by Titan Books
Asher, grateful, bowed and left the office, glad to be still in one piece and functioning. When he had left, Urko turned to the gorilla, Haman. “Return to your post,” said the general. “And on your way out, tell my aide to come in.”
The gorilla saluted. “Yes, sir,” he said. Then he, too, turned and left the office.
Urko crossed the room and went up to a large wall map. In the center of the map was Central City; surrounding it were the names of various villages and farming communities. The roads were drawn boldly, in straight lines linking the various towns. Urko cursed under his breath; he wished that he had the confidence of the mapmaker. Half the towns on the map hadn’t been in existence for two generations. Half the towns that did exist weren’t anywhere on the map. And the roads… Sometimes what was represented on the map by a wide, firm black line turned out to be a beaten-down path through high weeds. The map was almost useless, and it was the best in the ape world. Urko studied it for a moment. The door opened and the general’s aide entered. Urko turned and nodded. Then he pointed at the map. “Cleon,” he said, “that patrol that claimed to have sighted the astronauts the day before yesterday. How sure are they of the identification?”
Cleon considered his words before answering. He had learned from experience that Urko demanded clear and concise information, not opinions. “The men in that patrol belonged to one of our best units, sir,” he said. “They’re absolutely certain that the astronauts were headed into the Northern Mountains, away from Central City.”
Urko thought about this for a few seconds, staring at the map. “Could they have reversed their route and come back toward Central City?” he said.
Cleon looked at the map. The Northern Mountains were drawn in only sketchily, and the entire territory was labeled “Unmapped.” It seemed to General Urko’s aide that it would be a reasonable assumption that the astronauts and their chimpanzee friend would head for the area. “This city is the most heavily patrolled region in the world,” said Cleon. “It just isn’t logical that they’d take such a risk, leaving a relatively unpopulated area to return right into our hands, so to speak.”
General Urko slapped one gauntleted fist into the palm on his other hand. He had been chasing these humans in circles long enough. He swore to himself that he would catch them, and to do that, he would have to learn to think as they did. “We know that they’re not always logical creatures,” said Urko thoughtfully. “Humans are often driven by odd impulses.” Urko considered the problem for a little while longer; Cleon knew enough not to say anything while the general was thinking. At last Urko spoke. “Cancel my trip to the New Territory,” he said. “I think I’ll stay on here for a few more days.”
Cleon nodded silently, saluted, and departed. General Urko turned to the map again and studied it with deep concentration. In his eyes was the look of a hunter closing in on his prey.
3
The sun was already touching the western horizon, and the first pale flush of stars had begun to spread across the sky. The streets of Central City were not as crowded with bustling pedestrians as earlier in the day, but there was still a number of apes strolling along, looking at merchandise in shop windows, or deciding on a restaurant or theater. Many human slaves hurried about, on errands for their masters. In the streets themselves there were few vehicles, for it was expensive and inconvenient to maintain the horses needed to draw them in the city.
And so, when the sound of horses galloping along the main street of Central City echoed among the low buildings, many apes and humans stopped what they were doing to look. A covered horse-drawn cart sped by briskly. On its side was the red and white apes’ head flag above three circles to indicate it was a hospital vehicle. The pedestrians watched it with mild curiosity, wondering what had happened to summon the emergency cart.
The hospital cart was driven by a figure in a hospital uniform, covered by a hooded garment that seemed to be drawn tightly against the cold; if anyone had thought about the matter, he would have realized that it wasn’t that cool, even aboard a racing ambulance. The figure hiding in the cloak was Pete Burke, and beside him sat Galen. They drove quickly and surely through the city; before they reached their goal, however, the racket of horses’ hooves sounded from behind. Galen looked around and saw a patrol of two mounted gorillas overtaking them. The first gorilla rode abreast of the cart and signalled for Galen to stop.
“What’s wrong, officer?” asked Galen.
“I’m sorry,” said the gorilla. “That’s a restricted quarter. What are you doing here?” His voice was without the usual contempt that gorillas had for anyone not of their number; he was merely doing what he had been ordered to do: question anyone who crossed the line into his area of responsibility.
“It’s an emergency,” said Galen impatiently. “We’ve been called to the house of Zaius.”
The officer looked doubtful. He had heard of nothing unusual that evening; Zaius’ house was one of the buildings he had been charged to protect. The gorilla thought that if anything had happened to Zaius, the police would have learned of it. “Zaius?” asked the gorilla. “I saw him earlier in the day. He seemed to be in excellent condition.”
“He’s had a heart attack since then,” said Galen irritably. “Shall we spend the rest of the day discussing it?”
The gorilla’s eyebrows rose at Galen’s angry retort. So did Burke’s. But once again, Galen’s aggressive bluffing carried him through the danger. “Zaius!” said the gorilla. “I’ll give you an escort.” He turned to his fellow officer and instructed the gorillas to continue their rounds. Then the first gorilla kicked up his horse and rode on beside the ambulance.
“Terrific,” muttered Burke to Galen. “We need him for an escort about as much as we need a case of cholera. What do we do when we get there? Tell him that Zaius changed himself into a medical textbook?”
