Almost instinctively, Virdon moved as though he were going to rush out and recover the disk. Galen reached out quickly and grabbed Virdon’s arm. With a crestfallen expression, Virdon, usually so cautious, realized that he couldn’t move. He could only watch, his expression tense.
Irnar put the disk into his pocket, mounted his horse, and, with a few final farewell words to the giant humans, rode off along the trail, out of sight. Tolar and Dalton followed on foot. Burke, Virdon, and Galen watched in unhappy silence.
Less than a minute later, Virdon slammed his fist into the layer of dead leaves on the ground. “I’ve got to get it,” he said.
Burke said nothing for a short time. His thoughts ran through several different emotions before he replied. His answer was simple. “You’re not serious,” he said.
Virdon, very clearly, was serious. “You know how I feel,” he said. “I’m getting it back, Pete. I don’t know how, but I’m not leaving without it. I don’t care about the danger. We don’t have a chance without that disk. You two can go on without me, if you want. We can meet somewhere away from here.”
Burke was clearly frustrated. “Don’t talk nonsense, Alan,” he said. “We’ll either stay together or leave together. None of this splitting up. But we have to talk this out, first. I mean, what difference does it make? Even if we found a civilization that was able to interpret that disk, somebody would still have to be able to build a spacecraft, they’d have to guarantee that the reversal process would work—something that’s only your pet theory, up until this point, Alan—and even then, we’d end up back in the twentieth century again.” He said this last as though there was nothing in the twentieth century that made it any more attractive than where he was. “Do you think we’ll ever find a tiny pocket of humans who have hung onto all the facilities we had? I mean, a Houston control, and a Florida launch site, and a worldwide network of tracking stations, and all the rest? We’d need all that, don’t you think?”
“I’m aware of all of that, Pete,” said Virdon, obviously not willing to pay proper attention to the logic of Burke’s arguments. “But it’s all beside the point.”
“I don’t think so, Alan,” said Burke angrily. “I think it is the point. But I’m not going to persuade you.”
“Alan,” said Galen, “as much as I understand how you want to return to your own time, I can’t figure why you want to walk into this unknown risk. We don’t have any idea what we’re going to meet here.”
“I can’t just forget about that disk,” said Virdon. “It’s hope . . . home. I can’t forget it.”
There was a crude hut standing along a dusty country road. Behind the human habitation were a few fields, some filled with brown husks of the summer’s corn crop. Near the hut was a well. The human farmer was drawing up a wooden bucket from the well. A horse stood a few yards from the well; on its back sat Jason, the lieutenant of General Urko. The human filled a dipper from the bucket and handed it up to Jason. “Very few soldiers come this way, sir,” he said.
Jason ignored the human’s remark. “How far to the nearest village?” he asked, reaching down and taking the dipper. He drank from it.
“Half a day,” said the human. He looked up at the sun, getting an idea of the hour. “You should be there by morning.”
Jason finished drinking the water and tossed the dipper to the ground disdainfully. Without acknowledging the human’s directions or aid, Jason turned his horse and rode off, joining his troopers who waited on the road. The human glared after him with annoyance, picked up the dipper, and wiped it clean on his rough shirt.
It was night. A gibbous moon cast stark shadows on the uneven ground outside the village of Kaymak. The village itself was mostly dark, its business of the day completed, its human inhabitants too poor and too weary to continue any entertainment much later than sundown. A few lights shone, but these came chiefly from the barracks of the gorilla garrison and the homes of the few ape inhabitants. At the edge of the village, where the main road became a narrow country track, there stood a large structure built of stone, instead of the more common rough-cut logs. In the darkness, it was impossible to tell what might lie within those damp stone walls.
Three figures ran quickly across the ground from the road to the shadow of the stone structure. Virdon, Burke, and Galen pressed themselves against the solid rock walls; the three were invisible to any eyes that might be turned in their direction. They held still for a full minute, surveying the area. Virdon gave a signal to the other two and they hurried away again.
