Planet of the Apes Omnibus 2

by John Jakes

  Davidson had been here long enough to understand that, to apes, a pack of wild humans was no more worrisome than he would find a breakout of spider monkeys from the zoo. Irritating, possibly, but certainly not dangerous.

  So let’s see if I can’t change their minds about that, Davidson thought. Without, if at all possible, getting any of us killed…

  Which might be easier said than done. If he could hear the apes, they could certainly hear anything untoward from the humans busily pillaging their horses. And Daena and Ari were already hissing at each other again. What a relief it would be to just knock both of them in the head, stuff them in bags, and haul them to this Calima place.

  Of course, if he tried that with Ari, Krull would knock him in the head, and he’d decided he wouldn’t want Gunnar at his back if he popped Daena, either.

  He glanced at the horse, who returned the favor with a wall-eyed look. The beast seemed reasonably calm, though Davidson could tell that it was a little spooked by so much human scent in its nostrils.

  He patted the stallion’s neck one last time, then grabbed its long, flowing mane and used the leverage to vault onto the horse’s bare back.

  The horse started, did a couple of dancing steps, but then, to Davidson’s relief, settled right down. He waited until he was sure nothing untoward would occur, then looked down at the circle of faces staring up at him in amazement. To the humans, seeing another human on horseback was as strange and unbelievable as seeing one riding an ape.

  “Who’s next?” Davidson asked.

  Evidently, from the way they all took a couple of shuffling steps backward and began to carefully inspect the ground at their feet, nobody wanted to be next.

  Davidson shrugged. It wasn’t as if he’d actually invited everybody along on this party.

  “Then I guess we’re saying goodbye here,” he hissed.

  That was enough to send Ari stepping hesitantly forward. She looked up at Davidson, then cast an apprehensive glance toward the corral, where the rest of the horses milled quietly.

  Daena sneered, “You can’t go. You’re afraid of water.”

  Stung, Ari turned and spat right back, “You can’t go. You’re afraid of horses.”

  Wonderful, Davidson thought.

  He leaned forward, took a double handful of his horse’s mane, then booted it gently in the ribs and urged it between the two females, effectively ending the latest confrontation.

  He looked down at Daena. “You want to ride? Grab a fistful of mane and hold on.”

  Then he turned to Ari. “You want to cross the river?” He gave his mount a pat. “Horses are great swimmers. They’ll carry you across.”

  Krull slipped out of the shadows, silent as a ghost. He kept his voice low, but Davidson could hear him clearly.

  “You’re assuming the soldiers won’t tear you to pieces.” Krull paused, then added, “I saw Thade’s greatest warrior ride into the camp.”

  Davidson stared at him, surprised at the way he said it.

  “Sounds like he scares you,” he said, half joking. But as usual, if Krull had a sense of humor, he was keeping it well under wraps.

  “He does,” he replied flatly. “I trained him myself.”

  Great, Davidson thought. Another revelation about my buddy Krull, and another prophecy of doom to go along with it. Just what we all need.

  Evidently Limbo was impressed also. He uttered a sickly chuckle, then babbled, “Well, good luck, have a pleasant ride. Obviously I can’t go, so if you don’t mind…”

  He rattled his chains, then held them up hopefully.

  Davidson surprised everybody, even himself, by fishing in his pocket, finding the key, leaning over, and unlocking them.

  Daena was shocked. “You’re letting him go?”

  Limbo’s shackles fell to the ground with a muffled clink. The chimp sighed, rubbed his chafed wrists in obvious pleasure, then looked up at Davidson.

  “No,” Davidson replied. “He’ll ride with us.” Limbo took a hop backward, shaking his head emphatically. “There is no way…”

  But Ari overrode him. “And if you try to get away, I will tell Thade we bribed you to help us.”

  Limbo stared at her in disbelief. But he didn’t discount her threat. He knew she had connections, not just with her father, but with the general himself. And the general scared him to death. Well, maybe not that far, but far enough to make him me stinky-smelling flowers all over his body.

