by Rich Handley
Janae felt as though she was arguing with the unyielding stone cliffs of the Forbidden Zone. “But they must occupy some biological niche in the ecosystem. Aren’t we also meant to be custodians of the world, including Nature and all its creatures?”
Zorba was unmoved.
“Are you listening to me, Janae? Do you hear what I’m saying?”
She longed to argue her case further, but it was obvious that there was nothing to be gained by pressing the issue, given the Minister’s current attitude. And she couldn’t afford to alienate him, not if she still hoped to find a way to protect the humans.
“Yes, Doctor Zorba. I understand perfectly.”
She was on her own.
Eastern Forest Expedition, Day 45. Despite (or perhaps because of) my frantic efforts to warn them of the hunters, the surviving humans remain increasingly accepting of my presence among them. Flax has given birth to a healthy male infant and appears devoted to its care. If she mourns the loss of Ragged Ear, it is impossible to tell…
Spray from the waterfall misted against Janae’s face, spurring her to retreat to a higher perch upon the rocky slopes overlooking a remote watering hole, where the humans had gathered to slake their thirst and sun themselves upon the smooth, well-worn stones surrounding the lagoon. Flax nursed her newborn child while other humans were scraping the fat from scavenged animal hides and stretching them out upon the rocks to dry, a process Janae observed with acute interest.
The fact that humans, unlike other animals, draped themselves in crude hides had provoked some debate in scientific circles. The accepted wisdom was that this was nothing more than instinctual behavior, not unlike a bird building a nest or bees constructing a hive, but Janae had to wonder if it was instead evidence of an actual sub-simian culture, passed on from one generation to the next.
She certainly couldn’t blame humans for borrowing the hides of other beasts, since their own hairless bodies offered scant protection from the elements. Indeed, she reflected, man was a singularly weak and vulnerable species in general, lacking any unique biological advantages to help him survive. He had no real fangs or claws, no natural armor, nor even opposable toes to assist him in climbing. The clergy, of course, claimed that man was spawned by the Devil in deliberate mockery of apekind—who, by contrast, were created in God’s own image—but it seemed to Janae that man was more likely a failed experiment on Nature’s part, possibly on the road to extinction.
Not if can I help it, she thought.
A shrill, ear-piercing wail, almost like that of a baby ape, shattered her thoughts. Startled, she was amazed to see that the shriek came from Flax’s infant, who was quickly silenced. As Janae looked on in shock, Flax stifled the child’s cries, clasping her palm over the baby’s mouth and pinching its pudgy, pink arm hard enough to leave a bruise. Janae feared that Flax was suffocating the child, but the female uncovered the baby’s mouth after only a few moments. Gasping for breath, the baby started to cry again, only to receive the same rough discipline from his mother, who appeared to pinch the baby even harder.
Janae could not believe her eyes. Her mind boggled at the implications of what she was seeing.
Could it be…?
Small rocks and scree tumbled past her, shaken loose by the sudden pounding of hooves. A shot rang out and an unlucky human toppled from above, splashing down into the once-pristine lagoon, his spilled blood turning the clear blue water incarnadine. A horn sounded like the screech of some mythical demon or predator.
The hunters, Janae realized, aghast. They’ve found us again!
Panicked, and not without reason, the humans scrambled for safety, clambering up the rocky slopes to get away, while leaving the drying hides behind. Janae was suddenly struck by just how silent the frantic exodus was; even in mortal terror, the humans emitted no barks or yowls or squawks of distress.
Except for Flax’s newborn baby earlier…
Clutching her baby to her chest, the human female sought refuge behind the curtain of falling water at the base of the falls. Churning mist and white water helped to conceal her hiding place.
Clever girl, Janae thought.
Acting on impulse, and unwilling to let the mother and child out of her sight, she scooted down the slope and scampered across the rocks toward the falls. Like most apes, she hated getting wet, but science sometimes demanded sacrifices; flinching at the cold, soaking spray, she ducked behind the cascading wall of water.
Flax started in fright as Janae joined her. Her eyes widened anxiously and she clutched her baby closer to her breast. Janae covered her own mouth with her hands to assure the frightened human that she understood the need for silence.
You can trust me, she thought. I won’t let anything happen to you or your baby.
Flax seemed to get the message. Instead of bolting away from Janae, out into the open, she merely cowered against the slick, wet cliff face while keeping a wary eye on the increasingly sodden chimpanzee. Janae appreciated the human’s trust, such as it was, while praying that the gorillas would pass them by. Water dripped from her hair and garments, chilling her.
A bullet, slamming in the rock face only inches away from her, suggested that her prayers had gone unanswered. Chipped stone pelted her face, causing her heart to pound like the hooves of the gorilla’s horses. Trembling, Flax curled herself into a ball around her baby. Janae was shaking as well.
“Over there!” a gorilla shouted above the roar of the cataract. “I think I see something behind the falls!”
Damn it, Janae thought. They’ve got us cornered.
There was only one course of action left to her.
“Stay!” she ordered Flax before drawing her own pistol and firing a warning shot past the curtain of water. Working up her nerve, she stepped out from behind the cascade. “Hold your fire, you gun-crazy maniacs! Are you trying to kill me?”
