“You, stop!” the guard bellowed.
Liberus turned and limped off after the humans. The gorilla gave chase, glancing in disgust over his shoulder at his fellow guard.
“I told you I smelled wet chimp!”
With the guards properly distracted, Liet and the others rushed to the other cage. Tian had done his job yet again. As the humans trapped in the adjacent cages rattled their bars, they made a dash for the safety of the trees.
All but one.
Liet knew her group had a few scant seconds before they were seen. Regardless, she entered the cage.
“Come on.” She beckoned to the lone human as he stumbled around in a stupor.
“Be careful,” Jaila warned.
There was something wrong with this male. More than that, there was something familiar about him. As she approached, Liet could see he had a large scar on his forehead, the result of invasive surgery.
Suddenly she recognized him—as did Jaila.
“Liet,” Tian warned. “We have to go. The guards—”
She pulled the boy to her.
“This one.” She indicated the dazed human. “This one comes with us.”
“But how—” Tian stopped himself. “Done,” he nodded. Tian called Quirinus over, and together they led the dimwitted human into the night.
* * *
Mungwortt and Zao lived. Barely conscious, they lay in an uneven pile at the bottom of the exile pit past the edge of Simia. It had been a drop of some fifty feet, ending with a grisly crunch. Trapped beneath the Forbidden Zone, they needed help.
Zao looked as if something had broken. Mungwortt had fared somewhat better, landing on his shoulder, his arm loosened in its socket. Despite the pain, he made use of that dislocated limb to free himself from his bonds, the ropes spiraling off.
He peered around, and his eyes acclimated to the darkness. It wasn’t absolute. Above them there grew a glowing moss. Its pale luminescence carried down the walls of the pit and helped to define their shape. There were other tunnels down here—he could make out the silhouettes of their entrances against the crude stone walls. Taking a step forward he fumbled, tripping over something hard and round.
It was a skull, and it was an ape’s.
The floor around them was littered with bones, the bleached remains of those who had stood against the simian way and were silenced before a public trial became necessary. Worse, those bones looked to have been chewed.
Zao groaned, still barely conscious.
“Wake up,” Mungwortt said urgently. “Wake up!” He grabbed hold of the orangutan and sat him up. Zao roared with pain, and clutched at his hip. As the tortured cry reverberated through the caverns, cerise stars twinkled into existence. But they weren’t stars, Mungwortt realized. They were eyes—red eyes reflecting light. There was something alive in here.
“Who goes there?” Mungwortt called out. “Man or ape?”
Zao gritted a retort. “Neither, I suspect.”
The creatures in the shadowed tunnels crept closer, until they were visible. Their skins glowed faintly, not unlike the fungus-smattered walls. Their shoulders were slumped like apes, but their bodies were relatively hairless, like a human’s, with only a mane of white fur around their faces. Each beast had a strange shining spot on one ear.
There were a lot of them.
Desperate for a weapon, Mungwortt scavenged a piece of barbed wire and wrapped it around his fist. As he did, the creatures surged.
The white ones were upon them.
The first creature to reach them received an uppercut as Mungwortt’s barb-wired fist smashed its face. There was a crunch of bone and the spatter of something dark and wet. The beast fumbled and fell back with a shriek that ended abruptly—the white thing had landed on a pile of sharp splintered bones.
Enthralled, its brethren watched, murmuring to one another. As the beast writhed, they did nothing. White flesh was stained darkly. A damp gurgle was followed by an echoing sigh—then silence.
Zao dragged himself to the bled-out beast. His examination was brief.
“You broke its jaw,” he told Mungwortt, “and impaled it on this skeleton.”
“Is that good?”
“I think so,” Zao panted. “They’ll respect you now. They—”
Two white ones grabbed Mungwortt from behind and pinned him.
Zao yelped.
A wall of bodies rushed forward.
* * *
As Taylor and Nova approached the dead riverbed, a wall of fire erupted in front of them, shooting ten feet into the air. Taylor gripped the reins tightly as the panicked horse tried to dance away.
What the hell is feeding the flames? Taylor wondered. Perhaps it was a dry brush fire of some kind, though there was no foliage even close to the burning zone. He could feel the heat coming from it, and it was getting hotter.
