Planet of the Apes Omnibus 3

by Titan Books

  “Dr. Mather was one of our greatest surgeons,” said Burke, trying to be helpful. “He worked at the Hanson Clinic when I was in college.”

  Kira turned back to Galen, astonished. “If Zaius knew about this, why weren’t we allowed to know?”

  Galen sighed. “Well,” he said slowly, “for political reasons. If humans could write books like this, why should they be content to be slaves? He was afraid it would mean the end of our civilization.”

  There was a long pause, a frightened silence, during which Kira searched Galen’s face for some sign of reassurance. She had thought at first that Galen had made his remark facetiously. The idea of human beings ruling the world was ridiculous to her. The thought of one being intelligent enough now to be her equal—or perhaps, her superior!—could not be borne. Surely Galen must be joking. But there was nothing in his expression to indicate that. Kira took a deep breath. “What if Zaius is right?” she asked fearfully.

  Burke laughed softly at the anxiety the concept was causing Kira. He felt like a pet poodle that had just displayed talents for the piano and expressionistic painting. Meanwhile, Kira’s question hung heavily and ominously in the air. Before Galen could respond, there was an urgent knock on the door.

  Galen, being nearest to the door, opened it. Travin stood there, evidently agitated. He spoke directly to Kira, ignoring Galen and Burke. “The stranger,” he said excitedly, “he’s very sick.”

  Suddenly, Kira jerked her head toward Galen. In their discussion of the world and the role of human beings, in their curiosity and fear of the human medical book, they had forgotten about Virdon. All that time, he had grown steadily worse under the insufficient attention of the rest of the medical staff and the human slaves. Kira just pointed, and followed Travin, Burke, and Galen out the door.

  They hurried across the hospital compound, to the shabby building that housed the human servants. Travin led the way through the large central room where they drew mildly curious looks from the slaves and human orderlies who sat around the edges of the meeting hall, passing the hours in fatigue and frustration.

  Virdon was in the throes of a convulsion. Burke went to his side, anxious and not exactly sure what to do. “Hold him down,” said Kira softly. She tore a strip of cloth from the rough covering on the pallet and pressed it between his teeth. After a few moments, the convulsion subsided. Virdon opened his eyes wearily. Burke tried to disguise his fear and smiled at his friend.

  “Easy, buddy,” said the dark-haired man. “Are you okay? How are they treating you? The food okay? Of course not. Anyway, you wouldn’t believe what your good pals have done for you tonight.”

  Virdon was dazed; he stared at Burke, as though he were trying to make out shapes in a fog. “Okay?” he murmured, like a faint echo of Burke’s words. “I’ll let you know as soon as the room stops moving. What happened?”

  Kira pushed in front of Burke, trying to resume control of the situation. Her medical training and her compassion came to the fore, drowning her fear and her conditioned loathing of humans. “You had a convulsion,” she said, in an impersonal, somewhat cold voice. “The bullet must have moved slightly, closer to a nerve.”

  Virdon seemed to notice Kira for the first time. He looked into her face, frowning, trying to focus his eyes. “You’re Dr. Kira, aren’t you?” he said at last.

  Kira would not be drawn into anything other than a professional conversation. If what Galen had hinted were true, then it might mean hard times in the future for all of the ape society. Kira found herself caught in the dilemma, and the only solution that she could see was to remain businesslike. “It’s no concern of yours who I am. Take this medicine,” she said. She brought out a small bottle, opened it, and gave it to Virdon. Nevertheless, the blond human hesitated. He held the bottle near his lips; everyone was silent, watching, but Virdon did not drink.

  “Go ahead,” said Kira softly. “I’m not trying to poison you. It’s just a mild sedative.”

  “Come on, pal,” said Burke, “you’ve swallowed worse things in the line of duty. Think of that banana sundae they gave us on that trip to Titan.” Burke smiled when he saw Virdon shudder. Virdon swallowed the medicine and grimaced. After a moment he closed his eyes, surrendering to the effects of the drug. Burke stood up and joined Kira and Galen in a conference in a corner of the room. “He’s in bad shape,” said Burke, looking back toward his now unconscious friend. The two men had always been close, but now, in a strange world, they had been brought even closer. Burke’s concern was as great as though he himself were lying wounded on the bed. “We just can’t delay that operation anymore.”

