by Rich Handley
Doctor Hiatt sat back and allowed himself a tight-lipped smile. “And all this you did in your head, Professor Darius?”
“Yes, sir. I can… I guess see my experiments in my imagination. I can take projects apart, inspect the individual components, rearrange them, test various ideas and configurations. I even see my calculations, as though written on a slate.”
“Remarkable. I will confess, we have been keeping an eye on you for quite some time, ever since you started your explorations out into the Forbidden Zone as an adolescent.”
Darius didn’t hide his surprise. “But… no one ever tried to stop me.”
“You were never a threat or a danger to us or yourself,” Doctor Hiatt said with a shrug. “You have seen for yourself there is very little of substance to fear in the Zone. No, Professor Darius, the Forbidden Zone is forbidden not for the protection of apes, but for the maintenance of the Secrets passed on to us by the Lawgiver.”
“Secrets like Taylor?”
Doctor Hiatt nodded his head once. “And his devices.”
“But why?” Darius said, almost in anguish. “They are a boon to apes.”
“These things, Professor Darius,” Doctor Hiatt said in a gentle, corrective tone, “are the destructive seeds of apekind.”
“That’s insane,” Darius said, the words flying from his mouth before he knew he spoke them.
Doctor Hiatt calmly said, “I told you we have been watching you for some time. Our interest did not spring from fear of your curiosity and intelligence, but rather the hope that, under our careful tutelage, it would blossom and grow. I will tell you we are none of us disappointed in the results.”
“But then,” Darius said slowly, “I found Taylor’s backpack.”
“Yes. Poisoning all your discoveries going forward by the tainted roots of forbidden knowledge.”
“I don’t understand, Doctor Hiatt. What difference does the source of knowledge make if the knowledge itself is beneficial?”
“Because all knowledge must be ape knowledge.”
“I’m an ape,” Darius said.
“Would you have made the inventive leap to your aluminum pipe without Taylor’s backpack to inspire you?”
“I don’t know… perhaps. But even if I hadn’t, sooner or later some other scientist would.”
“And then it would be ape knowledge, born of ape wisdom and ingenuity.”
“Then why was my irrigation project approved?”
Doctor Hiatt made a dismissive gesture. “A disagreement on the Academy council. There were those who found your and Professor Sidd’s version of its discovery plausible. By the time we located the backpack, the project had already been constructed and the process was known by too many to suppress.”
“You still haven’t told me why we weren’t stopped before we went too far,” Darius said. “Were you waiting for us to incriminate ourselves?”
“Quite the contrary, Professor Darius. We were curious to see what you would do next. We are already in possession of all you have discovered and more.” Doctor Hiatt held up both hands to take in the lighted cavern. “Electricity. Energy storage devices. Illuminated orbs. Communication of sound and images over wires and without. Medical devices. Many marvels, all created by bright, young scientific minds who found inspiration in recovered or stolen bits of human technology.”
The doctor’s confession almost knocked Darius from his seat. The elder saw his shock and didn’t wait for the question to answer, “Human technology, yes. Taylor was real, an intelligent human who came to our world with his companions, bringing with them the technology from their world that you and those before you have found so fascinating.
“But know this,” the old orangutan growled, leaning across the table to lock his bloodshot eyes on Darius. “Taylor and those others were alien beings, from another world. They may have looked like our feral humans, but they were no more related to the mindless humans of Earth than apes are kin to the moon.”
Darius couldn’t sit any longer. He pushed back the chair and began to pace behind it, his fingers plucking nervously at his tunic. “If they’re so different, why is their technology still forbidden?”
“Because it is human.”
“But not our humans.”
“The distinction is too subtle for the common ape to…”
“No,” Darius barked, startled again by his own boldness. But even as they had been speaking, his imagination had been at work on the problem, deconstructing Doctor Hiatt’s argument the same way he had solved the riddles of the communications device and the orb, by rearranging the pieces and filling the gaps with creative leaps of logic; if this is to happen, these steps must first take place, even if how to achieve any of those steps is currently unknown. And the final banana had dropped into the basket.