  “I’ll deny it,” he countered.

  But then Krull shot an ugly grin over his mistress’s shoulder and added, “A very large bribe…”

  Limbo was trapped. He didn’t understand how he’d gotten trapped—all he’d tried to do was reclaim his property, as any sane, intelligent ape would do, and now here he was in the middle of the mountains, at night, being falsely blackmailed by other so-called respectable apes, and it just wasn’t fair!

  He exploded. “The whole thing’s suicide! Ride through an army encampment? Only a human would think this could work!”

  Davidson knew the chimp hadn’t intended it as a compliment. Nevertheless, there was something almost hilarious about the fuming slaver’s helpless rage.

  He grinned down at him and said, “Attitude is the first human freedom.”

  And with that, he reached into the messenger box that never left his side, and pulled out a flare gun.

  * * *

  The captain’s tent, which Attar had temporarily appropriated for his own use, was small, dim, and clogged with thick blue clouds of smoky incense.

  A few candles flickered dimly in the murk, illuminating the patterns of the small woven tapestry on which Attar knelt, his hands moving slowly over the incense, stirring the smoke, which rose in slow billows around a small icon of the First Ape, Semos.

  Attar bowed before the image with a stiff intensity that made the depth of his belief and faith unmistakable. He was alone, having given explicit orders that his devotions not be disturbed for any reason.

  All the more, then, was his shock when his silent prayers were interrupted by a sharp, rising, breathy whoosh, which was immediately followed by a glare so bright he thought for a moment that somehow the suns had risen again, but in the middle of the night.

  He lurched to his feet, his heart pounding as he reached for his sword, and then rushed out of the tent to find the camp in total chaos.

  Terrified troopers were gathered in clusters, pointing at the sky and moaning or shouting in fear. High above, a vast white star rained blinding white streamers of light down on them, hissing softly.

  Attar glanced at this, and took in the rest of the disarray also, but he cocked his head and began to listen intently, for his sharp hearing had picked out a sound no one else had yet noticed: the thunderous clatter of horses’ hooves pounding across the earth.

  He didn’t know what that hissing light in the sky was, but he did know what that sound meant. He turned toward its source, just in time to see his worst fears confirmed. Careening out of the shadows of the stone corral came a stampede of frenzied beasts. That was bad enough, but these animals had riders.

  Human riders!

  The man he most wanted, the man his general had charged him with finding and capturing, rode a snorting, bucking stallion in the van. Right behind him were two more wild humans, the woman whose father he had fought, and Thade had killed, and a young boy Attar didn’t recognize.

  In a clump behind these, an even worse sight: more humans, but also Ari, Senator Sandar’s daughter, and the great ape Krull, her servant and Attar’s own military mentor from the misty past. Last came the chimp slaver, Limbo, a horrified expression on his face, holding on for dear life.

  Krull was perhaps the biggest surprise, and certainly the least welcome. If he had gone over to the humans willingly…

  Then his own training, learned at the relentless hands of the very ape now riding down on him, snapped him out of his momentary paralysis. He whipped into action with his usual decisiveness, though there wasn
’t much he could do right at the moment but gauge the extent of the damage.

  The humans had freed the rest of the horses, and they were pounding right along with them, eyes wild, kicking and snorting, trampling anything unlucky enough to get in their way. Ape soldiers dove in every direction, or, if they weren’t quick enough, found themselves stomped into bloody mush by their own steeds.

  The humans whooped and screamed as they rode, adding even more to the din and the confusion. Tents collapsed as horses foundered into them. Hooves crashed into campfires and sent sparks flying, as mounds of equipment were first scattered, then crushed beneath the irresistible onslaught.

  Almost as soon as it appeared, the wild stampede roared through the camp and began to vanish on the other side. All Attar could do was turn and watch it go, seething with anger that he’d been so easily taken.

  He saw that the last rider, the slave trader, was trying to pull up. It didn’t take an expert to see the little ape was no horseman. He could barely control his steed, in fact had only managed to slow it somewhat, and turn it back in the general direction of the camp.

