Planet of the Apes Omnibus 3

by Titan Books

  Urko was persistent. “Was his owner riding him at the time?”

  Burke adopted a casual attitude. “Come to think of it,” he said slowly, “he was. He’s probably got himself quite a headache.”

  Urko was silent for several seconds, his expression thoughtful. He knew Burke, and he knew that the three fugitives would not likely split up except under the most unusual circumstances. Lacking any understanding of the present situation, Urko turned his attention to the evidence at hand. He examined the horse Burke had been riding. “It’s a handsome animal,” he said, musing. “It’s obviously a horse that belongs to an official.” He thought for a while longer, then raised his voice to one of the guards waiting nearby. “Any identification in the saddlebags?”

  The guard came to attention at the sound of Urko’s voice. He made no reply. He was as silent as a statue, a statue of a very well-drilled, well-disciplined soldier.

  “Well?” asked Urko impatiently. “I didn’t ask for a demonstration of your training. I want an answer. Now.”

  “We haven’t yet checked the saddlebags, General,” said the gorilla in a slightly timorous voice.

  “You haven’t checked them,” said Urko quietly. Then his expression changed to a snarl and he roared, “Why not?”

  “We were waiting for an order, sir,” replied the thoroughly frightened soldier. “We did not know if that was what you desired.”

  “Do you have to order them to blink, too, General, sir?” asked Burke mockingly.

  “I am surrounded by incompetents!” cried Urko, slapping a gauntleted fist against a leather-clad thigh. “Check them now! Instantly!”

  “Yes, sir!” cried the guard, who hurried off to comply with General Urko’s wishes.

  Burke turned to watch the operation. Urko stared sullenly. The first guard ran to the horse, while another guard held the reins in case the animal should shy away. The first guard rummaged for a moment in the saddlebags, finally coming up with the wrapped bundle and the folded letter which Virdon had placed there.

  “We’re getting some place at last,” muttered Urko.

  “If only you’d let me give you some advice,” said Burke. “We humans were in the same place about five, hundred years before I was born.”

  “I could give you some advice, Burke,” growled Urko. “That’s the kind of talk that’s making me hunt you and your friends from one district to another.”

  “Is that why?” asked Burke innocently. “I thought it was just a parking violation.”

  Meanwhile, the guard had run up to Urko with the contents of the saddlebag. Urko removed the wrapping from the bundle. The bright sun glittered, off a small but hefty bar of pure gold. The flickers of reflected light gleamed in the polished leather of Urko’s uniform and shone in the deep, dark wells that were his eyes. “Gold?” he asked. “This interests me.”

  “If I had known about that, I might just have run off and bought myself a farm somewhere,” said Burke.

  Urko was not really listening. “Humans cannot own farms,” he said curtly.

  “Not in your world,” said Burke. “But your world can’t be the whole world.”

  “Be quiet, Burke,” said Urko gruffly. “Well, well. This makes everything so much more enjoyable. Here,” he said to the guard, “put this gold in my tent. Wait, let me see that paper.” The guard handed Urko the letter, took back the gold, and hurried toward the general’s private tent.

  “It seems to be an official thing,” said Burke, trying to needle Urko even more by pretending innocent helpfulness. “There’s a seal on it.”

  Urko didn’t notice Burke’s tactic, so engrossed was he in the matter. “I know what it is!” he said. He inspected the seal for a moment. “Hmmm. Prefect Aboro’s seal.”

  “Aboro?” said Burke. “Isn’t he that gorilla who has that terrific collection of jokes about you and—”

  Urko had ceased paying any attention at all to Burke. Eagerly, he ripped open the sealed letter, totally ignoring Burke’s opinion that Urko was tampering with the mails. Urko unfolded the parchment. He read it through quickly, then read it again. For a moment, it looked as if Urko were about to crush the letter in his huge hand, but he did not. There was a silence. Then Urko looked up at Burke with narrowed eyes. His voice was filled with hatred. “You say you knew nothing of this letter?” he said.

