Planet of the Apes Omnibus 4

by William Arrow

  * * *

  The wagon, cage’s wheel bumped over a rock and Bill was thrown against the legs of several of the humanoids. He gasped with pain, moaning slightly, and the humanoids pulled away from him. The astronaut’s arm then flopped out against the floor and he struck his head painfully.

  He moaned again, more loudly this time, and his eyes fluttered. “Ohhh… What happened? Ohh…”

  The humanoids, round-eyed with fear and incomprehension, clutched at themselves, trying to get as far away as possible from this strange and unnatural thing in their midst. They watched fearfully as Bill rolled on the bouncing floor, all motor control gone as an effect of the simians’ knockout gas. He groaned, his eyes opened and closed several times, and his mouth worked weakly.

  “Jeff? Jeff? Where are you…?”

  The ragged humanoids continued to cower in fear, and their lips trembled as they heard him speak. They tugged at each other’s primitive hide clothing and gave fearful glances over their shoulders at the gorilla guards riding in the vehicles before and behind them.

  Bill continued to mumble, the words blurred and indistinct in his semi-delirious state.

  Finally, the wagon cages lurched to a stop and the engines of the vehicles that pulled them died down. The humanoids peered out fearfully through the stout wooden bars of their mobile prisons and saw the hairy black soldiers getting down from their army vehicles to stretch their limbs gratefully. Nearby, a burly black-haired guard reached beneath his polished black leather chestplate to scratch; then quickly and guiltily he pulled his hand out to stand stiffly at attention as General Urko’s vehicle rolled back from the head of the column.

  The commander’s jeep came to a halt next to the wagon cage in which Bill lay semi-conscious.

  “Rest a moment,” Urko said to his driver and the officer with him.

  They got out, bent their backs in pleasure, and took a few stiff steps around the jeep. The driver pulled a bit of dried food from a sack beneath his seat and gnawed on it reflectively as his eyes scanned the surrounding forest. One of the nearby guards sauntered over and was given a bit of the dried ration.

  General Urko and his aide-de-camp walked around to stand by the wagon cage and drink from a canteen. They ignored the imploring eyes of the thirsty humanoids. Urko took a long draught and handed the canteen to his underling. The general, in his polished leather armor, laughed arrogantly at the captive humanoids. Too good for them, he thought. This made him laugh, and his cruel bellow partially awakened Bill.

  The dazed astronaut moaned, coughed hollowly, and started to speak. “Ohhh… Jeff… where—”

  An old humanoid, terrified that Urko or any of the other gorillas might hear, threw himself over Bill, clasping a dirty hand over his mouth, silencing him roughly. Several of the humanoids shuffled about, their bodies twitching nervously and their eyes fearful.

  But Urko had not heard Bill speak. The armored commander looked at the captives with contempt, his black brows knitting in anger. He gave a snarling laugh, and snorted, “Look at the beasts!” When his gloved fist struck a bar of their cage, the ragged humanoids cowered back; the gorilla leader laughed again in cruel amusement. “Their capture was so easy it wasn’t even a contest!” he gloated.

  The burly, helmeted chieftain of the Gorilla Army came close to the cage and peered within. He did not see the old humanoid’s hand across Bill’s mouth, or his scabbed knee on the Earthman’s chest. Urko rattled the cage, his rough laugh stirring up the captives once more.

  “Waiting for us like sitting ducks! How stupid!” He gave the bars of the cage a final blow and lumbered over to get back into his jeep.

  Glancing toward the captives’ cages, his thick lips twisted in a vicious smile. “Well, at least they’ll give us a fresh supply of moving targets for our war games.” He signaled to his aide-de-camp, who stood up in the jeep and waved toward the front of the caravan. “Move out!”

  With a lurch, the wagon cages started forward again.

  The aged humanoid released Bill’s mouth and sat back, his baggy eyes yet afraid, but now he was fearful of what the stranger might do. All of the captive humanoids stared at Bill as he rolled limply on the rough wooden floor. They looked at each other, then again at the Earthman, fearful of what pain and misfortune this unnatural creature might bring to them. They knew it would be nothing good.