  The troopers turned out to be better trained than he would have guessed from the nature of their leaders. Already, though stunned by the suddenness and ferocity of the assault, they were pulling themselves together and reaching for their weapons.

  He saw a squad of men armed with fire throwers go rushing past, chasing after the rapidly disappearing riders, and a few moments later, another troop of spearmen pounded past.

  The slaver was trying to drag his horse toward the soldiers, without a whole lot of luck. Attar started to run toward him. He could hear the chimp’s voice crying with thin panic.

  “Help, help, don’t hurt me, I’m on your side!”

  But the enraged troopers weren’t having any of it. A volley of fireballs suddenly sizzled through the air toward the chimp. One nicked his arm, leaving a smoking patch, and nearly startling him off his mount. Then the spearmen arrived and followed the salvo of fireballs with a charge of their own.

  The slaver’s horse had come to a confused, dancing halt, jerking first one way, then the other, unable to figure out how to respond to threats of fire on one side, shouting spearmen on the other, and a rider jerking hard but ineffectually at his mane.

  Limbo wailed in despair as he saw his own doom approaching.

  I should have known, he sobbed inwardly. Nothing I do turns out right…

  He heard the clatter of hooves behind him, and turned in time to see Davidson riding hard toward him. The big dun stallion looked wild, but Davidson was controlling him easily. He missed Limbo by bare inches, but as he rode past, he reached out and gave the chimp’s horse a tremendous whack on the flank.

  It was enough to get the beast going again, and with a kick and a snort, it set off after Davidson.

  As a final insult and injury, as Davidson galloped past a scattered fire, he reached down, snagged a burning log, and heaved it into one of the half-collapsed tents. A few moments later the blaze, whipped by the constant wind, began to spread like wildfire, and then the entire encampment was burning. Attar saw an ape run from a blazing tent, his fur on fire as he howled in agony.

  Davidson spared a single glance over his shoulder at the chaos he’d left behind—the chaos he’d caused, he thought, with a warm glow of revenge building in his belly—and then he was riding hard for the river.

  He quickly caught up with, and then passed, Limbo, who was still clinging to his mount like a rag doll glued in place. The river was dead ahead. In the flickering glowlight from the burning camp, he saw the shadowy figures of his people, milling about in a pack of riderless horses, trying desperately to control their own mounts.

  He galloped into the confusion, rode through it, and pulled up on the bank of the river. In the mixed glint of firelight, moonlight, and starlight, it flowed with a cold, heavy power, deep and wide.

  Around him, he could see Ari, Krull, and Limbo staring at the rushing water with unconcealed fear. The humans were still unsettled by the thought of actually riding horses, but some of their unease was fading away. Davidson grinned to himself. They were relieved that none of the beasts had tried to eat them, and none of them had fallen off, either.

  In the distance, the apes were regrouping, led by a huge, ominous figure he recognized—General Thade’s hatchet man, the one they called Attar.

  He seemed to have his head about him, despite all the chaos in the camp. He’d already marshaled several small groups of soldiers into a larger force, and was now at their front, urging them toward the river.

  Suddenly a burst of fireballs arced up from the approaching soldiers, and though they fell short, Davidson could tell that wouldn’t last much longer. Time to go…

  He circled back to the heaving horseflesh and confused riders, waving one arm above his head for attention.

  “Drive them through!” he roared, then turned and led the way back to the river.

  Daena heard his cry and, with a fierce joy, slammed her heels into her horse’s ribs. The animal leaped forward with a surge of power that thrilled her to her bones. Why had she ever been so frightened of these beasts? It was almost as if they’d been created for humans to ride.

  Just another ape lie, she thought bitterly, as her mount soared across the riverbank and splashed into the water, snorting and lunging deeper and deeper into the icy flood. She felt a moment of fear as the horse seemed to founder as the water grew too deep for it to keep its footing, but then it began to swim, bearing her weight easily, its bulky muscles writhing like great machines. And then they were across, the horse blowing and tossing its head as it scrambled up to solid ground.