  Kira looked thoughtfully at the still form of Virdon, then at the book of human surgery which Galen held. “We may not be able to operate, after all,” she said.

  Burke looked at her incredulously—especially after all the trouble and danger they had gone through, bringing Virdon to the hospital and stealing the book. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

  Kira took a deep breath. She had had to deal with many families before and to deliver the worst news on many occasions. That was part of her job. Now, though, it was a little different. “That seizure,” she said. “I’ve seen it very often in gunshot cases. The bullet may have migrated into a region of dense blood vessels. If we go into that area, it’s almost certain to touch off massive internal bleeding. And in his condition, he couldn’t survive a heavy loss of blood.”

  Burke understood Dr. Kira’s objection, but the answer was so routine and obvious that he was perplexed. “We could transfuse blood during surgery,” he said, wondering why he had to remind a senior surgeon of such a commonplace fact. “Surely there are enough humans here to come up with some donors.”

  Dr. Kira waved the suggestion away impatiently. “Blood transfer is impossible,” she said, a note of finality in her voice.

  “Are you speaking from the vast tradition of ape medicine,” Burke said sarcastically, “or from scientific experience?”

  Kira looked at Burke. She couldn’t believe that a human being could speak in such a manner, especially to an ape—a chimpanzee of authority. Whether what Galen had said about these two astronauts was true or not, this man Burke had better learn to respect the limits of propriety. He wasn’t in his own time any longer. “We tried it once, a few years ago,” she said coldly.

  “On apes?” asked Galen.

  Kira turned and gave her former suitor a tired look. It seemed to her that Galen’s association with humans had somewhat damaged his promising intellect. “On humans,” she said bluntly. “We wouldn’t consider trying such a radical procedure without testing it on animals first.”

  “Naturally,” said Burke, his voice filled with scorn. “What happened?”

  Kira was growing tired of this interrogation. She was used to giving orders and being obeyed. She didn’t like having to explain every step of every procedure she ordered. “The patient suffered a severe reaction and died within minutes of the blood transfer. Dr. Leander concluded that transferring blood from one being to another was against the laws of nature.”

  Burke chewed his lip as he thought. It had been demonstrated time and again that the apes had yet to discover what used to be termed “the scientific method,” something which every school child accepted as plain common sense. The scientific mood dictated that one began with a hypothesis, made experiments, collected data, examined the information obtained and compared it with the expected results, and then came to a conclusion. It was understood that the experiments were to be conducted in a rational atmosphere, and in such a way as to exclude the influences of all other factors beyond the one under study. The apes, on the other hand, seemed to come to speedy and generally erroneous conclusions, based simply on a quick examination of a single event. That was the kind of thinking that many centuries ago had determined that the Earth was the center of the universe.

  And, of course, the majority of apes believed that, too.

  “You must have tried the transf
usion with a mismatched donor,” said Burke at last. It was the only explanation that he could find. “There’s a simple blood test we can do to find a compatible donor. We’re bound to find one among all the humans here.”

  “What will you tell them?” asked Kira. “You said yourself that Travin is getting suspicious.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Burke with a laugh, with more lightheartedness than he felt, “I’ll handle Travin.”

  “How?” asked Galen. Galen could always be counted on to ask that. He called it intellectual probing. Burke called it quibbling.

  “We have something in common,” said Burke, thinking of the chief human in the hospital compound. “We hate each other.”

  Virdon moaned in his sleep, but the drug kept him from awakening and suffering. The long night passed with Burke, Galen, and Dr. Kira always nearby, watching. When the sun rose and filled the main room of the humans’ quarters, there was frantic activity already going on. Travin entered the building, ready for a full day of hard work; he glowered at what he saw inside. He stood for a moment, brooding. There was a line of humans, already dressed in their orderly uniforms; the last in the line was holding his hand out so that Burke, under the nominal supervision of Dr. Adrian, could take a blood sample. When he finished, Burke turned to Travin. “Come on,” said the astronaut, “it’s your turn.”