  One of the stronger-appearing prisoners fingered a long splinter in the rough planking of the floor. His strong fingers pried at it, splitting it away from the battered planking with a crunch. He held it, a rough dagger of splintered wood, and looked at the artery pulsing in Bill’s exposed throat. Dimly his mind wondered if it might not be better to simply get rid of this strange invader who looked so much like them all, yet acted so dangerously different.

  The old man saw what the younger one intended, and his hand reached out, the broken fingernails biting into the sinewy forearm of the dagger wielder. He pushed down on the arm and his old eyes met the young man’s.

  The fist opened and the wooden weapon fell to the floor. Another captive kicked it out through the bars into the dusty road, where it was crushed beneath the wheels of a gorilla truck.

  The old man’s eyes returned once again to Bill’s face. He sighed, holding on to the bars of the cage as it jarred over the road. He wondered if he had made a mistake, and knew he might be dead before he found out.

  * * *

  A festive air permeated the central square of Ape City. It was filled with the three classes of simian citizenry—each in its distinctive clothing and keeping mostly to itself. All were eagerly awaiting the triumphant return of General Urko, his army, and the harvest of captive humanoids.

  Sellers of sweets and cool drinks passed through the excited crowd, hawking their wares. Cheerful ape-children ran about playing the animated game of “Humanoids and Apes,” their piercing cries and imitation bellows annoying or amusing their elders.

  Although the various classes mixed freely, they were always keenly aware of each other’s presence.

  The hulking, black-furred gorillas were the largest. The members of the skeleton cadre that had been left behind to garrison Ape City wore the traditional dark green uniforms with black leather trim. The officers wore fancier versions, with carved chestplates or breastplates of linked metal and leather, and black helmets of hard leather that extended down over their necks.

  A few gorillas were mounted on horses, arrogant and callous, with rifles in scabbards hanging at the sides of their heavy saddles, as well as ropes for lassoing runaway humanoids. They talked in low guttural voices to each other, making comments on the other two classes of apes, whom they considered parasitical and all but useless, except as servants.

  The chimpanzees were, of course, smaller, more slender in build, and swifter in gestures and motion than their burly cousins. The clothing also indicated their class: dark green tunics and leather “bibs” above tighter-fitting green leggings. A few of the specialists wore brown or blue, but none of the colors were bright. As with their gorilla cousins, the chimpanzees had designs carved into their leather garments. Some of the design indicated ancestry; some, status; and some, their field of endeavor.

  The chimpanzees believed they were as intelligent as the highest class, the orangutan, but rarely voiced such thoughts aloud, and certainly never to the ruling class of golden-furred apes. The chimpanzees knew they were more intelligent than the brutish gorillas, but the physical prowess of the hairy cousins frightened the rather nervous chimps and they knew all too well the awesome strength that the gorillas had.

  Dim and secret myths among the chimpanzees—handed down by word of mouth and never set to paper—told of terrible massacres by the brutal gorillas. One such myth dealt with an uprising of chimpanzees against an oppressive rule by gorillas, who had cowed the orangutan leaders in a time of weakness. Another myth was of a similar power struggle, a “night of terror” when the swords of primitive gorillas had run red with blood and when dead chimpanzees
littered the streets of Ape City far back in the prehistoric times before the apes had organized.

  Yet another myth—always said to be myth, but believed in devoutly by every chimpanzee in his heart of hearts—was a time when the gorillas were strong but had not achieved unity and power, and when everyone lived in peace, tending to his business, when the humanoids were tame and the crops grew easily. But every chimpanzee really knew it was a myth, for times had always been as they were now. They had always lived in fear of the gorillas, always lived in a kind of fear about the world around them, always enslaved the humanoid beasts. Nevertheless, they wanted to believe the myth, so they believed.

  The orangutans were the leaders, and the most distinguished of this ruling class met as a Council of Elders. They were smaller, wider, and more delicate that the more active chimpanzees, and unlike the chimps and gorillas—who were dark of fur—the orangutans were golden yellow, yellow-orange, light brown, and even sometimes white. They walked with the rolling gait of a chimpanzee but spoke with the wisdom of the ages. In them was accumulated all the ape wisdom of the centuries, and the Elders studied this accumulated information continuously. More powerful than the Ape Senate, which had delegates from all three classes of apes and met often, the Elders delegated to each class and to the divisions within that class the work plans, the division of labor, and whatever punishments or reprimands that seemed necessary.