  Birn felt a similar rash of exhilarating power as he pulled hard on the mane of his own mount and leaned forward, shouting into its twitching ears. It responded almost immediately, wheeling and following Daena into the water. His grin grew until it extended nearly from one ear to the other. He felt no fear at all, and wondered if he’d be allowed to keep his steed. In just a few short minutes, he’d come to love the mighty animal.

  Tival had no such exalting thoughts. He was scared witless, and if he’d had any alternative at all other than riding one of these devil beasts, he would have taken it. But that alien madman hadn’t given him a choice in the matter, and now, with enraged chimps and gorillas racing toward him waving spears and fire throwers, his range of choice was even narrower. In fact, at this point, there was no choice at all.

  Shivering, his fingers wrapped in his horse’s mane tight enough to rip hair out by its roots, he closed his eyes and screamed as his mount followed the others into the water.

  Krull was near the end of the line. His horse held no terrors for him. He’d been riding such animals all his life. In fact, he’d crept into the animal pens and selected his own. He weighed almost three hundred fifty pounds, far too much for most horses to bear for very long, and so he’d picked a monster, the biggest mount he could find. It felt strong and steady beneath him.

  As a soldier, he had ridden horses across rivers before. But he’d never enjoyed the experience, and he wasn’t looking forward to it now. Maybe it was this apprehension that led him to forget, if only for a few instants, what his real duty was. But when he finally sucked in a huge, breathy sigh, squeezed his squat legs around his mount’s belly, and kicked it forward, he didn’t check around himself to see where his mistress had gotten to. And by the time he realized his error, he was halfway across the water, riding a swimming horse, with no way to turn back.

  Ari had none of Krull’s advantages. She’d neither ridden much before, nor had anything at all to do with deep water, other than to acknowledge her own terror of it. And now she was perched precariously atop an unfamiliar beast, and faced with the prospect of somehow riding it across an expanse of water that frightened her nearly out of her mind.

  She held back, trying to nerve herself, trying to fight her own building panic, lest it destroy her. Her attention was so concentrated on her own pl
ight that she didn’t notice the apes from the camp were approaching rapidly, with Attar leading them in the van.

  But Attar spotted her, with the same facility a wolf will always spot the weakest of prey, the potential victims cut away from the herd, or the wounded, alone and unable to flee. Not that his discovery pleased him. He had broken bread with this woman in her own home, he knew her family, and he respected her father’s position. Worst of all, he knew his own commander still had feelings for this female, though what they might be now he had no idea.

  Yet in the end, none of it made any difference for him. At his very core, he was a devout servant of the empire and the world that Semos, Father of All, had created, and he knew his duty, both to his people and to Semos himself. Apes and humans together as equals were an abomination.

  He didn’t hesitate at all.

  Somewhere in the chaos he’d picked up a bolo. Now he raised it over his head and began to whirl it. The whiplike ropes with their stony ends made a vicious, whining sound as he brought them up to speed and then sent them flying toward Ari and her skittish, frightened mount.

  The bolo wrapped itself around the forelegs of her horse as tight as a pair of shackles, catching the beast in mid-stride and sending it tumbling headfirst across the ground. Ari went flying with it, arching out over its neck and hitting the earth hard as she kept on rolling.

  Davidson had waited until the end, to make sure all his people got across. But though he tried to keep watch on everything and everybody at once, with the shadowy bedlam going on all around him, he, like Krull, missed a few things. He didn’t spot Ari until just a heartbeat before Attar brought her down. Like the ape commander, he didn’t hesitate, but jerked his horse around and rode hell-for-leather back to the fallen chimp… and an onrushing horde of frenzied, heavily armed apes.

  Across the river, the rest of the party splashed and scrambled up the far bank. Krull, by far the best rider of them all, was the only one who lost his seat, tumbling out when his mount’s front hooves slipped on a patch of mud. He leaped to his feet instantly, looked around for his mistress, and found that, as he’d feared, she hadn’t come across. He turned back and rushed to the very edge of the water, where he stopped, defeated.