Planet of the Apes Omnibus 3

by Titan Books

  Virdon, Burke, and Galen raced madly ahead for the cover of the underbrush and boulders they had left behind only a few minutes before. From the sounds of the horses behind them, it would be close; none of the three friends could tell whether or not they would be overtaken before they reached safety.

  The leading ape crested the knoll and spurred his horse down the back side. The horse ramped a little and the ape pulled sharply on the reins. The horse slipped and stumbled awkwardly down the slope.

  Burke and Galen had already reached the safety of the underbrush and were hidden from the apes’ sight. They tried to urge Virdon on, but there was no way that they could help him. He had plainly been sighted by the ape. Burke and Galen exchanged worried looks.

  The ape charged Virdon, holding his torch at the ready like a flaming mace. Virdon stood his ground before the bellowing rider. The ape thundered on, aiming straight for the yellow-haired man. At the last possible instant, Virdon side stepped and, grabbing the shaft of the swinging torch, he pulled the ape from his horse in a wide, crashing arc.

  The ape landed hard. The dull thud his head made when it hit the ground made Virdon wince. He checked, and the ape was indeed unconscious. Virdon hurried to the underbrush, joining Burke and Galen; the three bent low to the ground and disappeared from view as the rest of the mounted apes galloped over the ridge.

  One of the apes dismounted to tend to his fallen comrade. The others fanned out, searching for any sign of the humans.

  Virdon, Burke, and Galen peered out from their hiding place, well-concealed by the heavy underbrush, confident that they could not be spotted by the apes. A mounted gorilla passed close by; he was evidently the leader, judging from the way he gave orders to the others. He rode back and forth across the small clearing impatiently, while his troops failed to find their quarry.

  The leader of the mounted apes reined in his horse and raised his hand. Behind him, the other five horses were pulled to a snorting, stamping halt. The frightening mask hid the rider’s identity, but his broad, powerful physique marked him as a gorilla. He looked around at the others scornfully. “They’re gone,” he said. “Forget those two humans. There are plenty more.”

  He spurred his horse on, the others following him. They rode down to the bottom of the ridge and back out toward the rough trail they had been following when they had first spotted Burke and Virdon. The three fugitives watched them disappear from sight.

  When they had gone, Galen spoke up. “Did you see that?” he asked. “They were wearing masks!”

  “This is your world, remember,” said Burke. “Tell us what they were. Bandits?”

  “I don’t know everything,” said Galen.

  “You’re a big man to admit that,” said Burke.

  Galen looked at him, shocked. “Watch what you call me,” he said. “Man, indeed.”

  “Well,” said Burke, “you’re kind of a medium-sized ape. Anyway, I didn’t think you had to worry about ape bandits.”

  “They might be bandits,” said Virdon thoughtfully. “But why the torches?”

  Galen and Burke could offer no explanation. They looked at Virdon, all three puzzled. They watched the cloud of dust the apes had raised as it settled back slowly, covering everything, returning the area to its quiet, peaceful, secretly treacherous landscape.

  * * *

  Later that day, Virdon, Burke, and Galen stumbled wearily up to Jasko’s house. It was a crudely built, small one-room cabin. On one side was a small open shed that served as a storeroom for feed and grain. Several chickens and a small goat meandered about the yard. In back of the house was the lake that Burke had mentioned.

  Jasko came out to welcome his two human visitors and their chimpanzee companion. The three travelers were tired and hungry, and Jasko brought them inside, where a vegetable stew was bubbling in a small kettle over an open hearth fire. Jasko removed the kettle from the fire and placed it on a nearby table where Virdon, Burke, and Galen were sitting. There was little conversation; each was too tired to do more than mutter a reply to Jasko’s friendly questions. Still, they managed to learn a little about their pursuers, the masked apes.

  “You’re lucky to have escaped,” said Jasko, a man in his fifties, with strong features and a stocky build. He was a man of the soil, born and raised in this very cabin. He spoke as he ladled each of his guests a bowlful of stew.

  “They are the Dragoons. They’ve driven off many humans, burned their homes, killed several. The past weeks have been bad—very bad.”

