by Titan Books
“No,” said the ape. “But I don’t really need one. I can travel with complete freedom, as long as my true identity is a secret. I can just drop in to the prefect’s office, say hello, tell him that I’m passing through, and maybe learn a little. It all doesn’t have to be done tonight, even though that would be best.”
“Galen, it’s impossible to argue with you,” said Burke.
Would you do it for me,” asked Galen. He turned to Virdon. “I’ll get your disk.”
Galen stepped out into the road and walked to the front door of the prefect’s house. He knocked boldly on the smoothed timber of the door. After a moment, the door was opened by Irnar. “Yes?” he said.
“Good evening,” said Galen. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I have a small problem, and I thought you were the proper ape to notify.”
Irnar’s brow furrowed in a frown. “Yes, yes, of course. Come in,” he said, and Galen followed the prefect into the house. The door shut behind them.
Burke and Virdon watched all of this anxiously. After they saw the door close, they both let out deep sighs, neither of them until then realizing that they had been holding their breath. “Keep your fingers crossed,” said Burke.
The horses in the corral whinnied, somehow still aware of the disturbing influence of Virdon and Burke nearby. Virdon glanced in that direction. “Horses,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe we shouldn’t just be hanging around here, doing nothing. We could be putting ourselves to work, too. If Galen gets in trouble and this thing blows up in our faces, we’ll all have to get out of here fast.”
“I’m glad you still have that devious mind of yours working;” said Burke, nodding. They both headed back toward the corral.
* * *
The interior of Irnar’s office was a combination work space and living room equipped with a desk, bookshelves with a few large books, and a locked cabinet, as well as a few chairs and a number of plants and flowers in odd, handcrafted pots. Irnar sat in a chair behind his desk. He had been listening to Galen’s story, and he looked at the young chimpanzee quizzically. “You say you were thrown by a horse?” he asked. “Where?”
“Out there, somewhere,” said. Galen, pointing off in a vague direction. “I’ve been walking for miles. Believe me, I was absolutely delighted when I saw your village.”
Irnar still studied Galen with a hint of suspicion. “And what were you doing on that horse? ‘Out there’…”
“I’m engaged in scientific exploration,” said Galen smoothly, falling into another role, a task at which he was becoming very skilled. “I’m searching for artifacts of past civilizations.”
Irnar grimaced. “Don’t we have enough trouble coping with our own?” he said dryly.
“I wasn’t exactly sure that we had one,” said Galen.
Irnar glanced at him; his eyes narrowed for a second. Then, suddenly, to Galen’s great relief, the prefect burst into laughter.
“I think I’m going to like you, young chimp,” said Irnar. “Yes, I think I’m going to like you very much, indeed. Would you care for something to drink? You must be thirsty after your long walk!”
“Yes,” said Galen, “thank you.”
“Fine,” said Irnar. “And I think I will join you.” He stood up from behind his desk and went to a wooden cupboard. On a shelf built into the upper part of the cupboard was a collection of bottles and glasses. Irnar searched among the bottles, looking for one in particular. “You know,” he said, his back turned to Galen, “it can be a rather isolated and lonely life here.”
Galen nodded, not thinking that Irnar could not see the nod. He did not answer. He was already looking around the room, searching out the prefect’s personal effects, separating them from Irnar’s official belongings. Galen wondered whether Irnar would be more likely to keep the disk with the personal or the official. Then, something directly in front of him attracted his attention. Galen shifted slightly in his seat and looked around a stack of papers. There, only a few feet from him, was the disk, on Irnar’s desktop.
Irnar’s voice continued, as he clinked a couple of glasses and unstoppered the bottle he had been seeking.
“This is just a village of humans, after all,” he said sadly. Once again, Galen only nodded, his whole concentration on the disk. “A small garrison of gorillas,” said Irnar, finishing his pouring. “But what company are a dozen gorillas?” he asked.
Galen couldn’t take his eyes from the disk. He didn’t dare do anything to attract Irnar’s attention; if he were caught trying to swipe the disk, it might permanently ruin any attempt to get it back and lead to the fugitives’ recapture. Galen knew that he had to play this coolly.
