadn’t already thought of?” asked Virdon. “No, seriously, it was a possibility that I’ve been worrying about for a while.”
“Hey, look!” cried Burke, pointing far into the distance, where the blue-green of a range of hills was split by the lightning flashes of a heliograph. All else in the panorama was still and serene, grayed by distance, but the bright reflections from the giant mirrors drew all the attention of the two humans.
“All right,” said Burke to himself, figuring the time scale in his head. “That has to be from Aboro’s headquarters, assuming that Galen’s act went off according to schedule. If that’s the case, then we got here just in time.”
The two men watched the heliograph winking its coded message for several seconds in silence. The system was clumsy and inefficient, dependent on the time of day and the weather, but it was the best that the ape leaders could devise—or would allow.
“Can you read it, Pete?” asked Virdon.
Burke stared with his eyes squinted. “ ‘. . . requested on Octavio, an aide to Dr. Zaius. Inform Prefect Aboro of status immediately,’ ” he said. “That’s it. I think they’re repeating the message a second time. Yes, I got it.”
“I’m glad your code-reading is better than mine,” said Virdon.
“The important thing is that Galen pulled it off,” said Burke. “He did it. At least well enough to make Aboro go through the trouble of checking. He was at least that convincing.”
“We’re not out of the woods yet, Pete,” said Virdon, seriously.
“Doggone it, Alan,” said Burke impatiently, “why is it that every time we accomplish something, make some really great heroic play, you have to turn to me with that long face and tell me we’re still hanging around in the Valley of Doom? Why don’t you ever give us credit for our success?”
“I do,” said Virdon. “And I will—after we’ve made sure of it this time. We still have a long way to go. You better acknowledge that message before they get suspicious.”
“Oh,” said Burke. “Yeah. Right. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
While Virdon watched anxiously, Burke studied the mechanism of the heliograph mirror, finding that it was operated on a simple shutter mechanism. He worked the shutters in a brief coded message, then waited.
Across the valley, from the distant hills, came an answering flash. “ ‘Acknowledged,’ ” said Burke. “They bought it. They swallowed Galen, and now they’ve fallen for us. How are we doing?”
“Close,” said Virdon.
“Close, but?” said Burke.
“Yes,” said Virdon soberly. “But.”
“You always have that ‘but,’ ” said Burke. “I can always predict it.”
“That’s what’s kept us alive, enough times,” said Virdon.
“Well, anyway, so far, so good,” Burke replied.
“I’ll grant you that,” said Virdon, relaxing a bit.
“One of the interesting things about that message is that Aboro is prefacing his name with a new title these days,” said Burke. “He’s calling himself ‘Lord of the Apes.’ ”
“I can think of a few apes right off hand that would dispute him,” said Virdon, gazing out toward the now-darkened heliograph tower in the distance. He looked up at the position of the sun, just past noon, sliding down into afternoon. “It’ll take an hour or better for the relays to get the message to Central City,” he said musingly. “Another hour back. We’ll give it two hours and then heliograph the confirmation.”
“Like clockwork,” said Burke.
“That’s what it is,” said Virdon. They both stared down at the peaceful forest below and wished that their lives were as free as they pretended.
Inside Prefect Aboro’s office in Hathor, the gorilla chief was pacing his floor. He was consumed with anxiety and curiosity, and he knew the limitations of the transmitting equipment. There was nothing to do but wait; but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t bother his subordinates every few minutes, just to relieve his own tension.
“Any word from Central City yet, Daku?” he asked as his lieutenant entered.
“We should hear from them very soon, I estimate, sir,” said Daku. There was a short pause. “Aboro,” said the lieutenant slowly, “suppose this Octavio is an imposter? It could be some kind of trap or plot against you. You should be giving thought to that.”
“Believe me,” said Aboro, grinning evilly, “I have, I have. In that case, Octavio will be executed before sundown.”
The time passed as slowly in the crow’s nest as it did in Aboro’s office. There was nothing for Virdon and Burke to do to pass the time. But the time did pass, eventually. Virdon studied the position of the sun, which was just beginning to dip behind the taller of the forest’s treetops. “As near as I can figure,” he said, “it’s been a good two hours. You might as well go ahead, Pete.”
Burke nodded, saying nothing. There was no need for any further discussion; all conversation had been used up many minutes before. Burke went straight to the heliograph mirror, took hold of the shutter handle, and shuffled the shutters in the proper code. Then he stopped and waited.