  Virdon and Burke ate some of the stew while Jasko talked. Burke looked up and shook his head. “This is a real nice friendly community you’ve got here, Jasko,” he said. “I’ll bet you have some terrific Little League games.”

  “It’s hard to believe that even apes would go to all this trouble and violence over the killing of a single ape,” said Virdon.

  “That killing caused the kettle to boil over,” said Jasko. “It’s really nothing new. It’s just grown out of proportion. The apes here hate the humans, just like in many other places. But here they think that there are too many of us. It’s understandable, I guess.”

  Jasko seated himself at the table and helped himself to the stew. Galen hadn’t yet tasted the meal. He listened to Jasko and the two astronauts, staring at his dish.

  “Sure, sure,” said Virdon. “It’s the same old story. Somebody gets hot under the collar and decides to take the law into his own hands. It always turns out that a lot of innocent people suffer.”

  “I think the whole matter is terrifying,” said Galen, still staring somewhat forlornly at his bowl.

  Burke noticed that Galen wasn’t eating, which, for the young chimpanzee, was a rare enough occasion to require some explanation. Burke knew that one of the main points of conflict between the apes and humans was eating habits; the apes never ate meat, and they were disgusted by humans who did.

  “Chow down,” said Burke. “It’s good.”

  Galen looked up at Burke and frowned. The ape returned his attention to the food, playing around in it a little with his spoon. He was still reluctant to taste some of this human food.

  “It’s meatless,” said Burke, grinning at Galen’s change of expression.

  Burke’s words were welcome news to the chimpanzee. He smiled and lifted a spoonful of the vegetable stew to his mouth. He tasted the human creation. “Yes,” he said happily, “yes, it is good.”

  “Thank you,” said Jasko. “I knew that you’d be accompanying Virdon and Burke. I’m sorry if you thought that I’d serve you a meat dish.”

  “No, no, it’s my fault,” said Galen. “Consideration is a quality that I was taught is completely absent in human beings. I now have to learn exactly the opposite. But I have better teachers, now.” Virdon and Burke exchanged smiles.

  Galen ate another spoonful. Then he looked up thoughtfully. “These Dragoons, as you call them. Surely they’re illegal,” he said. “I mean, even apes must abide by laws which forbid such actions against humans.”

  “He is sometimes very naive,” said Burke in an apologetic tone.

  “He led a very sheltered life,” said Virdon.

  “Sometimes I think that’s all they have here,” said Burke. “For the apes, anyway.”

  Jasko waved aside their comments. He looked serious. “We are far from any kind of forceful authority,” he said. “The village where you met my brother has enough police to deal with such things. But here…” Jasko’s voice trailed off into a despondent sigh. “Perdix and Zon try, but they cannot be everywhere. No, my friends. Humans are in grave jeopardy. Especially strangers like yourselves. Take my advice. It would be better for you to move on as soon as you have rested.”

  “There’s no need to try to convince me,” said Burke. “I’ve grown rather fond of living.”

  Virdon glanced at Jasko. “Will you come with us?” he asked.

  Jasko shook his head, slowly and sadly. “I’ve lived here my whole life. To start over again? No. I will take my
chances. This terror cannot last forever.”

  Virdon and Burke looked at each other again, but this time their expressions were deeply concerned.

  Early the next day, the leader of the Dragoons sat astride his horse. His eyes were ablaze with a raging lust for blood. Around him, the sounds of horses’ hooves and the yells of frightened humans mingled. He had to shout to be heard above them. “Drive them out!” he cried.

  The Dragoon leader spurred his horse on toward the scene of terror which was taking place. A man and his wife were running for their lives into the countryside. The man stopped to scoop up his small child, who was crying in fear. Behind them, the Dragoons were wreaking havoc on the humans’ small hut.

  After breakfast, Burke and Virdon went for a swim in the small lake behind Jasko’s house. They were thoroughly enjoying and refreshing themselves. Burke kicked over on his back and sent up a fountain of water from his mouth. Meanwhile, Galen sat at the shore and filled a bucket with water. He dipped a cloth in die water and wiped off his face.

  Virdon made a surface dive and swam under the water until he couldn’t hold his breath any longer. Then he broke back up and gasped air into his aching lungs. He laughed with pleasure. “I sure haven’t had much time to do this since—well—since I was a boy back in Jackson County.”