  “No,” said Travin.

  “Yes,” said Galen.

  Travin looked at Burke, then at the chimpanzee. Travin shrugged and held out his hand. Burke carefully and quickly took his sample. Travin did not change expression or say a word.

  “We’ve got eleven samples here,” said Burke. “I was told that there are twelve humans here.”

  “There are only eleven,” said Travin in a cold, hostile voice.

  Burke thought for a moment, his expression somber. Then he remembered. “Where’s the girl?” he asked.

  Travin reacted with hot anger. “She is not a person!” he cried.

  Burke ignored Travin’s words. “I think you’d better get her,” he said calmly.

  Before Travin could make any kind of response, Galen looked at him and said, “One moment.” Then the chimpanzee pulled Burke aside. “It could be dangerous to tamper with these people’s taboos,” he said. “Do we really need the girl?”

  Burke looked past Galen’s massive shoulder to where Travin stood. The human’s expression was threatening; it was obvious that Travin was just waiting for an opportunity to break up Burke’s and Galen’s entire show. “We might need her,” said Burke thoughtfully. “Virdon’s blood type is labeled O. Statistically, there’s about one chance in ten of finding a compatible donor.”

  Galen considered Burke’s reasoning. He had never before heard of such a thing as blood types. The words “AB negative” meant little to him, about as much as the terms “propulsion units” or “flight command center.” But he had accepted these things as parts of Burke’s old world, and he assumed that in this case, too, the astronaut knew what he was talking about. For the sake of their blond friend, he’d better know what he was talking about. Galen turned back to Travin. “Where is the girl?” he asked.

  “By the well,” said Travin sulkily.

  Galen turned again and nodded to Burke, who left without another word. Travin watched him go, then asked Galen, “These blood samples. Is it permissible to ask what they’re for?”

  “It is not permissible,” said Galen, drawing himself up to his full height.

  Galen stared at Travin until the human had to look away. It made no difference what Galen’s identity really was; even if he were the lowliest farmer or peasant, his status as an ape would make him master of all humans in any situation. Travin nodded, acquiescent. But when Galen turned away, it was Travin who adopted the sneering attitude and his look of suspicion was directed at Galen himself.

  The morning sun was already warm on Burke’s back as he left the dark building that housed the human slaves. The apes and human beings of the medical compound were scurrying about on their early errands, and Burke walked among them unnoticed. He crossed the hard-packed dirt of the courtyard, spotting the solitary figure of the girl, who was seated by the well. Burke went up to her and smiled. She ignored him.

  He stood for a moment, looking down at her. “Hello,” he said, smiling again.

  She looked up at him, squinting against the sun; she was startled that anyone would speak to her. She reacted suddenly, turning away in conditioned fear.

  Burke realized that he would have to proceed with great care. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I just want to talk to you.”

  Burke’s friendly overture didn’t change the girl’s attitude. Her wariness had been developed through years of punishment. She stared away from Burke, looking at nothing in particular in the dusty distance. “No one may speak to me except through my father,” she said in a dull voice.

  Burke frowned, wondering how to proceed. He knew that Virdon would know the right way; Virdon, who left children of his own back where they came from. Burke felt a rare feeling, a sudden longing for family and friends, a growing loneliness. He shrugged the feeling off; there was nothing to be done about it. Not here. Not now. Fate had seen to that—even Virdon’s beautiful family had been dead for two thousand years, a fact that the blond man could never escape. Now, Burke had to find the key to these people’s traditions, or the blond man himself would soon join his family under less happy circumstances. “Your father said that it’s all right,” said Burke. “I need your help.”

  “What kind of help can I give you?” asked the girl flatly.