Far away, a similar heliograph tower watched as a message was flashed toward it. This tower stood on the outskirts of Hathor. One of Aboro’s troopers waited at the base of the structure, in order to get the messa
ge to the prefect as quickly as possible. The tower received its message, then flipped a quick reply, not realizing it was asking for Burke’s fiction.
“All set, Alan,” said Burke. “Let me have it.”
“Take your time and get it right,” said Virdon, getting set to dictate the message. “ ‘Octavio, Assistant to Zaius, on official business. Extend courtesy. Signed, Supreme Council, Bron, Acting Secretary. For Prefect Aboro only.’ ”
Burke’s hand flipped the control handle, and the mirror beamed its coded dispatch toward Hathor.
Some time later, Aboro’s voice was heard in his office, reading from a transcribed copy of the message, delivered by his trooper. His voice was intended to be noncommittal, but Daku could read the trace of excitement in Aboro’s tone. “ ‘. . . on official business. Extend courtesy. Signed, Supreme Council, Bron, Acting Secretary. For Prefect Aboro only.’ ”
“That seems to clear up any doubt,” said Daku.
Aboro just stood staring across his office, the paper forgotten in his hand, his eyes unfocused, dreaming of previously unreachable horizons. He, Aboro, General and Commander of all gorilla army and police forces in the entire ape empire! Unbelievable!
“So Octavio is really who he says he is,” said Daku, again trying to break his superior’s daydreaming. Daku had his own plans, and Aboro might need some careful guidance in the more delicate moments from now on. Urko had said himself that Aboro wasn’t the best at making plans . . .
“Which means that one day soon I shall be Commander Aboro!” whispered the prefect.
Daku smiled. Aboro was beginning to think practically again. The two gorillas shook hands solemnly, marking the occasion.
Less than an hour later, Galen was ushered into Aboro’s office by Daku, who was going out of his way to act like the subservient and unctuous aide he was supposed to be. Aboro sprang to his feet when he saw the chimpanzee. “A pleasure to see you again,” cried Aboro, almost out of his mind with anticipation. “Ah, Octavio, won’t you have a seat?”
Indeed, Daku had already led Galen to a chair, and Galen was already sitting. Aboro didn’t seem to notice.
Galen laughed softly, into one palm. He looked at Daku for a moment, then turned back to Aboro. “What is this odd preoccupation of yours with chairs, my dear Aboro? It seems that every time I’m in your presence, I’m being urged from one seat to another. If I stand, I’m practically pushed back into a chair. I assure you, I’m quite comfortable, and very skilled at maintaining that comfort. That is a talent one acquires in Central City. One, I’m sure, that it will not take you long to learn.” He smiled meaningfully.
“Yes, Octavio,” said Aboro, almost dizzy with disbelief. He could barely understand the significance of what Galen was telling him.
“Just remember, please, my dear Aboro,” continued Galen, “I am quite capable of sitting down without an invitation. Now, have you been thinking over what I mentioned to you earlier?”
“I . . . yes, I have,” said Aboro weakly.
“I thought so, I thought so,” said Galen, laughing softly to himself as though there were some private joke between them. It was just the sort of thing a pompous bureaucrat would do. It was the kind of thing that made Galen so valuable to the schemes he and his astronaut friends devised. “And of course you checked on my credentials at the same time.”
Aboro looked with horror at Daku. “Who could have said anything about that?” cried the prefect, his innocence wounded for the first time.
Once more Galen laughed. “Don’t look so guilty!” he cried in mock delight. “In your shoes, I would have done the same thing. Well! I would have been very disappointed if you hadn’t!” His tone changed immediately, from one of light bantering to a cold, businesslike voice. “Have you reached any conclusions?” he asked.
“About—?” murmured Aboro.
“Your old friend,” said Galen, beginning to show some impatience at the verbal game they were playing. “It should be obvious that nothing can be done about you until something has been done about him.”
Aboro nodded his agreement.
“I expect that you have a suggestion or two?” said Galen lightly, leaving all the responsibility in Aboro’s lap, so the prefect would realize that he was being tested.
“Why can’t the Council simply . . . dismiss Urko?” asked Aboro.
“My dear Prefect!” cried Galen, half-rising from his seat. “On what grounds? Even the Supreme Council needs evidence. I was hoping you could provide that. Besides, Urko and Zaius are the Supreme Council, in effect if not in fact. It would be most, most difficult to get Urko to agree to his own dismissal.”
Aboro paced nervously. It was obvious to him that the pleasant future he had painted for himself would not be achieved without a great deal of effort and danger. Aboro did not mind danger—when it was aimed at someone else. “I’m not sure I understand,” he said.
