by Titan Books
“Yes,” said Virdon softly, painfully. The woman was not begging or pleading with him. She was simply reciting the facts of the matter. That she could so coldly accept things as they were made the horror even more intense for Virdon. While he stared at her lovely though dirt-streaked face, his ankle gave way. He fell, and the woman instinctively reached out to hold his arm, to catch him. Again, Virdon looked into her eyes. He could not tell if there was anything there beyond instinct, impulsive reactions, thoughtless actions based on need and want.
The woman waved Virdon back. The man pressed himself into the shallow cover of the doorway. The woman curled herself into the depression in the rubble. The Sergeant of the gorilla guards and his men, dismounted, ran through the alleyway. When they reached the mouth of the narrow passage, they had not spotted anything. Virdon let his breath out in a quiet sigh. The woman near him signalled that they were not safe yet. Neither human moved.
The boy, in plain view on the mound of rubble, turned to face the guards. “Sergeant,” he said boldly.
The gorillas grabbed the boy roughly and pulled him down from his spy position. “A human boy,” said one of the gorillas. “A filthy human boy, a stinking animal.”
“If you let us have food, if you let us have decent homes, we wouldn’t stink,” said the boy. “If you let us have water.”
“No one is holding you here against your will,” said the ape sergeant. “You could journey to one of the farming communities and grow food for yourself and your ape masters. You could travel to Central City itself and become whatever the Supreme Council decided you were fit for.”
“To travel, I have to have food,” said the boy. “I couldn’t live three days on the road. I don’t have food, water, or even identification. If I left this forbidden zone, I would end up in an ape prison.”
The Sergeant laughed, a harsh, raucous sound in the stillness of the ruined city. “Then you would be fed,” he said at last.
“Until I was executed,” said the boy, with a wisdom that came from experience beyond his few years.
“Of course,” said the Sergeant. “There is that to consider. But you still have a free choice.”
“I could tell you something you’d like to know,” said the boy.
“Your name,” said the Sergeant. “I will conduct the interrogation.”
“I am called Kraik,” said the boy. “But you won’t ask the right questions. I have something you’d really be interested in.”
“Yes?” said the Sergeant.
Kraik hesitated for a moment, looking back toward the doorway where Virdon still hid, unable to hear the gorillas and the boy. “It’s worth a lot,” said Kraik.
“Your idea of what is worth a lot, and mine, are quite different,” said the Sergeant. “Also, your idea of ‘a lot’ and mine, aren’t the same, either.”
“Well,” said Kraik, smiling confidently, “let’s start trading. This part is fun.”
“This part will be short,” said the Sergeant, suddenly angry for letting this human boy speak to him on equal terms. “This part will not be fun. And if you do not have anything very interesting, this part will be fatal. For you.”
“Isn’t it always?” said Kraik with a shrug. One of the gorilla guards slapped the young boy hard, across the face, for speaking with such disrespect to a sergeant of General Urko’s guards.
“How much is what you have to tell me worth?” asked the Sergeant, his teeth clenched in hatred.
Kraik shrugged. He did not seem to have noticed the blow from the gorilla guard, nor the atmosphere of potential danger that the interview had suddenly taken. “Two days’ food,” he said simply.
The Sergeant turned away, frowning. He would not be treated in so impudent a manner by any human. This young human could die before the Sergeant would give him two days’ food, for any reason.
“One day, then?” came the response from Kraik, whose voice, for the first time, showed the hope and longing he had hidden in his expression.
The Sergeant turned back to face the boy.
* * *
“What’s happening out there?” asked Virdon, pressed against the door, only slightly protected by the small entryway.
“Nothing that I didn’t expect,” said the woman, her voice flat and emotionless.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Virdon. Before the woman could reply, the man could hear the heavy steps of the gorillas running back up the alley toward them. “Did the boy—” He never finished the question. The gorillas saw the blond man and grabbed him, dragging him through the rubble. Virdon tried to fight them off; any single gorilla was more than a match for the astronaut. The gorillas had the strength of three men, and here was a sergeant and a squad of subordinates. It did not take them long to overwhelm Virdon.