“You… you aren’t sure, are you?” he said in a whispery rasp.
Doctor Hiatt stared back at him through narrowed eyes, as though he were a specimen being measured. At last, he shrugged and sighed.
“What is certainty? Yes, I know you believe that all things are quantifiable by science. Were the proof for religion held to as rigid a standard as science, there would be no faith. And that makes faith sometimes a very fragile thing. We of faith do not feel a need to test it, for to test it would be to question the Lawgiver and give, in actuality, proof of our lack of faith.”
“That’s just rhetoric,” Darius said. “Besides, trying to understand the universe that the Lawgiver gave us doesn’t question him or alter my faith. None of it would be there without him, so anything that apes can create celebrates him.”
“There is that one pillar, Professor, that, should it ever be removed, could send the entire temple crashing down into rubble,” Doctor Hiatt said. “The infallible belief in the superiority of ape over human. It has been, remains, and shall forever be a fact as inarguable as existence itself.”
“What if it isn’t?” Darius asked. “Why should it matter?”
“Because we must know that everything we have comes from here,” the old doctor said fiercely, pounding his fist against his chest. “We must know that not a shred of human knowledge, no matter the world of its origin, infects ape thinking. We must know that not a scrap of skin or drop of similar blood is shared between us.”
Doctor Hiatt rose now as well, as did the volume of his voice, as though delivering the apocalyptic words of the Lawgiver.
“And our certainty must serve as the foundation for the unshakable faith of those who look to us for strength and guidance. But how can we maintain the certainty of our faith if we do not also maintain the purity of our knowledge?”
Darius looked around the cavern. “Then what’s all of this? Why don’t you destroy it instead of keeping and even using it if it’s such a threat?”
“Don’t be naïve,” the doctor scolded. “One must sometimes use the Devil’s own tools against him. We were able to listen in on your laboratory with a concealed device that sends sound through the air.”
Darius almost smiled. “Wireless transmission. I knew it was possible,” he said in satisfaction before remembering that he should be upset. “What’s going on, Doctor? How come I’m here with you instead of in the hands of some gorilla for questioning?”
“You are a bright chimp, Professor. Why do you think?”
“I can only assume it’s because you need me for some purpose,” Darius said slowly.
“It’s not quite a need, but we recognize potential when it is before us. We believe you can be an asset to the Academy, the word of the Lawgiver, and your fellow apes. We believe you would choose the opportunity to continue your scientific research, now backed by the full resources of the Academy, over a far less pleasant and fulfilling fate.”
“You mean death?”
Doctor Hiatt chuckled. “Do not be absurd. No, but you would be sent to a place where you would be too exhausted from your labors to ever again even think about science.”
“And if I stay, how will I be help
ing anyone except myself?”
“Your work will benefit society, Professor, more than it will ever know. Though we need to wait for an ape whose mind has not been tainted by human technology to discover illumination and communication for all to enjoy it, there are some equally immediate and potentially lethal threats that face our world. They are worrisome enough that should they manifest, what tools we have at our disposal to defeat them will be secondary to how those tools were acquired.”
“What about Kya and Sidd? What did they say when you told them this?” Darius said.
“Professor Kya, while a talented mathematician, is not an object of our interest as are you and Professor Sidd. He, however, has taken a more defiant stance and will require some reassuring counsel from a trusted friend to be made to understand the situation.”
“How do you know I understand?”
“It’s a matter of faith,” Doctor Hiatt said. “Your faith, Professor Darius, that the only truths in the universe that matter are those that can be proved by science.”
“What good is any of it if it can’t be used?”
“It may not allow apes to light their homes, but your discoveries will not go to waste, of that I assure you.”
Doctor Hiatt was right, of course. A life of hard labor for his friends and himself or one of pure science, unfettered by all restrictions.
Darius sighed. No choice at all.
“Of course, Doctor Hiatt. And I thank you for this honor,” he said, lowering his eyes and bowing his head. “I will, of course, talk to my colleagues. I’m sure they can be made to understand.”