They ran as fast as they could, Virdon in the lead, followed by Burke and then Galen, until they reached the safety of the shadow of the first of the village’s huts. They pulled up there, breathing hard from their exertion.
About twenty yards away stood a corral where the horses belonging to the gorilla garrison were kept. A gorilla, rifle in hand, stood guard at the corral’s gate. He yawned, clearly sleepy and bored. The horses whinnied nervously in the corral and the gorilla jerked upright, alert once again. He looked around in all directions, but he saw nothing; he leaned against the gate and yawned again. The two astronauts and Galen peered from behind the corner of the hut around which they had hurried at the sound of the anxious horses. Galen indicated the gorilla guard, then pointed up the road toward a well-lit house. “That gorilla is the only trouble I see,” whispered the chimpanzee.
“Yeah,” whispered Burke, “but he’s enough for now.”
While they watched, the gorilla turned completely around, resting his rifle on the ground, his two arms on the top wooden rail of the corral’s gate, and his head on his arms. If General Urko had seen that gorilla, the unfortunate trooper would have been dead before he could scoop his rifle up again.
Galen, Virdon, and Burke took advantage of the guard’s inattention to slip down the road and hide near the lighted building that had attracted Galen’s interest. In front of the hut was a flagpole; the trio could see a pennant with some insignia sewn on it flying from the pole; it was illuminated by light coming from the open windows of the hut.
“That’s a prefect’s house,” said Galen, indicating the insignia on the pennant. “That chimpanzee we saw talking to the two humans was wearing the same emblem. This is his house.”
“You’re sure?” asked Virdon.
“Alan,” said Galen impatiently, “every once in a while—rarely, I admit, but every once in a while—I can contribute something to the success of our journeys. Sometimes we come up against things that I know about even better then you. I was born here, remember?”
“I’m sorry, Galen, I really am,” said Virdon softly.
“All right, Alan,” said Galen. “I understand. Wait for me here.”
“Listen, Galen,” said Virdon. “Wait a minute. There’s no reason for you to risk your safety on my crazy account. The disk doesn’t mean a thing to you. Let me go get it.”
“Do you have a plan?” asked Galen. “Or are you just going to walk into a strange prefect’s house in the middle of the night and ask for it?”
Virdon began to reply, then fell silent. “No,” he said finally, “I don’t have a plan.”
“Then let me go,” said Galen. “The disk is important to you. You’re my friend.”
“I know that, Galen, and I appreciate it. But still, I can’t ask you to endanger yourself for me.”
“I never heard you ask,” said Galen. “That prefect is a member of my species, Alan. I’ll have a better chance with him alone.”
Burke had followed the conversation with great interest. He, too, had wondered what they were going to do when they reached the village. He had hoped that Virdon had formed a more definite scheme; he was disappointed to learn that this wasn’t the case. “He’s right, Alan,” said Burke. “But I don’t think it’s worth the risk. Do you have a plan, Galen?”
“No,” said the ape. “But I don’t really need one. I can travel with complete freedom, as long as my true identity is a secret. I can just drop in to the pre
fect’s office, say hello, tell him that I’m passing through, and maybe learn a little. It all doesn’t have to be done tonight, even though that would be best.”
“Galen, it’s impossible to argue with you,” said Burke.
“Would you do it for me,” asked Galen. He turned to Virdon. “I’ll get your disk.”
Galen stepped out into the road and walked to the front door of the prefect’s house. He knocked boldly on the smoothed timber of the door. After a moment, the door was opened by Irnar. “Yes?” he said.
“Good evening,” said Galen. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I have a small problem, and I thought you were the proper ape to notify.”
Irnar’s brow furrowed in a frown. “Yes, yes, of course. Come in,” he said, and Galen followed the prefect into the house. The door shut behind them.
Burke and Virdon watched all of this anxiously. After they saw the door close, they both let out deep sighs, neither of them until then realizing that they had been holding their breath. “Keep your fingers crossed,” said Burke.