  Burke splashed some water toward his friend. “Like I said before, there’s nothing like a lake in your backyard.”

  Galen watched the two astronauts cavorting in the water; he shook his head dubiously. He wondered how humans could stand getting all wet, having their hair matted and heavy on their bodies. Of course, humans didn’t have the thick hair that apes had, but still… Galen decided it was just another basic difference between apes and humans, one that he could find it easy to forgive.

  “Backyard?” asked Galen. He looked off toward the cabin. “Jasko’s house must be a half mile away.”

  Burke stood up in a shallow part of the water near the shore. He looked away toward Jasko’s house. “Well,” he said, “so he has a big backyard!”

  “Yes, certainly,” said Galen. “And the next thing you’ll say, Pete, is that it goes from here, across the lake, across the hills, right up into Central City to the doorstep of Zaius.”

  “Haven’t you ever seen Zaius and Jasko leaning over the back fence in the morning?” asked Burke. “They swap recipes and show each other pictures of their kids.”

  Galen frowned. “There are some things that you shouldn’t make jokes about,” he said. “Zaius and Jasko, indeed.”

  “You started it,” said Burke, flicking a few drops of water toward their chimpanzee friend. Galen ducked away. “You know,” said Virdon, “you should let us teach you to swim sometime, Galen.”

  “Yeah,” said Burke, “who knows? You might even learn to like it.”

  “It is a useful thing to know,” said Virdon.

  “No, thank you,” said Galen. “I get all of the water I want out of a bucket.” The chimpanzee smiled. Virdon and Burke returned his smile. There was a moment of lazy peace. Then Galen seemed to freeze; he had heard something again. “Look!” he cried, pointing toward Jasko’s house.

  Virdon and Burke followed Galen’s gesture and saw a group of ape horsemen moving down the road toward Jasko’s house. Though barely distinguishable at that distance to the human astronauts, Galen muttered “Dragoons!”

  Virdon watched the mounted apes for a few seconds. Finally he could make out the horrible leather masks, and the rifles the apes carried. “Dragoons,” he repeated. He and Burke moved as quickly as they could to the shore. Galen edged behind a bush, keeping his eyes riveted on the attackers.

  The Dragoons stopped for a moment about a hundred yards down the road from Jasko’s house. The leader leaned over the flank of his horse to give instructions to his followers; neither Burke nor Virdon, nor even Galen, could hear his words. The Dragoons lit the torches they carried, kicked up their horses, and rode steadfastly toward Jasko’s house. They shouted as they came closer, and they held their blazing torches high. The pounding hoofbeats, the clatter of rifles, and the metal parts of their gear made a fearsome racket.

  The noise brought Jasko to his door. He had been washing, and water still dripped from his face. He dried his hands on a coarse towel, staring for a moment at the mounted apes. Then Jasko reached for a wooden pitchfork that leaned against the house. The Dragoons paid little attention, but galloped menacingly into his yard.

  Jasko called out to them, but his words were drowned out by the apes. He took a step toward them, his pitchfork held out defiantly. He showed no sign at all of cowering. He was defending his home and his life, and he would not be robbed of either without a fight.

  Burke and Virdon were at the edge of the lake, still wet and donning quickly their rough-woven trousers. As soon as they had dressed, they raced madly for the house. Galen came out from his place of concealment and followed them.

  The Dragoons were stamping about the yard on their horses, doing petty and insulting things. One Dragoon was scattering Jasko’s few animals; the ape’s horse shied away from a chicken and accidentally killed another. The ape, who hated humans principally for their bloodthirsty ways among themselves, with apes, and with other animals, never noticed what he had done. Another Dragoon used the butt of his rifle to smash Jasko’s small shed, spilling the seed and grain across the yard.

  The leader of the Dragoons reined up to face the defiant Jasko. “You have one minute to clear out, human!” shouted the masked ape.

  Jasko spat at the Dragoon leader. “No!” he said gruffly. “I will not leave. This is my home!”

  “Then watch it burn!” The Dragoon leader signalled with his hand. A Dragoon spurred his horse forward, closer to the house, and stood in his stirrups to toss his torch onto the roof.