Irnar turned around again, carrying the drinks back to the desk. Galen’s eyes were still on the disk. The prefect kept up his complaint. “You know how crude and uneducated gorillas are. Oh, I have nothing against them, actually. But, truthfully, they have no understanding of beauty or culture.” His voice was full of distaste. “Oh, just a moment,” said Irnar. “I have something that will go well with these drinks.”
The prefect bent down and opened a lower drawer. While he was occupied, Galen shrugged and almost gave in to the temptation. He reached out slowly to pick up the disk. As his hand neared the object, Irnar rose again, bringing with him a box of dried fruit. “I almost forgot I had these,” he said, putting the box on the desk. Galen drew his arm back quickly, unnoticed.
“Do you know,” said Irnar, “I’ve been prefect of this village for twenty-five years? Would you believe that? Twenty-five years, and this dusty town of Kaymak is all I have to show for it. I used to hope for a promotion to District Prefect, but I’ve long since given up that dream. Here, have a drink and some fruit.”
“Thank you,” said Galen, his eyes fastened on the disk.
“Were you traveling alone?” asked Irnar.
“Yes,” said Galen, after a brief hesitation.
“Twenty-five years,” said Irnar musingly. “It’s been that long since I was your, age.” He raised his glass. “To companionship,” he said.
Galen would have liked nothing better than to grab the disk and flee the office, but he knew that was impossible. Instead, he raised his glass in a toast.
* * *
Virdon and Burke moved swiftly along the side of a building, coming to the corner from which they could watch the corral. They looked toward it. Nothing had changed there. The gorilla guard still napped with his back toward them.
“Whew,” said Burke softly. “Are you ready, Alan?”
“Just a second,” said Virdon. He reached down and picked up a length of wood that he could use as a club. “I am now,” he said. “Let’s go.”
* * *
“There is little enough to keep me amused,” said Irnar. “Intellectual stimulation, that’s what is chiefly lacking this far from Central City.” He indicated a rather crude painting that hung on one wall. A flickering lamp nearby made moving shadows over it, so that it took on strange, almost surreal qualities. Galen saw that it was a portrait of Irnar. “Rather nice, isn’t it?” asked Irnar. “One of the humans did it, if you can believe that. Some of them are surprisingly talented. Even artistic, although none of them comes close to what the sophisticated apes in Central City create.”
Galen’s mind was on the disk, and he spent little time examining the portrait. “A human painted this, you say? How interesting.”
Irnar poured himself another drink and walked up to the painting. Galen’s eyes flashed back to the disk. Once again he was stopped before he could take it; Irnar laughed softly, turned again, and sat back down behind his desk. “As a matter of fact,” said the prefect, “I have a theory.” To Galen’s horror, the older chimpanzee idly picked up the disk and swung it on its leather cord. “Put fifty humans in a room,” said Irnar. “Give them all pots of paint and brushes. Give them enough time—oh, years and years, of course—and eventually they’ll duplicate every masterpiece that has ever been painted.” He laughed again at the
wild idea he had just expressed. Irnar seemed to enjoy his own sense of humor greatly.
“What is that?” asked Galen.
The prefect tossed the disk into the air and caught it. He looked at it for several seconds, then grunted. “I found this only recently. I wonder if this could be one of those artifacts you’re looking for.”
Galen tried not to appear too eager. “I don’t know,” he said in a carefully controlled voice. “I’d have to examine it, possibly give it a few tests.”
Irnar looked at it closely again, tossed it into the air, and caught it. “No,” he said, “I don’t think it’s an artifact. It’s much too new. If it belonged to an ancient civilization, it would be all corroded. And I found it lying in the grass near here. I’ve picked up genuine artifacts over the years. Some of them are fascinating.”
Galen was almost hypnotized by Irnar’s disk-tossing. “Are you a collector?” he asked.