  Burke shook his head, his eyes wide with innocence. “What do you think I was doing last night?” he asked. “I was in a hurry, remember? I didn’t think about riffling around in the saddlebags on the horse! I just wanted the horse. I had one of your patrols on my tail. Besides, what do I have to do with ape letters?”

  Urko was buying nothing, neither Burke’s protestations of good faith nor the possibility that the human was telling the truth. There was a great deal at stake; when the game became so important, Urko became cautious. That was how he had made his reputation and his career and it was how he kept them both intact.

  “What indeed?” pondered the ape general. He raised the parchment letter again and read aloud. “‘To Amhar of the village of Loban. Urko dinner tonight at nine. Be here one hour earlier for final instructions. Aboro.’” The message obviously upset Urko. Being a gorilla and of a similar temperament to Aboro, Urko was fairly certain that he knew what those “final instructions” would be. Fortunately, though, the letter had been intercepted. If what Burke said was the truth, then Urko had managed to save his own life and had detected an important traitor in his chain of command. If Burke was telling the truth.

  The entire situation was too deadly, too filled with danger to permit a quick decision. Yet time was running out quickly. General Urko realized that he had come to one of the major crises of his life. And he had very little idea of how to continue. “Kronak!” he called.

  Another gorilla guard stepped forward and saluted. He placed his rifle smartly on the ground, its butt pressed next to his boot. “General?” he asked.

  “Does the name Amhar mean anything to you?” demanded Urko in a surly voice.

  Kronak the guard was silent for a moment, thinking. Like the others of his kind, his memory was slow and dull. Then he answered. “Yes, General,” he said. “There is a human known as Amhar who is believed to be a hired killer.”

  Urko stared at Kronak, but made no sound. He waved the gorilla guard away before the subordinate could see that Urko was clearly displeased and worried. Kronak went back to his duties, and Urko stared into the distance, lost in thought.

  “Sounds like this Aboro’s planned quite a dinner for you, Urko,” said Burke in a light voice.

  “Silence, you,” snapped Urko.

  “Yes, sir,” said Burke. “I understand that you need time to consider these latest developments.”

  Urko began pacing again, his face twisted in a frown that displayed varying emotions as his thoughts changed. From the look on his face, none of those thoughts could have been pleasant. “All right,” he said, more to himself than to anyone nearby, “it must be that Aboro is summoning this human on another matter altogether.” He slapped the letter.

  Burke laughed quietly. “I don’t understand how someone as sharp as you are can keep coming up with the wrong answers, Urko.”

  “What is the right answer, then, human?”

  Burke spoke casually. “Maybe it’s just that Aboro wants your job.”

  Urko glowered at Burke with an expression of pure hatred. “There is more here than you can know,” said the gorilla chieftain. “You don’t have the facts in the matter.”

  “Neither do you,” said Burke. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be jumping around like a frightened rabbit.”

  “I have had gorillas shot for repeating insults lighter than that in my hearing,” said Urko.

  “Maybe that’s why this Amhar is dining with Aboro before you get there tonight,” said Burke.

  “One thing that you don’t understand, human,” said Urko through clenched jaws, “is that there is a bond of honor among gorillas. Among all apes. That is w
hat sets us apart from human beings. That is what makes us superior. We are creatures of intellect, strength, and integrity. It would take a human mind to devise a scheme as odious as the one you suggest.”

  “Oh, come on!” said Burke. “Let me ask you this. Weren’t there gorillas ahead of you in the chain of command at one time? Or were you born a general?”

  “Of course, there were gorillas more important than me,” said Urko.

  “And did they all retire? Did they all die natural deaths?” asked Burke.

  Urko was close to strangling Burke. The rage mounted in the general until he could barely control it. But the truth was clear to Urko and Burke; the situation that Urko faced was possibly fatal for the gorilla general, and that matter took priority. Urko tried to make one last effort to dismiss the matter from his own mind. “Aboro is an old friend!” he said. “One of my dearest companions from childhood. And gorillas do have depths of loyalty that your filthy human mind could never understand.”

  “Anything you say,” said Burke wearily.