“Don’t be foolish, Burke,” said Galen calmly. “We’re playing this all as it happens, step by step. Why worry about it now?”
“Somebody has to,” muttered Burke gloomily. They rode on into the growing darkness.
There was no time to communicate any further plans as the danger of having them overheard by the gorilla was too great. At last, guarded and guided by the officer, the ambulance arrived at the house of Zaius. It was a large, airy, open building, like most ape homes and offices, reflecting the apes’ longing for nature and their desire to avoid anything that might divide them from their simple past—a past which they remembered, subconsciously at least, to be governed by human beings. That was a thought which every ape either did not know or suppressed.
The next moment, both cart and officer’s mount came to a halt outside the house of the President of the Supreme Council. Galen and Burke jumped off the cart, taking a stretcher and a blanket with them; Galen carried a black medical bag. They started for the front of the house. The gorilla officer followed them, hoping to be of help. Galen turned to him before they reached the door. He did not smile or frown at the gorilla, but spoke in a businesslike manner, trying to avoid arousing the officer’s suspicions. “Where are you going?” he asked.
The officer was startled. He had assumed that the medical team would require his services. Like most gorillas, he did not believe that chimpanzees or orangutans were really capable of action without gorilla supervision. He was wrong. “Into the house,” he said. “If Zaius needs help—”
Galen cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. He had had lots of practice in bluffing authority lately and, to be truthful, he rather enjoyed it. Once again he adopted a tone of voice that would allow no contradiction. “My dear fellow,” he said soothingly but firmly, “Zaius has had a heart attack. That’s a medical condition, not a criminal offense. I believe that you’d be more use guarding the ambulance; one of my colleagues had the wheels stolen off his cart almost within sight of the police garrison.”
Without waiting for an answer from the startled gorilla, Galen and Burke followed the path that led toward the front
of the house. There were lights burning behind pulled drapes. No one in the house had yet become aware of what was happening outside. When Galen and Burke had moved out of sight of the gorilla, they changed direction and headed around toward the back of the house, where Zaius’ study was located. They left the stretcher on the ground, and climbed through a window that had been left open there.
Galen entered first; it would look better if anyone were around, to have an ape discovered. There just might be the slightest chance of an explanation. If a human were found creeping into the house of an ape, and such a prestigious ape as Zaius at that, there would be no questioning. The human would be taken away and shot, simply and quickly. Galen grunted a little as he forced himself over the window sill; he stood up in Zaius’ study and satisfied himself that they were safe. He signalled to Burke, who joined him in the room. The human was more nervous. Galen whispered that Zaius had probably retired to his bedroom to study matters of state with his usual nighttime glass of vegetable juice.
“Well, draw the curtain anyway,” said Burke, still thinking about the gorilla police officer outside.
Galen nodded and did so. The room was shrouded in darkness, its furniture and decorations hidden in the dense shadows. Galen realized that if they were to find what they had come for, and speedily enough to prevent any suspicious doubts in the gorilla, they needed light. Galen crossed the room and lit an oil lantern hanging on the wall, illuminating the cool, dark room. The chimpanzee recoiled in shock and horror—the first thing the light shone upon was the face of an orangutan, glaring at him, frowning with an expression of seriousness and intelligence. Then Galen relaxed. He saw that the face belonged to a sculptured bust on a platform. He examined it quickly, thoughtfully. The bust was of Doswa, one of the greatest of the apes’ executive officers, one of Zaius’ most renowned predecessors. After a moment, he and Burke turned their attention to the other objects in the room.
There was the usual collection of sentimental things from days and accomplishments long gone by; curious shells and pieces of wood on the desk, which could have meaning to no one other than Zaius; framed citations and testimonials from many groups in the ape city; and everywhere heavy, black, handbound books. Their search ended as their gaze fell upon a glass-doored cabinet, also filled with books. Burke tried the cabinet door. If was locked. He tried his knife, and after some nervous moments, he jimmied the door open and scanned the titles printed—unlike the usual ape-manufactured volume— on the spines. He found one book and took it out.
Both Burke and Galen looked for a long moment at the book. It was smaller than the ape-made books, bound tightly and permanently by some machine process. The print was regular and legible. But the most important thing, the thing that would prove most startling to Kira and her associates, was simply the title and the author: Principles of Surgery, by Walter Mather, M.D., F.A.C.S.
Burke thumbed through the book excitedly; he recognized the illustrations from his high school and college days, the red and blue drawings of veins and arteries. The apes had no such accurate mappings of body systems, either ape or human. That was what Galen had meant when he told Kira that the book meant life; there were enough revolutionary ideas in the simple medical text to cause arguments for the next hundred years. The book itself was ancient now, having lasted since human domination of the world, since the days of Burke and Virdon’s own era. The pages were brown and crumbling; Burke handled it carefully, almost reverently. There hadn’t been much to see in the ape world that was directly connected with the almost-forgotten human world. It gave Burke a little emotional lift, a feeling of justification, followed by depression. The book had no place in the present except hidden and locked away. General Urko or any of his subordinates would have destroyed it in a matter of seconds, without another thought. “Well, this is it,” said Burke. There was a slight pause before he spoke again. “But how do we get it past that gorilla?” he asked finally.