Taylor let the horse have her way as she galloped down a hill and back the way they had come. A concerned Nova pawed at his back as they made their way toward the desert. After a time he halted the beast and pointed her to the south. This way would be rougher, but he was pretty sure they could handle it. He was determined to enter the ruins of the city.
“Let’s try another way,” he said.
The quiet wind picked up and ruffled through Taylor’s dirty hair. He was certain he had gone the right way, and scanned ahead for familiar landmarks. Only there were none.
It’s all wrong, he mused. Where the hell are we?
As if his thoughts angered the sky, it grumbled and shrank as sound itself drained from the air. With it went the light. There were no clouds, yet it was overcast. An invisible storm seemed to brew above them. Then…
Silence.
Taylor felt the hair on his arms tingle.
Suddenly there was lightning.
Electricity leapt from hidden clouds. It slammed the ground around them, forcing Taylor to kick the horse to speed as the lightning bolts gave chase. Then the violence faded. He glanced over his shoulder twice to see the lightning retreat. The sky brightened.
Spinning the horse, he brought her to a full stop. There was nothing behind them but dry desert and clear skies. Far beyond were the cliffs and hills that had rimmed the East River, suddenly miles away.
What the hell? he demanded silently. This time the earth replied, growling deep within its bowels. A vibration ran up the horse’s legs, reaching her human riders. He looked down, and not a moment too soon. In panic he pulled the reins hard.
With a twist of rending stone, the earth split asunder. The horse reared, narrowly evading the yawning chasm that appeared in front of them. Spinning again, Taylor turned the horse to face…
…rock.
The earth stopped moving, and with it came silence. They were against the cliffs again, the ones bordering the river. Behind them, the newly formed gorge remained. Up ahead, a wall of stone blocked their way.
“That wasn’t here,” he insisted. “A minute ago, that wasn’t here.”
Nova gawked at the cliff face, fear and confusion written across her features. It was all Taylor needed.
“I’m not the only one,” he growled. “She sees it, too.” The boar-thing, the flames, the earthquake and the lightning—whatever they were encountering, it was no delusion. It was a shared experience.
Slowly Taylor dismounted. Weighing his options, he turned to Nova, taking her hand.
“Listen,” he said. “Listen, now. If you lose me”—he pointed to her, and then his own chest—“If you lose me, try to find Zira. Remember? Zira.” He emphasized the syllables. “Go find Zee-rah.”
He patted her hand. “Zira.”
Then Taylor pulled his rifle from the saddle holster and cautiously approached the cliff wall. Afraid to touch it, he brought his rifle up over his head and smashed it down on the rock.
Except there was no rock. There was nothing at all.
Taylor fell through the wall that wasn’t there.
* * *
Korea
>
1953
Lieutenant Taylor was falling up. A tinny voice buzzed in his ear.
“Taylor!” It took him a moment to figure out who it was.
Airman First Class Donovan Maddox. The new kid. Donny.
It took another minute to figure out where he was.
I’m alive.
In my cockpit.
Flying.
Up.
Judging from the pressure, he was sure he was climbing fast. If he wasn’t careful he’d exceed the Sabrejet’s ceiling and then come crashing back down to earth. His labored breathing echoed in his flight mask. Behind it, there was a desperate cry on his radio.
“George, level off, goddamn it!”
Taylor cleared his throat. “I hear you, Donny.”
Maddox sounded relieved. “You alright?”
I should be dead, Taylor knew. That meteor had been on a collision course. No matter how good a pilot he was, there was no way he would have gotten out of its way in time. Unless…
“We lost Roy and Frankie,” Maddox said. “Then the meteor… it changed course.”
As crazy as that sounded, Taylor knew it to be true. If it hadn’t altered its trajectory, he would have been incinerated, as well.
What the hell was that thing? A goddamn UFO?
“Where is it now?”
“Damn thing went down a few miles north. Lit up a nice path across the hillside.”
Taylor banked right. He could see it now—the destruction the meteor had wrought. Trees were ablaze in its wake.