  Burke tried to make his voice light and cheerful. “We’re running a medical test,” he said. “It’s an experiment Dr. Adrian is conducting. That’s why we’re here. He wants a sample of everyone’s blood.”

  The girl shivered, fearful. She turned around for the first time and looked at Burke. “What for?” she asked.

  “Just to help in some lab work. It’s nothing to worry about. Please. Trust me.”

  She thought for a moment, recalling how Burke had stopped the human, Lafer, from beating her. She looked at Burke, torn between her fear and her feeling for this one person who had been kind to her. After a few seconds she said, “I trust you.”

  A while later, inside the laboratory of the apes’ medical compound, Burke worked over the samples of blood that he had obtained through the false authority of “Dr. Adrian.” Dr. Kira had her normal responsibilities to attend to, so Burke and Galen were alone in the lab.

  “We had studied blood types for almost a hundred years before I was shot into this ape world,” said Burke. “We were learning more and more about blood every year. There are dozens of different things that go into making up blood. Somebody once suggested that a list of all the specific things or absence of things might identify a person better than a fingerprint.”

  “Fingerprint?” asked Galen. The apes, of course, had not made that discovery yet.

  “Never mind. Look. You see what happens here. We can divide blood into four types: A, B, AB, and O. If you mix A with B, it will get all clotted up. The same thing happens if you mix A with O, if the A is coming from a donor. We can work out a chart of blood types, based on which types are compatible. A simple rule is that a person with O blood can give his blood safely to anyone else, and a person with AB blood can receive safely from anyone else. That’s ignoring the existence of the Rh factor and a few other things. We don’t have the time or the equipment to be that sophisticated. We know that Alan has type O blood. That means that he can receive blood only from another type O person;”

  “Who?”

  “Well,” said Burke, “I’ve typed all of the humans in the compound, and we have two choices.” The astronaut sounded hesitant. “One of them is that guy I clobbered. Lafer. He seems like the best choice. Let’s hope his blood is in better shape than his brain.”

  It was not long before Lafer was seated in a chair in the lab. Galen and Burke looked at the man meditatively. He
was pale and sick-looking; Dr. Kira was giving him an examination, to which he reacted in a listless fashion, totally unlike his usual bullying manner. Burke and Galen waited until Kira turned from Lafer and went to Burke and Galen. She spoke softly. “He has a fever. I believe he has a bad-water illness,” she said.

  Burke chewed his lip at this piece of news. “That figures,” he said glumly. “Of all the times to pick, too. This guy Lafer gets my vote for Crumb of the Year.”

  “Crumb?” asked Kira.

  “Archaic,” said Burke. “Pejorative slang. Forget it.”

  “Certainly,” said Kira.

  “What it means is that we can’t transfuse his blood,” said Burke.

  Galen looked over his shoulder; Lafer looked very ill. The chimpanzee shuddered at the thought of taking unclean blood from the human and transferring it to Virdon. “You said that there was another eligible donor,” he said to Burke.

  The dark-haired astronaut hesitated a moment. He realized that Virdon only had one chance left, and all the ancient rituals and folkways of these strange apes and strange humans would have to be bent for his sake. “I’ll get her,” he said.

  Burke hurried outside. He assumed correctly that he could find the girl somewhere in the courtyard before the quarters of the human’ slaves. When he approached her, she seemed to panic. Burke guessed that her father had been talking to her. “Listen to me,” he said. “My friend, the blond man, will die unless you help us.”

  “I know what you want,” said the girl, horrified. “You want me to give him my blood.”

  “He’ll die,” said Burke. He held out one hand to her, but she didn’t come closer. Burke silently prayed to his long-neglected God and began pleading with the girl. “The procedure is safe. And you’ll help to save his life. Doesn’t that mean anything at all to you?”

  The girl became hysterical. “No!” she cried in a hysterical voice. “I’ll kill him! The curse will kill me, too. It’ll kill all of us!”

  She made her hands into small fists and flailed the air around her. Tears streaked her red cheeks. Then she bolted and ran toward the exit of the courtyard. Burke, alarmed, ran after her.