  Urko looked up at Burke again, with an evil smile, creasing his ugly face. “But we’ve strayed from the main subject, haven’t we, Burke?”

  Burke gave Urko a puzzled look.

  “The subject of your punishment, of course!” said Urko, almost laughing aloud. He turned to one of the waiting apes and gave the order in a hard voice. “Take him out and shoot him!”

  “Hold it!” cried Burke, suddenly galvanized, realizing that his delaying tactic had failed and that more drastic action was called for.

  * * *

  Virdon and Galen were nearby, as they had promised, watching the entire scene. It had played almost exactly as they had planned, up until the moment when Urko disregarded the note and ordered that Burke be taken away and killed. That had very definitely not been in their plans. From their place of concealment along the camp’s perimeter, they could hear every, word spoken between Burke and Urko.

  “The whole thing’s backfired,” said Galen.

  “You are so right,” said Virdon grimly, taking out a pistol; he checked to see that it was loaded, then lifted it and aimed it directly at Urko’s chest. Suddenly, however, he stopped dead. The gun wavered slightly in his grasp.

  “No one has told me to ‘hold it’ in a good many years,” said Urko dangerously. “The last time, as I recall, the unfortunate ape who said those words died rather suddenly. A lack of communication between his heart and his brain. A bloody one.”

  Burke was too deeply involved to be put off by Urko’s grim memories. “Let’s you and me make a deal,” he said.

  Urko sneered. “A deal with a condemned human?” he said.

  Burke sighed. “I am about to be killed, right?”

  “Correct,” said Urko. “You’re just starting to come to your senses. How tragically late for you.”

  “My point is that I have nothing to lose,” said Burke. “If I can offer you enough to keep me alive, I have everything to gain. I can be a lot of help to you, Urko. Maybe you’ve never seen that before, but it’s true. Look, you’re not all that sure about Aboro, never mind all that stuff you were telling me about loyalty among apes. Don’t bother to answer, let me talk. Suppose he does intend to have you killed? You’ll never know unless you let him meet with the hired killer.”

  Urko stared. Some of what Burke said was sensible enough. Mostly, though,” it sounded to the general like the half-mad ravings of a doomed human. He had heard that kind of nonsense often enough in his career. “And of course I am foolish enough to allow that and give Aboro a chance to have me killed,” he said. “If he is planning all this, which frankly I still doubt.”

  Burke knew that he had begun to win an advantage, that his arguments were beginning to have an effect on Urko’s reasoning. Urko was the most intelligent of his gorilla comrades, but even so the general was slow to change his ideas. Burke had to press on. “Maybe you doubt and maybe you don’t. But I’ll bet you never get another good night’s sleep until you find out the truth, once and for all!”

  Urko took up his pacing once more. There was so much to consider, and Burke was just an annoying complication. “And so, human,” said Urko, staring at the parchment in his hand, “I send on this message and allow the killer to meet with Aboro? Is that the foolish idea you’re suggesting?”

  “No, Urko,” said Burke, beginning to sound slightly exasperated at the gorilla’s lack of imagination. “You allow me!”

  There was a stunned silence. Urko could only look blankly at the agitated prisoner. In the shrubbery around the edge of the camp, Virdon and Galen heard Burke’s words and were equally surprised. They were dumbfounded by the dark-haired astronaut’s quick thinking and a little unsure about what he meant to do. Like Urko, they could only listen and hope to discover his plan.

  Burke continued talking, not letting Urko voice an objection, not letting the gorilla leader have a few moments to dismiss the whole situation, have Burke killed, and take his entire entourage back to Central City. After all, if he could have Augustus transferred to nowhere, he could have Aboro sent less than nowhere just as simply, and the whole question would be easily settled. Burke didn’t want Urko to have the opportunity to make that decision. “I play Amhar!” he said. “And all it costs you is my freedom. You can see how I stand to gain. What have you got to lose?”

  Urko grimaced. “You for one,” he said.

  “You’ve done that before,” said Burke.

  “If you’re trying to convince me of something,” said Urko, “you’re going about it the wrong way.”