  It was the orangutans alone who kept the gorillas from taking over all of Apedom. History had shown that only the orangutans—sitting between the intelligent, adventurous, curious but often impetuous chimpanzees and the brutal, arrogant, and selfish gorillas—could keep the Ape World safe and on a progressive track. Even the gorillas conceded this from time to time, when reminded of their blunders and stupid acts. But the gorillas nevertheless resented the rule of the orangutans, hated the flighty chimpanzees, and saw themselves as the true rulers of the simian society.

  One of the gorilla sergeants, sitting astride his horse at the edge of the square, near the Ape Senate Building, spoke to the young private who sat, mounted too, near him. “Mungwort, I sure wish I’d been picked to go out on General Urko’s hunt!”

  “Well, Sergeant Brutar, you know someone had to stay behind.”

  “Yeah, but I really like the thrill of those hunts. Riding through some cornfield, seeing the face of some humanoid scared half to death, watching the rope settle around his neck so nice—Dammit, Mungwort, I wish we had been on this one! It must have been a beauty!”

  The shy private shifted on his saddle and scratched at his chest beneath the heavy green tunic. “But it’s rather nice staying here, too.”

  Sergeant Brutar looked at the private with disgust. “Mungwort, you’re a sorry excuse for a soldier. I remember how you were when we cleaned out that nest of troublesome humanoids last year. You hung back, didn’t you? While the rest of us rode right in, shooting off our guns, taking care of those beasts, you were riding around on the perimeter!”

  “I was checking for strays, sergeant.”

  Sergeant Brutar spat, and a rumble came from his deep chest. “Yeah, sure, that’s what you were doing.” He looked at the uncomfortable soldier and said, “I don’t know if we’ll ever make a soldier out of you—what with your chimp grandma! I knew your grandfather, Truga, and he was one devil of a sergeant. You’d never catch him giving any humanoid a quick death like you did in the bayonet practice.”

  “I apologize, sergeant. I slipped, that’s all.”

  Brutar glowered. “Yeah, you slipped, that’s all.” He spat again. “Some sergeant you’d make. Your old man would turn over in his grave, if he could see you today.”

  Mungwort looked uncomfortable and attempted to distract his sergeant from himself. “Oh, sergeant, do look over there at that fine procession!”

  The burly sergeant turned and watched the Council of Elders leaving their Council Hall and walked through the crowd in regal manner. “Cursed ’rangs,” Brutar grumbled, spitting again.

  “Urko said we must eliminate them,” Mungwort said sadly.

  “General Urko, you humanoid-brain!” Sergeant Brutar threw the soldier a mad scowl. “And he never said no such thing.””

  “I believe he did, sergeant, if I may correct you,” Mungwort insisted politely, in chimpanzee fashion.

  “Oh, for Kerchak’s sake, Mungwort, you got it all twisted around! He said they shouldn’t interfere with soldierly affairs. That’s what he said.”

  “Well, perhaps…”

  The orangutans waddled through the crowd and up onto the platform that held the dignitaries. Their clothing was apricot- or peach-colored, sometimes with leather panels carved in ritual symbols. Their fine yellow-orange fur ruffled in the breeze and their tired, pouched old eyes gazed out over the assembled apes wearily.

  Dr. Zaius, the leader of the council, was approached by the elderly Zao, who had once held Zaius’s post, years before. The wizened face looked at Zaius and the hint of a smile came across his wrinkled features.

  “Doctor Zaius, are you ready to welcome the great General Urko?”

  Zaius gave his fellow councilman a frown. “Don’t make light of this situation, Zao. You know as well as I that a delicate balance must be maintained. The gorillas must be given every opportunity to have their heroes and work off their aggressions with just this sort of demonstration.”

  Zao sighed and looked around. “You’re right, of course, but I am so weary of those posturing idiots. They are really so low-class…” His voice drifted away as a gorilla soldier came up and handed a message to Zaius.