The sharp report of the gunshot, and her unexpected appearance, took the hunters aback. Atlas glared down at her from atop the slope. He sat astride his mount, cradling a hunting rifle against his chest, much like Flax had held onto her child. Janae suspected that Atlas loved his firearms almost as much as the mother human cared for the baby.
“Don’t tempt me!” he shouted back at her. “What the devil were you doing behind that water?”
“Trying to avoid being shot by you and your trigger-happy friends!”
Atlas squinted suspiciously at the falls. “Who else is behind that water?”
“Nobody,” she insisted. “Since when do I have company out here in the wild?”
The gorilla contemplated the discarded hides upon the rocks. “Perhaps I should see for myself.”
He started to urge his horse down the slope.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Janae aimed her pistol in his general direction. “I’m still pretty shook up from all this commotion, and there’s no telling what might happen if my trigger finger slipped.”
Atlas slowed his descent. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Not on purpose, of course.” Janae did not lower her gun. “But… accidents happen.”
They glared at each other while the other apes looked on dumbfounded. Janae’s nerves were stretched so tight she expected them to snap any minute, but she struggled to maintain as fierce a gaze as any belligerent gorilla.
I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.
“Bah!” Atlas snarled, wheeling his horse about. “Leave the human-lover. There’s better game to be found elsewhere, away from all this… wetness.”
Janae bit back a mocking retort. Better to let Atlas save face than to provoke him into calling her bluff… if, indeed, she was bluffing. Janae wasn’t quite sure about that. Would she really fire on another ape to defend Flax and her baby?
Maybe.
She waited until the gorillas had fully retreated, and the noise of their departure had entirely faded away, before slipping back behind the falls to check on the humans. To her relief, both mother and child remained pres
ent and unscathed. Flax stared wide-eyed at her soggy savior, wonder and confusion written upon her face in a language intelligible to both man and ape.
“You’re safe now,” Janae said as softly and gently as she could. “Nobody is going to hurt you or your baby.”
For now, that was.
* * *
“Is this true?” Zorba demanded. “Did you indeed draw a gun on a fellow ape?”
Janae had been called back to the city—and the Minister’s office—to account for her actions. Thankfully, the long ride from the forest had given her plenty of time to formulate her response.
“Is that what he said?” she replied, feigning innocence. “Did that arrogant brute also mention that he and his trigger-happy companions opened fire on me first, after mistaking me for a human? If I fired a shot, it was merely to alert them to my true nature, before I ended up the victim of an unfortunate hunting accident.”
“Hmm.” Zorba examined her skeptically. “That’s not how Captain Atlas describes the incident.”
“I would imagine not, but who are you going to believe? A thick-headed gorilla and his equally brutish cronies… or a trained scientific observer?” She wished briefly that she was an orangutan, if only to give her words more weight with Zorba. “Speaking of which, have you had a chance to read my most recent reports from the field?”
Aside from changing the subject, she was genuinely eager to discuss her latest findings and theories with another scientist.
“I have,” he stated. “Unfortunately.” He extracted a copy of the report and laid it down on the desk between them. “You are hardly helping your cause—or your reputation—by trading science for sheerest fantasy.”
“Fantasy?” She bristled at the label, as well as the Minister’s scornful tone. “To be sure, further research is required to validate my theories, but you must concede that the evidence is provocative and may open up whole new avenues of study where man is concerned.” She could barely contain her own excitement. “What if man’s inability to speak is a learned behavior, passed on from generation to generation?”
“Nonsense!” Zorba replied. “Man is, by nature, incapable of speech—or learning. To suggest otherwise borders on heresy.”
“But think about it,” she said, caught in the thrill of discovery. “Ape children learn to speak by emulating their elders. If humans, for whatever reason, ceased speaking at some point in the distant past, and conditioned their children to keep silent as well, how many generations would it take before language—even speech itself—died out entirely? Ten? Twenty? A hundred?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Zorba said. “Your so-called theory makes no sense even on its own highly specious terms. Allowing that, just for the sake of argument, man was even capable of doing so, why would any species choose to abandon speech?”
“Survival? External pressures, such as predators or rival tribes? A religious taboo?”
Zorba snorted at the latter suggestion. “So now we’re crediting man with spiritual impulses, as well as a latent capacity for speech? Your ridiculous fancies grow more preposterous the more you attempt to justify them.”
“I admit that many unanswered questions remain, but that’s exactly what makes this line of inquiry so intriguing, perhaps even revolutionary.” She refused to let Zorba’s ridicule douse her enthusiasm. “Who knows? Perhaps it might even be possible to teach a human to speak…”
“Enough!” Zorba said sharply. “You are embarrassing yourself. I have a good mind to call a halt to your ill-conceived project altogether.”
Janae’s heart sank. As Minister of Science, Zorba had the authority to shut down her studies completely. “No, please, you mustn’t do that.”
“Give me one good reason not to.”