A few moments later, the squad dragged Virdon and the woman to the mouth of the alley. “It’s over,” said the woman.
“I’m sorry,” said Virdon, horrified at what he had brought on her.
“I’ll be all right,” said the woman. “These guards know me. They know that I can’t possibly be of any danger to them. But you’re a stranger. And that’s the worst thing in the world to be.”
“It always is,” murmured Virdon. “Any time. Any place.”
“I’m sorry, too,” said the woman. “I’m sorry for you.”
“Thank you, uh,” said Virdon, realizing that he didn’t know her name.
“I am Arn,” she said simply.
“I am Alan Virdon.”
“Not for much longer,” said the Sergeant. “Now shut up.”
While the gorillas marched Virdon and Arn toward the main street, they were watched by Kraik. The boy stood to one side, not in the least remorseful about what he had done. Hunger is a powerful force. Kraik knew that there was a point when he would do anything for food—anything. He was starving; he was at that point now. He had always been at that point, on the verge of death by starvation.
As the Sergeant, the gorillas, and their prisoners passed the boy, the Sergeant took a leather pouch from his belt and tossed it to Kraik. The boy’s eyes opened wide and he dove for the pouch, not minding the cuts and bruises he took as he scrambled down a mound of debris. He picked up the pouch eagerly and opened it to see what his reward was. The Sergeant directed his men to drag Arn and Virdon away. Arn was protesting that she had done nothing, that she had not helped this stranger, but the gorillas, in their stupid way, would not listen, although they very likely knew that what she said was the truth.
Kraik scurried up the street to find a new hiding place, in case other humans had seen what had happened and were planning to steal his find. He found one of his favorite places of concealment and settled down. He swept away some rubble and lay back contentedly. He opened the pouch, took out some dried vegetables, and eagerly, hungrily, began to cram his mouth full.
2
The day passed. Virdon and Arn had been taken into custody, and Galen and Burke had followed their own separate routes to safety. Now the sun had set, and the ruined city took on shadows and moonlit shapes from the tormented nightmares of crazed minds. Burke and Galen had worked their way back to the Institute, the assigned meeting place. They waited, during long, tense hours. They waited, but Virdon did not arrive.
The human and the chimpanzee sat on the floor, their backs against one of the Institute’s crumbling walls. Neither moved for a long while, evidently lost in their separate trains of thought. Galen showed signs of irritability, however. Moonlight shone through a window opening and glinted on his leather gloves as he smacked a fist into his other palm.
“What are we supposed to do?” said Galen, breaking the long silence. “Sit here and wait? There’s got to be something more we can do!”
Burke sighed. The chimpanzee did not feel any differently than Burke himself; but Galen had never taken training such as the astronauts had. Discipline was the most important thing, now. As much as he wanted to go out searching for Virdon, Burke knew that was the worst
thing, the most impractical thing, to do. “There is something more we can do,” he said to the impatient Galen. “We can sit and wait here some more.”
Galen looked sharply over his shoulder and glared at the human. “That won’t help Alan,” he said angrily.
“Look at it this way, hotshot,” said Burke, wearily closing his eyes and rubbing them with one hand, “when you joined this outfit, you got stuck with obeying orders from the officer in command. That’s Alan Virdon. It’s that simple.”
Galen stood and went to the window, through which the moon was beaming brightly. He accidentally kicked a large chunk of masonry. The stone set up a loud, echoing clatter in the room. Galen swore softly under his breath. He turned around and faced Burke coldly. “I don’t take orders,” he said.
“Then why are you waiting around here?” asked Burke, laughing.
“There is a difference,” said Galen, sulkily. “I wouldn’t expect your human-educated mind to appreciate the difference. I accept suggestions.”
“Your whole ape world is concerned with prestige,” said Burke. “Urko and Zaius, right at the top. You and me, here at the bottom. It may be the one thing that keeps you from ever coming close to our level of civilization.”
“This is your level of civilization,” said Galen, indicating the ruined Institute and, beyond, the rotting, dead, crumbling city.
