Planet of the Apes 04 - Lord of the Apes

by George Alec Effinger

  Almost immediately, Tolar and Dalton stopped wrestling, and walked toward Irnar, their heads bowed in respect. “Prefect,” said Tolar.

  “Tolar, are you ready?” asked Irnar.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And your son?” asked the Prefect.

  “Soon.”

  “Not today?”

  “Please, sir,” said Dalton hurriedly. “Not yet.”

  Irnar glanced at the youth quizzically. “Why?”

  Dalton was uncomfortable. “I . . . don’t think I . . .”

  Tolar hurried to interject. “His stomach, sir,” he said. “His stomach is . . . not feeling good.”

  Irnar’s eyes narrowed. “I see,” he said quietly. He took a long look at Dalton. “All right. Not today.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Dalton.

  Irnar only nodded, again taking a thoughtful glance at the younger man. Then the prefect turned and walked away. Galen, still puzzled by all of this, glanced from Tolar to Dalton to Irnar; then he hurried to catch up to the prefect. As the chimpanzees left, Tolar, tense with suppressed anger at his son, came up beside Dalton.

  “When will you stop disgracing me?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, Father,” said Dalton, confused. “I . . . don’t think . . . I like the games.”

  Tolar grew angrier. “The games are not to like!” he shouted. “They are to do!”

  Irnar and Galen approached the entrance to the amphitheater. There was no one else around; the villagers had all taken their places inside. “The father is a fine human,” said Irnar reflectively, “but the son seems to be a problem. He doesn’t have the proper appreciation for the games.”

  “What are these games?” asked Galen.

  Irnar, with his customary concentration on his own thoughts, ignored Galen’s question. “His attitude will change,” said the prefect. “It will change with his first kill.”

  “ ‘First kill’?” echoed Galen. “What are these games?”

  Irnar gestured. “This way. Follow me.”

  Galen glanced briefly at Irnar, then entered the amphitheater, more worried than ever. As he entered the stone building, not knowing what to expect, he paused, startled as he looked around.

  He saw the bare ground of an arena and then the rough-hewn rock benches that surrounded the arena, benches on which all the villagers were seated and waiting eagerly and anxiously. Galen, vaguely troubled, looked at the assembled humans.

  Irnar turned and came back to where Galen had paused, wearing a smug smile. “I said you’d find it interesting,” said Irnar.

  After another few seconds, Irnar led Galen to the Prefect’s Box in the amphitheater, which was situated directly opposite the entrance. Galen looked around him with concern and interest. The humans buzzed with excitement, but the young chimpanzee could sense that the energy was only barely controlled.

  Men, women, and children surrounded Galen. All seemed very tense and full of anxiety; they sat murmuring to each other. Every once in a while an impatient human would shout, “Come on!” It occurred to Galen that never before in his life had he been in the midst of so many humans in so close an area. His sensitive nostrils were filled with their vaguely unpleasant odors. He felt oddly fearful. “They seem so tense,” murmured Galen.

  Irnar was pleased to see that Galen seemed suitably impressed by the spectacle. The sight of a stone amphitheater in a village as remote as Kaymak was a wonder in its own right. “They’re waiting for blood,” said Irnar. “It’s their nature. Human nature.”

  “Not all humans,” said Galen, shaking his head.

  “All humans,” said Irnar in his lecturing voice. “And I give it to them here, in the arena, normally, with a challenger from the village. They work off all their aggression here. And after the game, they live quietly and peacefully—until the next game.” He smiled. “That’s the secret, my young friend. All the human hostility in my village is used up right here. Nowhere else.”

  There came a final note from the herald’s ram’s horn.

  “It’s time for me to go through the usual nonsense,” said Irnar, sighing. “But they seem to expect it. And it does seem to help.” Irnar rose from his seat, raising his arm high above his head. The villagers in the amphitheater fell silent when they saw the prefect standing in the Prefect’s Box, his arm raised for their attention. “Welcome to your games, humans of Kaymak!” cried Irnar. “Welcome to your hero, the greatest fighter of Kaymak! Welcome to Tolar!”