“Only an amateur,” said Irnar. “One finds strange things. For example, our ancestors must have been excellent metal-workers. Very advanced in some ways that have been lost to us. And yet, the use to which they put their talents was primitive. I have a weapon I found, evidently a war club. Beautiful workmanship, but the thing would be so inefficient in combat.” Irnar stood and went to the cabinet, holding the disk in one hand. Galen was almost going out of his mind with frustration. The prefect opened one of the doors in the lower part of the cupboard. He reached in and brought out a battered golf club. He carried the ancient artifact back to his desk and passed it over to Galen for the young ape’s inspection.
“Hmm,” said Galen. “I’ve never seen anything quite like this.” The metal of the golf club was pitted with age. To Galen’s more knowledgable eye, the thing was clearly of human manufacture, from the time of Virdon and Burke, rather than from any of the apes’ ancestors. Galen had as little idea of what the golf club could have been used for as Irnar had.
“The quality of that metal is higher than anything we could produce today,” said Irnar. “A lost art. Interesting. But I dare venture to surmise that it was a pitifully inadequate weapon.”
“Yes,” said Galen, “it is interesting.” He handed the golf club back to Irnar. “That disk you’re holding seems to be made of the same material. May I see it?” Galen extended his hand across the desk.
Irnar glanced at Galen quizzically. “You seem especially eager to see this,” said Irnar, swinging the disk on its thong. Any particular reason? I don’t think I want to sacrifice part of my collection in the interests of your science.”
“Just curiosity,” said Galen carefully.
Irnar smiled, walking back to put the golf club away. “That’s, certainly characteristic of us chimpanzees,” he said. He closed the cupboard door and returned to his desk. Well, let‘s both try to restrain our curiosity until a later time.” He opened a locked drawer in his desk, tossed the disk in, shut the drawer, and locked it. Galen felt a sinking feeling, although he knew that all was not yet lost.
“You’ll stay overnight, won’t you?” asked Irnar.
“I’m… not sure,” said Galen, wondering about Virdon and Burke and whether he ought to extend their stay in Kaymak. The longer they remained, the more vulnerable to detection and capture they became.
“Of course you will,” said Irnar. “The chance to talk to someone interesting doesn’t come to me very often. Now that I have you here, I insist that you accept my hospitality, at least tonight. I wouldn’t dream of your leaving. Let me find you a place to sleep. Let’s see. Where can we make you most comfortable?”
* * *
Near the corral, the napping gorilla had entered a deeper level of unconsciousness, thanks to the club wielded by Virdon. Virdon and Burke dragged the guard to one side, out of sight. Virdon picked up the ape’s rifle when he and Burke returned to the gate. Burke unlatched the wooden bolt that held the gate closed. “Shouldn’t we tie him?” asked Burke.
“Nobody’ll find him,” said Virdon. “He won’t be moving for a while.” Without further discussion, the two men entered the corral.
* * *
Irnar was reading a note on his desk. Galen waited patiently. “After all,” said Irnar absently, crumpling the note when he reached its end, “this isn’t Central City. Our accomodations here are simple. Come.”
Galen followed Irnar across the office to the door. Irnar started to open the door. He turned thoughtfully back toward Galen. “There’s so much I’d like to discuss with you,” he said. “So many aspects of culture that—” He broke off at the sound of unusually loud noises coming from the corral.
“What were you saying?” said Galen, hoping to cover the neighing of the disturbed animals.
“Shh,” said Irnar, listening intently. Again there came the anxious whinny of several horses.
* * *
Virdon held one horse by its lead. The animal evidently didn’t like being roused in the night and was unused to humans. It made so much noise that Virdon grew worried. “Come on,” he whispered, “or you’ll wake up the whole village.” He grabbed the lead of another horse as Burke led a third horse toward him. Burke now carried the rifle in his free hand.
The horses reared and whinnied as the two men struggled to lead them out of the corral. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Virdon saw Burke react, startled by something. Virdon’s view was blocked by one of the animals. He could hear Burke’s anxious voice. “Oh, oh,” said Burke.
Virdon moved forward for a better view. Directly in front of them, just beyond the corral gate, were three gorillas, each with a rifle pointed directly at the astronauts. Behind the gorillas and to one side stood Irnar and Galen.