The horses in the corral whinnied, somehow still aware of the disturbing influence of Virdon and Burke nearby. Virdon glanced in that direction. “Horses,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe we shouldn’t just be hanging around here, doing nothing. We could be putting ourselves to work, too. If Galen gets in trouble and this thing blows up in our faces, we’ll all have to get out of here fast.”
“I’m glad you still have that devious mind of yours working,” said Burke, nodding. They both headed back toward the corral.
The interior of Irnar’s office was a combination work space and living room equipped with a desk, bookshelves with a few large books, and a locked cabinet, as well as a few chairs and a number of plants and flowers in odd, handcrafted pots. Irnar sat in a chair behind his desk. He had been listening to Galen’s story, and he looked at the young chimpanzee quizzically. “You say you were thrown by a horse?” he asked. “Where?”
“Out there, somewhere,” said Galen, pointing off in a vague direction. “I’ve been walking for miles. Believe me, I was absolutely delighted when I saw your village.”
Irnar still studied Galen with a hint of suspicion. “And what were you doing on that horse? ‘Out there’ . . .”
“I’m engaged in scientific exploration,” said Galen smoothly, falling into another role, a task at which he was becoming very skilled. “I’m searching for artifacts of past civilizations.”
Irnar grimaced. “Don’t we have enough trouble coping with our own?” he said dryly.
“I wasn’t exactly sure that we had one,” said Galen.
Irnar glanced at him; his eyes narrowed for a second. Then, suddenly, to Galen’s great relief, the prefect burst into laughter.
“I think I’m going to like you, young chimp,” said Irnar. “Yes, I think I’m going to like you very much, indeed. Would you care for something to drink? You must be thirsty after your long walk.”
“Yes,” said Galen, “thank you.”
“Fine,” said Irnar. “And I think I will join you.” He stood up from behind his desk and went to a wooden cupboard. On a shelf built into the upper part of the cupboard was a collection of bottles and glasses. Irnar searched among the bottles, looking for one in particular. “You know,” he said, his back turned to Galen, “it can be a rather isolated and lonely life here.”
Galen nodded, not thinking that Irnar could not see the nod. He did not answer. He was already looking around the room, searching out the prefect’s personal effects, separating them from Irnar’s official belongings. Galen wondered whether Irnar would be more likely to keep the disk with the personal or the official. Then, something directly in front of him attracted his attention. Galen shifted slightly in his seat and looked around a stack of papers. There, only a few feet from him, was the disk, on Irnar’s desktop.
Irnar’s voice continued, as he clinked a couple of glasses and unstoppered the bottle he had been seeking. “This is just a village of humans, after all,” he said sadly. Once again, Galen only nodded, his whole concentration on the disk. “A small garrison of gorillas,” said Irnar, finishing his pouring. “But what company are a dozen gorillas?” he asked.
Galen couldn’t take his eyes from the disk. He didn’t dare do anything to attract Irnar’s attention; if he were caught trying to swipe the disk, it might permanently ruin any attempt to get it back and lead to the fugitives’ recapture. Galen knew that he had to play this coolly.
Irnar turned around again, carrying the drinks back to the desk. Galen’s eyes were still on the disk. The prefect kept up his complaint. “You know how crude and uneducated gorillas are. Oh, I have nothing against them, actually. But, truthfully, they have no understanding of beauty or culture.” His voice was full of distaste. “Oh, just a moment,” said Irnar. “I have something that will go well with these drinks.”
The prefect bent down and opened a lower drawer. While he was occupied, Galen shrugged and almost gave in to the temptation. He reached out slowly to pick up the disk. As his hand neared the object, Iraar rose again, bringing with him a box of dried fruit. “I almost forgot I had these,” he said, putting the box on the desk. Galen drew his arm back quickly, unnoticed.
“Do you know,” said Irnar, “I’ve been prefect of this village for twenty-five years? Would you believe that? Twenty-five years, and this dusty town of Kaymak is all I have to show for it. I used to hope for a promotion to District Prefect, but I’ve long since given up that dream. Here, have a drink and some fruit.”
“Thank you,” said Galen, his eyes fastened on the disk.