  As if on cue, Tolar strode proudly into the amphitheater. His fellow villagers went wild with their welcome. They shouted, jumping to their feet. They screamed Tolar’s name. They clapped and whistled. Tolar was, indeed, their hero. He was the very personification of what little remained of human dignity and pride.

  Some distance away, in the cage, Virdon moved closer to the bars, his curiosity and anxiety piqued by the distant screams of the crowd.

  Tolar strode directly to a point below the Prefect’s Box, bowing his head to his village’s master. Irnar produced a ceremonial sword and held it high above his head in a ritual gesture. “All honor to the man who will challenge death,” said Irnar in a loud voice.

  Once again, the crowd screamed its approval. Irnar had worked out the mechanics of the pageant on his own; he had found exactly the right psychological triggers for his own purposes. He knew how to use them well. He brought the sword down suddenly, and the screams stopped. “Bring in the opponent!” shouted Irnar.

  Four gorillas marched in, surrounding Burke. This time, the reaction of the humans was vastly different than it was to Tolar. They rose to their feet again, yelling insults, threats, and imprecations. Galen watched Burke, totally dismayed. Burke was marched to a position directly beside Tolar, below the Prefect’s Box. The gorillas then departed. When they reached the entrance, they split into two pairs. Two of the gorillas stood guard by the entrance. The other two mounted into the stands, crossing toward the Prefect’s Box. En route, they passed Dalton, who sat in the stands, watching impassively. While all around him people were standing and booing Burke, Dalton sat ignoring the tumult.

  Burke and Tolar stood before the Prefect’s Box, neither having moved at all. Tolar stood proud and straight. Burke was puzzled, still wondering what everything was all about. He had not been told.

  Irnar raised the sword again. The shouts and catcalls stopped. There was dead silence. “The game will begin!” he cried. “To the winner . . . life! To the loser . . . death!” On the word “death,” he brought the sword down sharply.

  In that instant, the amphitheater fairly rocked with the mad screams of the villagers.

  In that instant, Tolar suddenly whirled on Burke, who had just caught an inkling of what was happening. “Hey!” he cried to Tolar, recalling the uneven fight in the clearing. “Now wait a minute!”

  Tolar jumped for him and knocked him down instantly. The crowd sighed, a slight disappointment that the match would be ended so quickly. But there the fight just began. Realizing that he was fighting for his life, Burke tried nevertheless to stay on the defensive. In the clearing, neither he nor Virdon had wanted to kill. Both astronauts had been well-trained in many sophisticated forms of hand-to-hand combat that would have defeated several antagonists like Tolar simultaneously and fatally. Now in the arena, Burke still had no desire to kill. The decision to stay on the defensive could cost him his life, he realized after a short while. Tolar was much bigger and stronger, with greater endurance and stamina. Burke could keep Tolar from getting a final advantage, at least for a while. But, sooner or later, Burke would tire. And then his reflexes would slow and he would make a mistake. Just one mistake. That would be all that Tolar would need.

  The action in the arena was fast, desperate, and exciting, although Burke’s tactics and methods looked strange to the villagers. They shouted encouragement to Tolar. Dalton watched tensely. Galen was worried to the point of distraction, but helpless. Irnar was evidently bored, judging by his frequent yawns. “They’re like c
hildren, aren’t they?” he asked Galen.

  Tolar jumped at Burke, fully confident now. Burke sidestepped agilely and chopped down with the side of his hand, hitting Tolar just behind the ear. This was a move completely unknown in the ape world. It was something Tolar could not be prepared for; all of his previous opponents had simply tried to wrestle. Burke’s karate blow sent Tolar spinning into the dust. Tolar lay stunned. Burke stood waiting.

  The reaction of the villagers was stunned amazement. Never before had Tolar been even close to defeat. It had been dozens of games since any opponent had even sent Tolar sprawling, as Burke had done. All at once, the crowd found its voice and directed another volley of insults at Burke.