  The orangutan leader read it and gave the messenger an answer. “The usual flourishes, Warga. We need not become extravagant in our praises.”

  The gorilla frowned, but left without a word.

  To Zao’s questioning expression Zaius said, “They wanted something special—firing of cannons, releasing pigeons, that sort of thing. I would not tolerate that. Giving the gorillas an outlet is one thing, but giving them an exaggerated sense of their own importance is something I just simply will not stand for!”

  Zao looked around and pointed to two chimpanzees seated in the front row of the seats. “Why are Zira and what’s-his-name, Cornelius, here?”

  Dr. Zaius looked at the two chimpanzees, who were chatting quietly. “Oh, they are studying the humanoids, you know.” He gave Zao a significant look, then continued: “They wanted to get a good first look at any specimens that are brought in. I suppose they will be hounding me for more and more experimental animals.”

  He sighed and watched the two young, but mature, scientists talk. He saw them laugh and lean forward to kiss each other affectionately. Zao frowned, but Zaius smiled within. Oh, to be young again! he thought. Then, to distract himself from the sight, he looked out over the square, picking out apes that he knew. I know fewer and fewer of them personally, as the years go by. Always so much work to do…

  In one corner of the square a motion-picture camera crew was gathered around their boss. Their equipment was temporarily set up on tripods nearby, ready to be moved into position when their leader designated the locations.

  The leader, a big chimpanzee in the green clothing of his race, spoke to his crew. “Mikki, you get the whole entourage from that rooftop there. I want to see the whole line of vehicles. Then zoom in on the cages when you can. Ziora, you do the close-up stuff; use the hand-held camera. Munko, you help Ziora. Keep the children from tripping his legs and keep your eye out for good ape-interest stuff. You know what they like. Battle-weary troops, maybe a wounded ape or two being helped from the vehicles. Watch for loot, watch, for any scars on the vehicles. Point up the terrific battle they must have gone through.”

  “Aw, Zirko, you know those stupid animals never make a real battle. There won’t be any bullet holes or anything,”

  Zirko gave the junior cameraman a glaring reprimand. “Munko, do as you are told. Maybe they hit a rock or got snagged by a tree. Look for battle damage. We don’t have to s
ay it was humanoid action that did it, we only show it.” The big ape then turned to another cameraman. “Drik, you shoot from over there, on Camera Two. Get the dignitaries in the background, but don’t use up too much film on them. What people want to see today is General Urko and our glorious troops. See that you get what I want, or you’ll be back cleaning cameras and sweeping out the studio.”

  “Aw, Zirko, won’t you ever forget my lousing up that war-games assignment? It wasn’t my fault I picked a spot where they were going to conduct a tank charge.”

  Zirko glared at him. “You should have paid attention during the briefing, dumbo. Cameras don’t grow on trees, you know.”

  “All right, Zirko, I’ll watch it.”

  The boss chimp turned again toward the dignitaries, noting the play of light and shadows and estimating the exposure that would be needed. His little beady eyes scanned the perimeter of the square, seeing the apes crowded into every window that had a view of the square and the street leading to it.

  “Get some filler shots of those people in the windows, too,” he ordered Munko. “Just a few seconds each. They’ll start screaming and hollering first, long before anyone down here can see them. Get a few good shots, and we can use them as cutaways to tighten the whole action, if we need to.”

  Zirko looked at his soundman, who winked and held up a thumb and finger in a sign of readiness.

  “All right, get to your places,” Zirko ordered.

  Again his eyes scanned the windows and rooftops, where anxious apes awaited the return of their heroes. They still had not sounded the return alarm, though several apes were already peering under hands held up to their eyes.

  Zirko gazed at the huge Arch of Triumph, his ape blood stirring proudly at the bas-reliefs that depicted the history of simian conquests since the beginning of history. It’s a magnificent structure, he thought, and one of Apedom’s finest monuments. We have much to be proud of, and I am proud to be one of the recorders of contemporary history. He looked at the big arch as if he thought of its carvings as historical newsreels. His thick lips twisted in a grin and he chuckled to himself.