Galen looked around. His eyes strayed to the bust of Doswa, the orangutan leader. He went over and picked up the life-size piece of statuary. It was of light clay with a hollow interior; Galen carried it with ease. Holding it up to Burke, Galen said with mock pomposity, “Offhand, I’d diagnose this case as a severe heart attack.” The young chimpanzee looked at the bust and murmured, “Doswa, you led us well, according to the history teachers. Now, please, you’ll have to lead us out of here.”
With that, he scooped up some pillows lying on a sofa. Burke closed the cabinet, and they went to the window. Suddenly Galen remembered the lamp; he crossed back to it and extinguished the flame. Once again the room was plunged into blackness. Galen joined Burke at the window and together they climbed down.
They clambered to the ground, where they had left the stretcher only minutes before and looked around, anxiously for the gorilla, but he was evidently following his orders and guarding the ambulance cart. All at once, Burke thought of something. “What if Zaius goes to his front door, or looks through a window?” he asked.
Galen gave Burke a short look. “Do you mean that you’re just thinking of that now? Sometimes I wonder about you two fellows. Sometimes I think that you’re not all that you say you are.”
“I was trusting you,” said Burke.
“Well,” said Galen with a brief laugh, “that ought to teach you better.”
They arranged the pillows on the stretcher and put the sculptured head of Doswa at the top. Then they carefully put the blanket over it, leaving just the clay head exposed. Burke went to the medical bag for the final touch. He rummaged around in it for a few seconds, and finally took out a sterile mask, which he put over the mouth and nose of the sculptured bust, completely disguising its identity. He and Galen carried the stretcher back out to where the ambulance wagon was parked. The gorilla watched them, but Galen signalled to him that they could load their precious cargo without his aid. Besides, Galen didn’t want the gorilla officer to discover how light the stretcher was. When they had finished, Galen turned to the gorilla. “Can I talk with you in private?” he asked solemnly.
The officer nodded and walked off a few paces with Galen. The chimpanzee spoke in hushed, confidential tones. “When an ape like Zaius falls ill, it’s more than a medical problem. Affairs of state are involved. Do you follow my meaning?”
The gorilla was awed by Galen’s words. “Yes,” he said, “I think so.”
Galen paused. He thought suddenly about what he was so blithely trying to do. For a few moments, speaking with the gorilla, he had enjoyed his role-playing. Now, though, he had a quick glimpse of Burke’s worried expression. And then Galen remembered the reason for the entire masquerade: Virdon, who lay helpless and crippled in an ape hospital, who might at any time be identified and turned over to General Urko and his hateful colleagues. Both astronauts were counting on Galen to keep the scheme simple, for only in simplicity was there any hope of success. Already their quick escape had been held up by Galen’s desire to push his phony authority as far as he could. He was jeopardizing their safety, the very thing he had accused Burke and Virdon of in times past. He had to save them all now, he had to speak carefully.
“The Prime Minister is in there. Zaius, the President of the Supreme Council,” said Galen, jerking one thumb over his shoulder toward the hospital wagon. “He told me to keep this quiet. We surely don’t want to start a panic, do we? I know I can count on your cooperation. He trusts in your ability, also. He is a very ill man, but the situation is by no means hopeless. He was still conscious and speaking coherently when we found him. We’ll take, uh, the patient to the hospital, and you will resume your normal patrol as if nothing happened. Is that all quite clear?”
The gorilla looked proud at being involved in such a momentous event. He saluted Galen. “Yes, sir,” he said.
Galen only nodded in reply and walked back to the wagon. The gorilla remounted his horse and rode off. Galen joined Burke on the cart and they, too, drove away from the house of Zaius.
* * *
&nb
sp; Although it was night, Kira still sat in her office. Before he left, Leander ducked in briefly to say goodnight and ask why Kira had not yet gone home. She answered that she had some work to catch up on. When he closed the door, she went back to worrying about Galen. The young chimpanzee hadn’t told her the details of his plan. All that she knew was that he intended to break into the house of Zaius himself, and steal some hypothetical book. The whole scheme made her nervous, just to think about what might happen to Galen. How long would he be gone? How much longer did she have to worry?
Finally, when she thought she could stand it no more, her office door opened slowly, and Galen and his human friend, Burke, entered. They carried a thick book, much different from the books Kira was used to seeing. “You did it, then,” she said.
“Of course we did,” said Galen. “Here, look.”
Kira took the volume from him and glanced at it. As she leafed through the pages at her desk, her expression grew more and more stunned. Galen and Burke waited patiently on the opposite side of her desk.
Kira looked up at them incredulously. “Diagrams of the circulatory system,” she said. “Surgical procedures. Is this a medical text? Or a work of fiction?”
Galen stared back at her, realizing that the book represented an entire change in her thinking. He recalled when he had had to make the same change. “You knew the answer to that as soon as you saw it,” he said.
“I can’t believe that a human wrote this!” said Kira, slamming one hand on her desk.