  Tolar got to his feet and charged again. It was a clumsy run, motivated by the huge wrestler’s desire to recoup his image of being undefeatable. He wanted to crush Burke in one powerful lunge. Again, nimbly, the astronaut moved to the side, like a bullfighter performing a veronica, and clubbed Tolar on the side of the head. Tolar went down again, shaking his head. He panted, resting on one knee in the dry dust of the arena. Twice more Tolar charged, and twice more Burke made the champion look almost foolish, so easily did he send Tolar crashing to the ground. The charges came ever more slowly, as Tolar grew wary and just a bit frightened. Burke, too, was frightened; he knew his own limits, and he wondered if he could wear Tolar down before the exertion of the battle wore him down.

  The spectators, as fickle as any crowd ever was, began to change in response to the fighting of Burke, which looked to the people of Kaymak crazy but effective. A few voices cheered when Tolar was knocked down for the third time, and a great many more shouted their approval on the fourth knockdown. The humans wanted and demanded a hero and a champion; it was becoming clear to the combatants that the man didn’t necessarily have to be Tolar.

  Dalton, sitting among them, was aware of this, also. He watched in almost unbearable tension. He had never seen his father treated like this in the arena. His aversion to the games was overcome by his concern for his father.

  Irnar watched, also concerned for his champion. He wondered how it would affect his village to have the long-time hero defeated by a common thief and criminal. As he watched, Tolar struggled to his feet, circled around Burke, and tried to grab hold of the astronaut. Burke placed one foot behind Tolar’s right foot and gave a quick shove with his shoulder. Tolar fell heavily to the ground, not badly hurt but deeply humiliated. He sat in the dirt and looked up at Burke, desperation on his face.

  The main street of Kaymak was deserted as Jason and his troopers rode into town. The roaring of the crowd in the amphitheater filled the air, but for the moment Jason ignored it. He pulled to a halt outside the prefect’s house, noting the flagpole and the signal pennant which flew from it. Jason told his soldiers to wait while he himself dismounted and glanced around, puzzled by the emptiness of the town and by the screams coming from the amphitheater, which he now listened to curiously. He shook his head; another outlying village, another town full of mad apes and crazier humans. He strode up to the door of Irnar’s house and knocked. There was no reply. He opened the door and entered.

  The main room was empty. “Irnar!” called Jason. “Prefect Irnar!” He was answered only by silence and the muffled sound from the arena. With an expression of displeasure, Jason turned and left the house.

  As Jason emerged from Irnar’s home, he glanced around again, puzzled and increasingly annoyed. There was another roar from the amphitheater. Coming to a quick decision, Jason strode off in that direction.

  Tolar was in very bad shape, shaky and bleeding from cuts over his eyes. Burke kept backing away from him, not wanting to hurt Tolar any further, but Tolar refused to give up—of course, to do so meant death, but there was a look in Tolar’s eyes which said that surrender meant far worse things to him than death. He forced the fight to Burke, and the astronaut had no choice but to send Tolar down again. This time, Tolar did not move at all.

  The villagers watched, suddenly silent once more. Then, from various parts of the amphitheater, voices cried out, “Throw the sword! Throw the sword! Throw the sword!” Over and over this was repeated; more and more people took up the cry.

  Virdon could hear the roaring; the longer it lasted, the more uncomfortable he grew. “What’s happening?” he demanded of the gorilla guard. He might have asked the inanimate stones in the ground, for all the response he got.

  Galen watched, not sure if Burke’s seeming victory were much better for their situation than a defeat. Irnar lifted the sword and threw it out into the arena. The crowd screamed. “It’s not how I would have had it,” said Irnar to Galen, “but it may all work out for the best.”

  The crowd took up a different chant now. “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” echoed in the arena as the humans stood, screaming insanely and waving clenched fists. Burke stood over the inert body of Tolar; the sword fell at his feet and, almost instinctively, he bent down to pick it up.

  Tolar opened his eyes weakly, looking up at Burke, There was frustration and humiliation on his face, but not fear. Burke stared down at him, holding the sword. They regarded each other, oblivious of the pandemonium around them. Burke did not move.