  “My point is that our paths, thanks, to your diligence, seem to cross at fairly regular intervals,” said Burke.

  “Once ought to be enough,” said Urko.

  “Aw, admit it,” said Burke with a forced laugh. “You’d, miss the thrill of the chase.”

  “I have other things to chase.”

  “Look,” said Burke, “nobody but you knows you’ve caught me. You and your guards, that is. And they won’t open their mouths if you tell them not to.”

  “That is the first true thing you’ve uttered,” said Urko. He looked around again at his gorilla troopers. They all remained at their stations, their rifles unslung, their expressions empty. They existed only to fill Urko’s orders.

  “It’s the second fact,” said Burke. “The first was that you’ll never rest easy again until you know that letter means nothing or you have your proof against Aboro.”

  It was clear that Urko was weakening quickly. The silence this time was filled with his muttering growl. Burke couldn’t make out any specific words, although the rhythm of the phrases sounded to the astronaut like curses. It didn’t make any difference. The solution to the matter would come quickly enough. “And for this peace of mind you’re granting me, you want what? Your freedom again? No perpetual guarantees? No official pardons?”

  “I don’t think you’d honor them, anyway,” said Burke. At Urko’s darkening glance, the man hurried to explain. I mean, I respect your devotion to duty too much to think that you’d just forget about me and my buddies.”

  “You are right again.”

  “And if I’m right so often lately, maybe you ought to give some genuine consideration to my plan,” said Burke. “Let me loose after I pretend to be your killer. And give me a couple of hours start. That’s all I’m asking. Just fair sport, Urko. You could have me hogtied again by tomorrow night, if you work fast.”

  Urko took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked over his shoulder at his troopers. “Go on, find something to do,” he ordered them. They hurried away, leaving Urko alone with Burke. Even after the gorillas left, the general said nothing for quite some time, studying the human closely, as if he hoped to discover the truth or falsity of Burke’s claim somewhere on the man’s face. Through all of this, Burke did his best to remain passive and calm, although a few drops of perspiration ran slowly down his forehead, maddeningly along the bridge of his nose, and with demonic, ticklish slowness t
o his chin.

  “Very well,” said Urko. “We’ll keep that rendezvous with Prefect Aboro, just to prove you wrong. Then I will have you shot.”

  Burke was about to make a remark about how often he had heard Urko threaten to shoot him. But he caught himself in time and his better sense kept his mouth closed.

  * * *

  Virdon and Galen in the nearby brush let out their long-held breaths in collective sighs of relief. Virdon turned to the chimpanzee and whispered, “Good old Pete! He could con the pearl right out of an oyster! Come on.”

  Together they backed away into the denser underbrush.

  * * *

  Behind the gray hills in the distance, the orange ball of the sun was beginning to light flames which, later, would reach into the sky as the brilliant dying embers of sunset. The valley which comprised the district governed by Aboro was already beginning to darken in the first faint touches of dusk. One bright star hung low in the sky. The sounds of daylight birds and animals were fading with the light. Night was coming quickly on.

  Activity in the valley did not cease with the daylight, however. Gorilla patrols still continued their angry pursuit of whatever they decided might be a human crime. The humans themselves were just beginning to hurry home from their laborious daytime occupations to share a few hours of peace with their families and neighbors.

  On the road to the village of Hathor, a slow-moving wagon rumbled its clumsy way among the rustling trees. The wagon was half-filled with supplies and was drawn by an ox. An old human of about sixty years, his hair sparse and white, his face covered with rough stubble, sat on the warped seat and drove his lazy animal. Beside him sat another man, dressed in a dark cloak pulled over his head to shadow his features.

  “You know,” said the old man, “it’s good to have you along, stranger. These trips I make are lonely, taking supplies out to the ape outposts. Weeks go by sometimes without me seeing so much as one other human being. Those that I do see from time to time never have much time to talk, what with all the work their ape masters give them. And the last creature in the world you want to try to talk to is one of those uniformed gorillas. You know what I mean?”