“Very good, Professor Darius,” Doctor Hiatt said. “I am relieved to see you are as sensible as you are brilliant. Thank the Lawgiver.”
“Thank you, Doctor Hiatt,” Darius said humbly, but he was careful not to echo the oath to the Lawgiver himself. Doctor Hiatt had said it himself—Darius’ faith lay in science, and science only. And Darius was just as dedicated as Doctor Hiatt to protecting his faith: science, in service of apekind and practiced without restriction.
Darius understood that the best way to bring down an institution like the Academy was from the inside. He didn’t yet know how he and Sidd would do it, but he was still confident. As he once told Sidd, they were smart chimps. They would figure it out.
* * *
Doctor Zaius himself takes center stage in Kevin J. Anderson’s and Sam Knight’s “Of Monsters and Men,” years before the orangutan became the holder of the planet’s greatest secrets and met the human called “Bright Eyes”…
* * *
OF MONSTERS AND MEN
by
KEVIN J. ANDERSON AND SAM KNIGHT
“Apprentice Zaius!”
The young orangutan flinched at the gruff tone. He stepped backward in the rough-hewn stone hallway to see the angry gorilla bearing down upon him. “What is this nonsense?” Spittle flew from the darker ape’s lips. “Why have my gorillas been recalled from our hunting trip and ordered to report to you? We were on the trail of a new band of humans!”
Zaius shrank as the intimidating gorilla came nose to nose with him. “Captain Caetus! I—”
A calm, authoritative voice filled the passageway behind them. “Because I said so.”
Stiffening, Caetus stepped back from Zaius. Always more in control of himself than any gorilla, Zaius turned and bowed as the Defender of the Faith approached them. “Doctor Tullius.”
Tullius’ orange Academy robes complemented his ruddy hair, but contrasted sharply against the drab greens of Zaius’ student jumper and Caetus’ black leather military armor. Ignoring the younger orangutan’s greeting, Tullius addressed the gorilla. Though he was physically smaller, the Defender of the Faith exuded power and confidence. Clearly, he did not expect his orders to be questioned. “My student Zaius is leading you and your men into the Forbidden Zone. I have been told your soldiers are the best. Is this not so? Are you not prepared for true danger? Or would you rather be chasing weak humans for sport?”
The gorilla’s dark eyes narrowed. “My soldiers are the best! We are prepared.”
“Then you leave at first light. Make whatever preparations you feel are necessary. You are dismissed, Captain Caetus.” Ignoring the flustered gorilla, Tullius held out a rolled parchment to the younger orangutan. “Your travel papers, Zaius—Academy-approved.”
Zaius gingerly took the scroll, as though afraid it might vanish like a dream in his hands. “Sir, I… I don’t know what to say.”
Pausing, Tullius looked up the hallway, watching until the gorilla had stomped out of sight before resting a hand on his fellow orangutan’s shoulder. “My boy, if you are ever going to be a member of the Academy Board, you must learn how to control the gorillas. You are smarter than they are. All orangutans are.”
Zaius focused on an entirely different part of the statement. “Me? A member of the Board?”
“Why else would I have gotten you approval to explore the Forbidden Zone?”
“Honestly, I don’t know, sir. I am at a loss for words. You are Defender of the Faith, and I know you’ve heard my theories about an ancient, possibly non-simian civilization.” He looked away. “I rather expected you would charge me with heresy, not aid my search.”
“Perhaps I see potential in you, Zaius, and I am giving you a chance to disprove your theory and denounce such nonsense. Provided the evidence warrants it, of course.” The Defender of the Faith fixed Zaius with a bright, intense gaze, making it clear exactly what answer he expected to hear. “And, for safety reasons, I will not allow you to take any humans.”
Zaius shifted nervously. “No humans? Who will carry the packs? Do the digging? All the physical labor?”