  The frenzy of the villagers grew. “Kill him! Kill him!” they screamed, while the eagerly awaited climax to the game was delayed by Burke’s hesitation. This was the moment they had come to see. It did not matter to them whether Burke killed Tolar or the other way around; it was as Irnar had said: they had come to see blood. Dalton was the only spectator still sitting, except for Galen and Irnar. The youth remained quiet, surrounded by the shouting people, his vision cut off by their standing bodies.

  While this scene formed, Jason entered the amphitheater. He was stopped momentarily by the two gorilla guards at the entrance, but, with a curt and contemptuous glance, he silenced them. The villagers were making so much noise that his questions had to be shouted. The guards shouted an answer and pointed in the direction of the Prefect’s Box. Jason followed their gaze and saw Irnar. He did not acknowledge the directions from the gorillas—after all, they were rural police, inferior in all ways to his own troopers from Central City—but headed into the stands and around the amphitheater toward Irnar.

  The villagers’ emotion mounted further as they screamed for the kill. Burke, suddenly understanding what he was expected to do, turned away and threw the sword to the ground. The villagers were momentarily appalled; then they shouted their anger and rage at Burke. The insults they had hurled at him before were remembered and amplified. Dalton watched, too stunned and afraid to stand, unable to see the action, only partially aware of what was happening. He tried to understand the change in their screams. While all of this was happening, Jason was making his way slowly through the furious crowd, clubbing his way among the uncaring humans, whose attention was focused on the two men in the arena.

  “I don’t understand,” murmured Irnar. He was fascinated by Burke’s reaction. Galen was about to reply when some commotion nearby attracted his attention. He looked off to one side; he was not certain of what he saw through the mass of people there. He squinted his eyes just a little and waited. A second or two later he was sure. He saw the uniformed gorilla moving through the crowd. Galen was stunned by what he saw; Jason was well-known to him. General Urko’s chief aide was well-known to almost every ape in the empire. And, Galen knew surely, he himself would be well-known to Jason.

  The villagers screams were even louder, although that seemed scarcely possible to the suddenly frightened Galen. As he watched, the humans began moving down through the stands, into the clear central area of the arena. It appeared that a riot was about to begin.

  “No!” cried Irnar, worried. He waved to the gorillas that stood to either side of his box. “No! Stop them! Stop them!” The gorillas moved forward to follow the order.

  As the villagers swept down toward the arena, Jason had more difficulty getting to the Prefect’s Box. He pushed and clubbed with his fists, but it was al
l he could do to prevent himself from being carried along with them.

  Galen took the opportunity to slip away from the Prefect’s Box. He saw that Jason was momentarily blocked and Irnar’s attention was elsewhere. Galen moved away from Jason, down toward the arena and the crowd.

  Dalton stood now, unable to maintain his tense paralysis any longer. The crowd swept around him. He was completely fascinated by what was happening; he felt an unpleasant sense of disgust.

  Burke and Tolar both were menaced by the approaching crowd, Tolar for his defeat, Burke for his refusal to carry out the execution. The humans still chanted, “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” Burke, almost hypnotized by the chant, fearful that he might at any second be torn apart by the mob, stooped to pick up the sword. His expression was slightly dazed.

  Galen pushed through the crowd and reached Burke’s side. “Galen!” cried Burke.

  “No time!” answered the chimpanzee. “Urko’s lieutenant is up there! He’ll recognize us!”

  Burke looked up toward the Prefect’s Box. Jason was talking urgently with Irnar, whose expression was startled, then angry. They both started to make their way down toward the arena. “Come on, then!” shouted Burke over the screaming mob. He and Galen tried to push their way through, Burke in the lead. He used the sword threateningly, almost cutting a way forward. Meanwhile, the gorillas were trying to rush people out of the arena, shoving them toward the entrance. “Out!” cried one gorilla, brandishing his rifle. “Everybody out!” He fired the rifle into the air. Near him, humans, frightened by this threat, hurried to comply with the ape’s direction. A stream of villagers started pouring out of the amphitheater. The gorilla moved away to help channel the remainder of the humans. Burke and Galen slipped by him as he turned. Another gorilla started toward Burke; the astronaut hurled the sword at the ape. While the gorilla ducked, Burke and Galen hurried out of the arena among the other townspeople.