“Out here!” cried the prefect. “Both of you!”
Burke and Virdon had no choice but to drop the reins of the horses. Burke dropped the rifle to the ground. Covered by the weapons of the gorilla guards, they moved out of the corral toward Irnar and Galen. Virdon and Burke looked at Galen, who could do nothing but stare back. It would have been very unwise for either humans or the young chimpanzee to show signs of recognition.
“They’re not from my village,” said Irnar to Galen. “I can assure you of that.” His voice was angry and outraged. “I never have this kind of trouble from my humans.” He turned suddenly, inspired by a thought, to look at Virdon and Burke. “Of course!” he said. “The two outlaws Tolar saw!”
There was no response from the humans. Irnar shrugged. “Your audaciousness has quite disappeared now, hasn’t it?” Again there was no reply. Irnar turned to one of the gorillas. “Put them in the cage!” he ordered.
The gorilla stepped forward, prodding Virdon with his rifle. With one last, hopeless glance toward Galen, the two men were marched away by the gorillas.
Irnar and Galen watched them move away. Irnar smiled at Galen. “Well, now,” said the prefect. “As long as we’re here, perhaps you’d like to choose a horse. I’d like to give you one, but you know that even a prefect has his expenses. But my price will be minimal, for such a friend as you.”
“Thank you,” said Galen in a dull voice. He was still watching his friends being led away. Irnar, who had already turned toward the horses in the corral, did not notice Galen’s behavior.
6
The countryside had returned to its peaceful state, despite the intrusions by humans and apes. Virdon, Burke, and Galen had not changed anything in their passage from one village to another except, perhaps, the lives of a few, individuals they met along the way. The countryside, however, was untouchable; as soon as the transients disappeared, the wooded, rural scene smoothed itself with silence and tranquillity.
Just as surely, though, that atmosphere was broken by other intruders. The next to pass along the dusty track that led to the village of Kaymak was Jason, the gorilla aide of General Urko. He paused near a stream, bending down to hand his canteen to one of his troopers. They were all taking a short rest break on their journey. While Jason idly watched his subordinate filling the canteen in the str
eam, he ate a fruit which would have been as foreign to the astronauts as the opers. Jason was totally oblivious to the beauty of the countryside around him. To a certain extent, Prefect Irnar had been correct about the barbaric nature of the gorillas. But in another regard, Jason was admirably well suited to the area and his task. He was a strong and forceful ape, a resourceful leader, like most gorillas proud of his ability to take care of himself anywhere in the ape empire. Irnar would have been greatly uncomfortable on a journey to the nearest village, twenty miles away; he would have had difficulty finding fruit and fresh water. Jason had nothing but contempt for the softness of the chimpanzees and orangutans, the two varieties of ape who ruled the empire. The gorillas, to Jason’s delight, enforced that rule, and to him that was a good deal more satisfying.
He threw the core of the strange fruit to the ground, wiped his mouth on the back of his leather-gloved hand, and took the filled canteen from his trooper. Without saying a word, he slung on the canteen and gave his horse a firm kick. Once again he was oh his way; his guards followed behind.
* * *
The cage to which Prefect Irnar had referred the night before was a wooden structure attached to one of the buildings that formed the gorilla garrison. Three of the walls of the cage were solid, built of heavy hardwood planks fitted closely together, unlike the usual open, airy construction that the apes favored. The fourth wall, composed of heavy bars, faced the main street of Kaymak. The floor of the cage was covered with straw. It was reserved for special prisoners; normally, the occasional insolent human was imprisoned within the building itself, which was far more comfortable for the inmates and less of a humiliation.
Virdon and Burke, fast asleep, were sprawled in the straw. Slowly, as from a bad dream, Virdon stirred and awoke, unable for a moment to recall where he was. That was a situation that happened often, for the very good reason that he did not remain in one place long enough for it to make an impression on him. Then, with unpleasant suddenness, he remembered. He looked through the bars toward the street; what he saw there startled him.