  “No!” cried Jasko, horrified at what the ape was about to do, but still unafraid to accept the consequences of his actions. He charged the Dragoon and knocked him from his saddle. The torch hit the ground. While the Dragoon and Jasko struggled in the dust, the leader of the masked apes whirled a rope and lassoed Jasko. Then, spurring his horse, the Dragoon leader dragged Jasko across the ground. The leader’s actions caused his followers to compete in a flurry of terror tactics. A torch was thrown onto the roof, another tossed inside the house. A cart was pulled over, broken up, and thrown into the growing fire. Flames erupted, consuming the entire structure in a matter of moments. Jasko was dragged back and forth through the melee.

  Virdon, Burke, and Galen reached the house. The horror of the situation registered quickly. “Jasko!” shouted Virdon. His cry was drowned out by the raucous and chaotic destruction that was happening.

  Slowly, the Dragoons regrouped a little way from the blazing cabin. Their energies had been spent, and there was nothing left to be broken. The totality of their fury had been spent. The Dragoon leader reined up with Jasko still in tow. The human did not move. The leader dragged the still body once more across the yard, then raised his rifle to the sky. “This is a lesson for all humans!” he shouted. His voice was almost choked with hatred.

  Then, abruptly, with a laugh, the Dragoon leader tossed the rope aside. He spurred his horse and galloped off, followed by his troops; one chimpanzee Dragoon, however, wheeled his horse and surveyed the scene before he thundered off in pursuit of his leader. Virdon thought that the Dragoon might have caught his eye, but if that had been the case, the chimpanzee Dragoon would have signalled his comrades to return. Instead, the Dragoon shook his rifle at the still-burning cabin and rode away.

  The dust of the departing Dragoons had not yet settled when Virdon, Burke, and Galen ran into the yard. They stopped short when they saw Jasko lying in the dirt a few yards away. Virdon went to the man and knelt by him.

  “How is he?” asked Burke.

  Virdon glanced up. “He’s dead, Pete,” he said quietly.

  Burke and Galen stood over him, their faces wearing expressions of grief and frustration. Virdon looked up at them; the
re was no need to say anything.

  “We’ve got to stop all of this,” said Virdon grimly. “Somehow there must be a way.”

  Burke nodded. There was a painful silence. “This whole thing started when that ape girl’s father was murdered,” said Burke, trying to put the situation in perspective, trying to find a key to its solution. “Alan, I don’t know. It’s a long shot, but suppose we try to find the killers and get the whole thing back into a framework of justice, instead of vigilantism. That could do it.”

  Virdon considered the idea for a moment. He stood up and took a long, deep breath. “It’s a chance, Pete,” he said, staring down at Jasko’s corpse.

  “But where?” asked Galen, “How? What do we do first?”

  “We only have one lead,” said Virdon. “The girl, herself. Maybe she could be of help to us. That’s the only thing we have to turn to now.”

  * * *

  Virdon and Burke crouched in hiding behind the cover of some large boulders. While they hid, Galen talked to an ape farmer in an open field a short distance from the farmer’s house. Galen had interrupted the farmer’s plowing; an ox and a crude plow waited nearby. The farmer pointed off behind Galen. The chimpanzee thanked the farmer and left; the farmer went back to his work, forgetting about Galen almost instantly. Galen joined his human companions behind the boulders.

  Burke turned to him. “Any luck?” he asked urgently.

  “I think so,” said Galen, nodding. “At least, he told me where we can find her.”

  “Well,” said Virdon, “that’s a start. I wish I had a better idea of what we’re going to do after we do find her.”

  They moved away from their place of concealment, silently and carefully, without arousing the attention of the ape farmer. Galen led the way in the direction the farmer had indicated.

  They walked up a path along the side of a grassy hill. At the top was a lone grave. The ape girl, Fauna, was kneeling at the gravesite with some flowers in her hand. Virdon, Burke, and Galen crested the hill and stopped when they caught sight of her. Virdon and Burke ducked back down out of sight. “Wait here,” said Galen. “I’ll talk to her.” He took a step forward; his foot snapped a twig. The cracking sound was magnified by the silence of the place.