“The summer is almost over,” she said, groping for some plausible excuse, “so I’ll be striking camp soon anyway. All I need is a few more weeks—days, even—to complete my initial survey, make a few final notes concerning the range and numbers of the humans, their diet, and so on. Then we’ll have until next spring to contemplate any future research in the field.”
Zorba regarded her gravely. “I would not be overly optimistic in that regard.”
“I understand, sir. Perhaps I have let myself be carried away to a degree, but to have my expedition terminated abruptly, so close to its completion… well, I fear that might reflect badly on my career, and perhaps even the entire chimpanzee community.”
She was not above playing the species card if it meant being allowed to continue her work—and perhaps discover conclusive proof that humans were more than just mindless beasts, fit only to be hunted or exterminated. And she allowed herself to hope that the Ministry would just as soon avoid any undue attention or controversy regarding her studies.
“I see.” Zorba mulled over her words before reaching a decision. “Very well. I suppose there’s no need to take any drastic action at this late date. You may have one more week to wrap up your work and bring your expedition to an expeditious conclusion… and perhaps reexamine your ludicrous ‘theories’ with a cooler head.” He returned her report to his desk drawer. “But I strongly urge you not to share your speculations with anyone else, for the sake of your own future.”
Janae forced herself to maintain a civil tone.
“Thank you, Doctor. You won’t regret this.”
His gaze shifted to the family photos on his desk.
“I already do,” he said.
Eastern Forest Expedition, Day 60. Despite Doctor Zorba’s opposition, I am more than ever determined to continue my study of humans, which have proven to be even more complex and fascinating than I ever imagined. I can only hope that my work will someday overcome the myths and prejudices surrounding man, allowing for a more enlightened approach to his care and preservation…
Alone in her tent, Janae looked up from her journal and rubbed her weary eyes. The glow of a solitary lantern illuminated the interior of the tent, which was pitched at the outskirts of the forest, within walking distance of the humans’ usual environs. Night had fallen hours ago, but her racing brain would not allow her to sleep. There was still too much work to be done, too much to plan and ponder, in the scant days remaining before she would be forced to return to Ape City.
She was sorely tempted to try to capture Flax’s baby and take it back to the city for further observation, but, no, she couldn’t do that to the poor animal, which had already lost her mate. Janae knew she was being overly sentimental, and not at all scientific, in wanting to spare one particular human’s feelings, but, like any decent chimpanzee, she had a heart as well as a brain and she wasn’t about to apologize for that, not even to herself.
Was there any way she could get her hands on another newborn human? An orphan, maybe?
There was still vital work to be done, even back in the city, provided she had a suitable human specimen with which to work—the younger, the better. Perhaps she could start by trying to teach it sign language before advancing to actual vocalizations? Even if her theory was correct, it would not be easy to undo generations, perhaps even millennia, of behavioral conditioning, but…
A twig snapped loudly outside the tent. Janae sat up straight, all her senses on alert. Was it just her imagination, or did she hear something stirring out there in the dark? Maybe more than one something? She put down her pen and reached for her pistol.
“Hello?” she called out. “Is anybody there?”
As far as she knew, humans were not nocturnal…
Torches flared to life outside. She caught a glimpse of simian silhouettes on the other side of the canvas before a flaming object crashed into the side of the tent, setting it ablaze. Screaming in fright, she grabbed her journal as smoke and flames rapidly filled the shelter, driving her out into the night—where she found Atlas and his fellow gorillas awaiting her.
“You lunatics!” she accused them. “Are you all insane? This is beyond harassment!”
Remembering the gun in her hand, she started
to raise it in self-defense, only to have a leather noose, of the sort employed by zookeepers, seize her wrist and yank her arm roughly to one side, spoiling her aim. A heavy club, wielded by another gorilla, struck the same arm, causing her to lose her grip on the pistol. A net was tossed over her, dragging her to the ground, where she whimpered in pain. Her abused arm felt like it was broken.
“That’s it!” Atlas egged his accomplices on. “She loves humans so much. Treat her like one!”
No, she thought, this can’t be happening. Not even a gorilla would go this far.
The light from the burning tent lit up the night. Reaching through the netting holding her down, Atlas pried her precious journal from her grip and casually tossed it onto the bonfire her camp had become.
“Burn it all,” he ordered the other hunters. “Every trace.”
Janae ached in more ways than one. The loss of her notes hurt almost as much as her throbbing arm. “You can’t do this. When Doctor Zorba finds out about this—”
“Who is going to tell him? Your precious humans?” Atlas sneered at her. “Go ahead, scream for help. See if those filthy animals come to your rescue. They can’t save you any more than you can save them.”
“Save me?” Anger gave way to terror as the gorilla’s words sank in. “No, you can’t mean…” Unable to give voice to the unspeakable, she turned to scripture in desperation. “Ape shall never kill ape!”
Atlas shrugged.
“Ape? I don’t see any apes here.” He cracked his knuckles ominously before nodding at the other gorillas. “What are you waiting for? Destroy this… animal.”
The hunters fell upon her. Fists and boots and rocks slammed without mercy into her huddled form. She curled up into a ball, trying in vain to shield herself from a never-ending rain of blows that no living creature, human or ape, could survive. All because she had dared to speak up for the humans.