Burke had no answer for a moment. “Okay,” he said finally, “Alan suggested we sit tight and wait for twenty-four hours.”
Galen began pacing across the littered chamber. “Think, Pete,” he said. “This is Alan. He is my friend. He has been your friend for even longer. And now he’s in the hands of the gorillas. He could be in a cell somewhere. They could be delivering him to General Urko. He could be wounded, badly hurt…”
“Or look at it the other way. He could have gotten away, the way we did. He could be laying low, waiting for a chance to get back here. Now, what would he do if he got here and we were gone, out looking for him?”
“Do you believe that?” asked Galen impatiently.
“No,” said Burke softly. “But I’m trying. Galen, I got news for you. It’s liable to be a long, cold night.” The chimpanzee only nodded and sat down again, huddling against the rough, damp wall of the former Scientific Institute. Together, in silence, the oddly-matched friends waited.
* * *
Morning came to the Central City of the apes. Human slaves bustled on their ways to and from assignments. Middle class apes opened their shops for the day. The orangutans, the leaders, sat down for a day’s bureaucratic shuffling. The chimpanzees, the thinkers of the ape world, took up their studies or began their office hours as professors, lawyers, or doctors. And the gorillas, the armed, hostile gorillas, patrolled and guarded against nothing. There were no dangers, none other than the ones that General Urko created to keep his minions sharp.
Morning saw the leader of the apes’ Supreme Council of Elders, Dr. Zaius, and the leader of the gorilla forces, General Urko, leaving the Central City just as the sun tipped the eastern horizon. They rode with a few of Urko’s underlings for protection. Some time later, they arrived at the forbidden city, the deserted, decaying buildings, the rubble-strewn streets, the awful stench, the paralyzing, total silence of the place. The face of death.
The guards who daily patrolled the area had their headquarters in a building that had not been as damaged as its neighbors. Outside, a gorilla stood sentry duty. Urko and Zaius rode up to the building, dismounted, and quickly moved to the main entrance of the gorilla headquarters. The sentry snapped to attention when he recognized his commanding general and the leader of the Supreme Council.
“I don’t think we have to hurry so quickly,” said Zaius, panting from the pace Urko had set. “Not if your guards are as good as you tell me they are.”
“They are good,” said Urko. “But why shouldn’t we hurry? Isn’t this the answer to our problems? Both of ours?”
“Perhaps,” said Zaius.
“You say ‘perhaps’,” said Urko. “Gorillas say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”
“You can’t be wrong with ‘perhaps’,” said Zaius gently.
“You can’t be right, either.” Urko opened the door and moved past Zaius into the hallway inside. A gorilla guarded a door further along the hallway. He was lounging against the wall, sloppy in posture and uniform. In an open office, the Sergeant and his Captain were sitting around a small table, one drinking from a wooden cup, the other playing a curious ape game, a kind of solitaire requiring a wooden board with diagonal marks making diamond-shape spaces. The gorilla played with small pebbles, some dark-colored and some light. At the sound of Urko and Zaius’ footsteps, the gorilla guard in the hallway turned to see who was coming. When he recognized the important visitors, he reacted visibly, snapping to attention. “Attention!” he called out, to alert the officers in the ward room. The guard briskly shouldered his rifle, which had been leaning against the wall. The Sergeant and the Captain hurried to rise, brushing the board and pebbles to the floor so they wouldn’t be noticed. Before they had a chance to further correct the appearance of the office or their own uniforms, Zaius and Urko swept into the small room.
“Well,” said Urko, “I’ll wager that you weren’t expecting a visit from the commander-in-chief today, were you?”
“No, sir,” said the Captain, barely able to speak. He and the Sergeant were frightened and awed by their two visitors.
“I’ll wager that you didn’t ever expect to see me at all, at any time? Correct? That you would just go along in this pitiable forbidden place, running your own show like some feudal landowner.”
The Captain did not answer.