“Surely gorillas are capable of doing a little hard work. It would be good for them to get their hands dirty for a change.” Tullius squeezed Zaius’ shoulder and smiled. “You are one of the brightest apes to ever come through the Academy. If anyone can comprehend what is to be found in the Forbidden Zone, it will be you. Keep your eyes, and most importantly your mind, open.” His voice hardened again. “But not every ape is capable of comprehending… difficult concepts.”
* * *
The expedition had not gone far before the gorillas began to cause problems. The sun was hot, the road dusty, and Zaius had the worst horse of the lot—no doubt a small way for Captain Caetus to put the young orangutan in his place, no matter what Doctor Tullius had ordered.
“Why exactly are we going into the Forbidden Zone if it is forbidden?” Caetus’ gruff voice burned Zaius’ ears worse than the blistering heat of the day. “Does the Defender of the Faith question the word of the Lawgiver?” He made a snorting sound. “When all questions are already answered, what is the purpose of asking more questions?”
The gibe carried over the sound of the horse hooves and rattling tack. A snuffling laugh from one of the mounted gorilla soldiers at the rear of the expedition assured Zaius that everyone in the party had heard. Trying to maintain his composure, Zaius looked back at the other two orangutan apprentices and three chimpanzee students making up his scientific team. They all held rigid, neutral expressions, and none dared refute Caetus’ comment. They were already nervous about entering the Forbidden Zone, not to mention being surrounded by eight armed gorillas.
Karah, the only female orangutan, nodded slightly at him. Neaus, the other orangutan, watched expectantly, waiting for Zaius to put the gorilla captain in his place. They both looked regal in their newly fitted orange Academy Representative robes. Zaius resisted the urge to look down at his own. Any sign of nervousness would make controlling this expedition a difficult task.
Though he was himself just a senior student, Zaius was the leader of this expedition and would have to respond.
He lifted his chin and spoke in an erudite, knowledgeable voice. Anticipating the gruff gorilla’s questions, Doctor Tullius had offered him possible responses. “The Forbidden Zone has been deadly to simiankind for twelve hundred years, Captain. Plenty of
time for humans to hide in the rocky canyons and breed like vermin.” He raised his voice to make sure the other gorillas in the squad could hear. “You know what the Sacred Scrolls say. ‘Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours.’ Every generation, a select few apes are chosen to make sure the naked beasts have not found a way to survive out here.” Turning to look Caetus in the eye, Zaius did his best to hold the ape’s gaze. “We should be proud to have been chosen. This is a great honor.”
“Ha! Then it’s a hunting expedition.” Caetus threw back his head and laughed, satisfied—for now. Raising his rifle overhead with one hand, he shouted back to the other gorillas. “Academy-talk for saying we are the ones to root out and exterminate humans in the Forbidden Zone!”
The other gorillas raised their weapons and shouted approval.
* * *
After the pounding, dry heat of the day, the desert night was colder than Zaius expected, but it was far from the most surprising thing about this strange, inhospitable landscape. When the expedition approached, the boundary to the Forbidden Zone had been unmistakable: desolation demarcated the living world from the dead. Beyond the line of sinister scarecrows apes had set out to warn off the ignorant, the increasingly nervous riders had seen nothing to look at but rock, dirt, and sky.
Unable to sleep, Zaius rose from his pallet and walked the perimeter of torches the gorillas had set around the camp. As he passed the surly, black-haired sentry, he was grateful the gorilla did nothing more than nod as he passed. He thought the sentry’s name was Bovarius, and he chided himself for not knowing; he was, after all, the designated leader of the expedition, and Doctor Tullius had cautioned him that he needed to learn how to keep the gorillas in check. Orangutans were smarter—he was smarter—and he had to know them and know how to control them, using their ignorance as a lever, if necessary.
Even though Zaius did not actually expect to find infestations of feral human tribes in the awful wasteland, his suggestion had turned the disgruntled military escort into the most enthusiastic members of the expedition. Gorillas were so easily manipulated. He paused as he wondered if Doctor Tullius had manipulated his orangutan students just as well.