“Were you traveling alone?” asked Irnar.
“Yes,” said Galen, after a brief hesitation.
“Twenty-five years,” said Irnar musingly. “It’s been that long since I was your age.” He raised his glass. “To companionship,” he said.
Galen would have liked nothing better than to grab the disk and flee the office, but he knew that was impossible. Instead, he raised his glass in a toast.
Virdon and Burke moved swiftly along the side of a building, coming to the corner from which they could watch the corral. They looked toward it. Nothing had changed there. The gorilla guard still napped with his back toward them.
“Whew,” said Burke softly. “Are you ready, Alan?”
“Just a second,” said Virdon. He reached down and picked up a length of wood that he could use as a club. “I am now,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“There is little enough to keep me amused,” said Irnar. “Intellectual stimulation, that’s what is chiefly lacking this far from Central City.” He indicated a rather crude painting that hung on one wall. A flickering lamp nearby made moving shadows over it, so that it took on strange, almost surreal qualities. Galen saw that it was a portrait of Irnar. “Rather nice, isn’t it?” asked Irnar. “One of the humans did it, if you can believe that. Some of them are surprisingly talented. Even artistic, although none of them comes close to what the sophisticated apes in Central City create.”
Galen’s mind was on the disk, and he spent little time examing the portrait. “A human painted this, you say? How interesting.”
Irnar poured himself another drink and walked up to the painting. Galen’s eyes flashed back to the disk. Once again he was stopped before he could take it; Irnar laughed softly, turned again, and sat back down behind his desk. “As a matter of fact,” said the prefect, “I have a theory.” To Galen’s horror, the older chimpanzee idly picked up the disk and swung it on its leather cord. “Put fifty humans in a room,” said Irnar. “Give them all pots of paint and brashes. Give them enough time—oh, years and years, of course—and eventually they’ll duplicate every masterpiece that has ever been painted.” He laughed again at the wild idea he had just expressed. Irnar seemed to enjoy his own sense of humor greatly.
“What is that?” asked Galen.
The prefect tossed the disk into the air and caught it. He looked at it for several seconds, then grunted. “I found
this only recently. I wonder if this could be one of those artifacts you’re looking for.”
Galen tried not to appear too eager. “I don’t know,” he said in a carefully controlled voice. “I’d have to examine it, possibly give it a few tests.”
Irnar looked at it closely again, tossed it into the air, and caught it. “No,” he said, “I don’t think it’s an artifact. It’s much too new. If it belonged to an ancient civilization, it would be all corroded. And I found it lying in the grass near here. I’ve picked up genuine artifacts over the years. Some of them are fascinating.”
Galen was almost hypnotized by Irnar’s disk-tossing. “Are you a collector?” he asked.
“Only an amateur,” said Irnar. “One finds strange things. For example, our ancestors must have been excellent metal-workers. Very advanced in some ways that have been lost to us. And yet, the use to which they put their talents was primitive. I have a weapon I found, evidently a war club. Beautiful workmanship, but the thing would be so inefficient in combat.” Irnar stood and went to the cabinet, holding the disk in one hand. Galen was almost going out of his mind with frustration. The prefect opened one of the doors in the lower part of the cupboard. He reached in and brought out a battered golf club. He carried the ancient artifact back to his desk and passed it over to Galen for the young ape’s inspection.
“Hmm,” said Galen. “I’ve never seen anything quite like this.” The metal of the golf club was pitted with age. To Galen’s more knowledgable eye, the thing was clearly of human manufacture, from the time of Virdon and Burke, rather than from any of the apes’ ancestors. Galen had as little idea of what the golf club could have been used for as Irnar had.
“The quality of that metal is higher than anything we could produce today,” said Irnar. “A lost art. Interesting. But I dare venture to surmise that it was a pitifully inadequate weapon.”
“Yes,” said Galen, “it is interesting.” He handed the golf club back to Irnar. “That disk you’re holding seems to be made of the same material. May I see it?” Galen extended his hand across the desk.
Planet of the Apes 04 - Lord of the Apes Page 11