Galen heaved the sigh of an adult trying to explain something to a particularly dense child. “I will continue then in words of one syllable,” he said. “Dr. Zaius wants—no, more—expects you to provide him with the evidence he needs to discredit Urko, to dismiss the general, and, shortly thereafter, to offer Urko’s vacated position to you. This is not so much a test of your abilities, which Dr. Zaius already appreciates, as a kind of bond and pledge of your loyalty. You will understand how your actions will ally you closely to the policies of Dr. Zaius in the future. This is what he stands to gain from the transaction.”
There was a pause, while the vast ideas which Galen had communicated were absorbed by the reeling brain of Aboro and by the greedy mind of Daku. Then, patiently, Galen continued. “For instance,” he said off-handedly, “consider the possibility of incriminating Urko by discovering contraband evidence in his own home. Evidence such as illegally possessed gold. Perhaps, as a hint, the same gold that was used to bribe Dr. Zaius’ subordinates.”
Aboro nodded. The idea made much sense and was the kind of scheme to which the prefect was attracted. He had arranged similar seizures in the past, although of course on a much smaller scale. “But how would you get the gold into Urko’s home?” asked the prefect.
Galen looked at the ceiling as if expecting some kind of help from that direction. “Not I,” he said. “You. I’ve passed my examinations, many times over. It is you, Aboro, who is being given this opportunity. You will prove your loyalty to Dr. Zaius by planting the evidence yourself.”
There was another thoughtful pause. Aboro wasn’t pleased with the idea at all. There was too much personal risk. There didn’t seem to be any escape clause in case of failure. “Too risky and too unsure,” said Aboro. Then, with decision, he announced, “I have a better idea.”
Galen cocked a curious eyebrow.
“I have always favored direct action, Octavio,” said Aboro.
Galen had a fear of what was coming. He tried to hide his concern. “Direct action?” he asked.
Daku paced along behind his master. He, too, understood what Aboro was hinting at. He had been party to many of Aboro’s previous dealings. “Yes,” said Daku. “It will be much safer. Then you will truly be ‘Lord of the Apes.’ ”
Galen was still pretending that he wasn’t precisely sure what Aboro and Daku were talking about. “Just what are you suggesting?” he asked.
“Daku,” said Aboro, ignoring the false Octavio in his excitement, “who is that human you’ve used before?”
Daku thought for a moment. Although Aboro himself never directly involved himself with the details of these matters, Daku was expected to recall all the pertinent information. “Amhar,” said the lieutenant at last. “From the village of Loban.”
“A human?” asked Galen.
Daku turned to Galen with a look of mock surprise. “You wouldn’t expect us to think another ape could possibly do the job. Amhar is a professional.”
“A professional . . . what?” asked Galen.
“Killer!” cried Aboro. “Apes do not murder other apes, friend Oct
avio, even though apes may plan the removal of other apes. The actual foul deed is left to someone of the lower order.”
Galen reacted violently. This was not the way the conversation was supposed to have proceeded. “But that’s terrible!” he cried. Then, realizing that his reaction was incorrect, he recovered. “I mean,” he said more calmly, “that’s rather a more drastic solution than Dr. Zaius—”
He was cut off by Daku. “The advantage is that the solution is very permanent. There is no chance that Urko might recover his lost influence to use against the prefect at a later time.”
“Very good, Lieutenant,” said Aboro. “Daku, arrange a dinner party for Urko here tonight. We may as well get this entire charade finished as soon as possible.”
“And Amhar?” asked Daku, anxious to be certain that he understood all of Aboro’s intentions. The two gorillas stood very close together, almost completely ignoring Galen as they planned out the details of their plot.
Galen walked casually toward Aboro’s desk, where he saw a clutter of papers. Among them, though, was Aboro’s official seal. This was something that Galen realized might come in especially handy. While Daku and Aboro talked, the chimpanzee lightly picked up the official seal and slid it into his tunic without arousing any suspicion from the two plotters.
“I have a special plan,” said Aboro. “Have this Amhar—you’ll recognize him, won’t you? I’ve never seen him before—have him here an hour before Urko arrives.”
“Well,” said Galen, “this isn’t the way Dr. Zaius expected matters to be settled, but nevertheless it appears you have everything in order for General Urko’s . . . dismissal . . . or what was it you called it?”
“Removal,” said Aboro simply.
“Yes,” said Galen. “In any event, if all goes as I hope, I can safely promise a radical change in your personal situation. This is definitely assured.”
Planet of the Apes 04 - Lord of the Apes Page 6