“That’s all very well,” said Urko. “I understand what it must be like out here. And if it weren’t for your prize, you could have done just as you planned. And if things work out to our, uh, satisfaction, you may continue.”
“The General is very gracious,” said the Captain.
“No, I’m not,” said Urko, suddenly surly. “I just want results. I don’t care how you live out here, as long as I get my results. And I’m here, and I want something, and if you want to see nightfall, you’d better supply me with what I want.”
“The General is not gracious,” said Zaius with some amusement, “but he is effective.”
Urko turned abruptly to Zaius. “And which would you rather be?” he asked. Zaius only shrugged. Urko examined the Captain and Sergeant more closely. He turned and looked outside, into the hallway, where the guard had already relaxed again. “Your command could use some drill, Captain,” said Urko. “Live your feudal dream, but don’t let your troops become useless to you. If that happens, you will become useless to me. And when my officers become useless, they become dead.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the Captain, his words faint, “we didn’t expect a visit from the Military Commander and the Chief Minister.”
“Are you offering me that as some kind of an excuse?” roared Urko.
The Captain said nothing; his face showed intense humiliation.
“You’re a detachment of gorillas,” said Urko. “I expect you to bear some resemblance to my guidelines.”
“Couldn’t you postpone that discussion?” asked Zaius calmly. “I don’t share your interest in drill and discipline.”
“Drill and discipline keep you safe,” said Urko roughly.
“Someday, let us get together about that,” said Zaius, walking idly about the small office. “I’d like to know what you are keeping us safe from.” He wearily shook his head.
“You know as well as I do,” said Urko, through clenched teeth. “Otherwise, would you have taken this long ride with me today?”
“I’ll concede that point,” said Zaius. “But, Urko, we have had a long ride. It’s almost noon, already.”
Urko just looked at Zaius, without saying anything. He wanted to make the orangutan ask for anything he wanted. He wanted to prove that Zaius was, in fact, weaker than Urko. Zaius unde
rstood what Urko’s strategy was, but he didn’t especially care. Who could see this minuscule struggle of personalities? The Captain and the Sergeant? They were Urko’s men already. What did Urko have to gain? Pride. Well, thought Zaius, pride is something I do not need. Urko can have all he wants. Someday he’ll choke on it.
“My good General,” said Zaius, “once we’ve dispensed with our ideological differences, and you’ve properly established yourself as the sole dictator of your forces, then I think we can get on with what we came here for. I’m tired. Let’s get this over with.”
Urko gave Zaius an ugly look, but turned away to face the Captain. “Bring the prisoner,” he said.
The Captain nodded, then saluted, then said “yes, sir,” unsure which, if any, response was proper. He was glad to get out of the office. When he left, the sergeant followed him, although there was no reason for the gorilla to go. He wanted to escape Urko’s scrutiny as badly as the Captain did.
* * *
The long, cold night had stretched on, hour after hour. The discomfort was increased by the inability of Burke and Galen to guess what had happened to their friend. They awoke from light sleep at daylight, stiff and hungry. Galen went to the window. Sunlight cast light on the scene outside, but little warmth as yet. Galen huddled within the heavy leather tunic he wore. Burke, wearing only the rough homespun material of the humans, suffered more with the early chill, but he did not complain.
“Isn’t it twenty-four hours yet?” asked Galen.
Burke joined his chimpanzee friend at the window. He looked up at the sky, then back at Galen. “Almost,” said Burke. “It’s been almost a day. A couple of hours yet, I think.”
“He’s not coming back!” cried Galen.
Burke thought about how Galen’s outlook had changed during the preceding months. Before Galen had met the astronauts he, like the other apes in the world, thought of humans as a lesser species of animal, something to be tolerated and used as slave labor. Humans could not have creative ability, for their intelligence was severely limited. Humans were needlessly violent. Humans were dirty. Humans were—the list went on and on. But in their mutual adventures, Galen had learned more and more about what humans could be like, if given the chance. And now, wonder upon wonders, Galen considered the two astronauts—the two humans—his friends. This alone branded Galen a renegade among his own people. He had few friends except the two humans who joined him in his travels.