“Good to see you’re still with us, Lieutenant.” That was Captain Lazenbe. “MiGs have broken off and we’ve got new orders.” The captain continued as if nothing unusual had occurred. “They want us on the ground.” Lazenbe rattled off the coordinates. Shaken, Taylor changed course for the new airstrip.
Whether by design or the luck of the draw, death had passed him by.
* * *
“The reverend has passed away,” Maximus told Zaius. They stood within the halls of the Zaius museum. The doctor had been on his way to his office when the orangutan had stopped him. “In your absence, the assembly requested an elder to come out of retirement and enforce the Articles of Faith. Someone to guide us… spiritually… in this time of crisis.”
“Who?” Zaius asked.
“Elder Sabian.”
It was as he feared. Once Chief Defender of the Faith, the ancient orangutan was in favor of the quota system and even stricter separation across racial lines. His policies were severe and military-minded. Sabian had always been a political rival—to both Zaius and Zao before him—and it was he who had been assigned by the Secret Police to watch over Zao. Sabian had ultimately betrayed him.
Before I sent Zao into exile, Zaius lamented. Yet he couldn’t dwell on that. There was damage to undo.
“The time of crisis is past” he assured Maximus. “The incumbent Chief Defender of the Faith has returned, and Elder Sabian need not carry the burden any longer. He can return to his retirement, secure in the knowledge that he served all of Simia when he was needed most.”
“Once he was sworn in,” Maximus said, “a motion was passed to name him the interim reverend.” As they entered the reception area of his office, Zaius paused and frowned.
Sabian is now the High Patriarch?
“Dr. Zaius!” his secretary exclaimed. “Good day, sir, I—we weren’t expecting you.”
That’s strange. “You may inform the council that I have returned from the Forbidden Zone. I carry important news, and require an emergency session immediately.”
Hestia hesitated and looked to Maximus. When he nodded, she ran off to complete her assigned task. Zaius did not like the implications. He removed his key from his inner coat pocket. Maximus tapped him on the shoulder before he tried the door.
“You understand,” Maximus said, “space is at a premium right now, and with you away…”
The door swung open of its own accord. Sabian shuffled out into the reception room, dressed in priestly purple vestments—vestments he hadn’t worn for twenty years. Somehow it looked as if he had never stopped wearing them. Sabian seemed to revel in his own appearance.
“Someone had to defend the faith,” the elder said, “while you were away.”
* * *
The trial was a private affair. The High Council itself would act as judge and jury with the fate of the heretical chimpanzee scientists, Cornelius and Zira, on the docket. The orangutan Dr. Zaius reported the findings of his sojourn into the Forbidden Zone.
“We tracked the human beast—‘Bright Eyes’—to learn if he was indeed part of a tribe of speaking humans,” he said to the court. “When we discovered he was not, he was left to die. The state’s original supposition, that the creature was a product of experimental brain surgery under the late Dr. Galen, was satisfied.”
Dr. Honorius interjected. “I was unaware that our findings were in question, Dr. Zaius.”
Looking intrigued, President Gaius ignored him. “And the disposition of the collaborators, Doctors Cornelius and Zira?”
“They were purposely entrenched with Bright Eyes and were working under my authority. They gained the animal’s trust so that it might lead us back to its alleged tribe.”
Zira was stunned.
The council appeared to be stunned, as well.
Ursus rubbed his brow.
Zaius pushed on. “For their unswerving loyalty in these matters, I motion they both be granted seats on the Citizens’ Council. I recommend Dr. Zira be promoted to the next available position within the Office of Animal Affairs. I also appoint Dr. Cornelius as Deputy Minister of Science.”
Just what is the doctor’s end game here? Zira wondered.
Dr. Maximus was champing at the bit, but President Gaius spoke first. “This is all highly unusual, Dr. Zaius.”
“These are unusual times, Mr. President,” Zaius replied. “Such times call for action to protect our city and our citizenry.” Thus bested, Gaius merely shook his head and waved off the two chimpanzees.
“The, um…” he started. “This court thanks Doctors Cornelius and Zira for their time, and asks that they await our findings in the antechamber.”
As the two confused scientists left, Maximus leapt from his seat.
“Deputy Minister of Science?” he blurted. “A chimpanzee?”
Everyone in the chamber avoided his gaze. Like it or not, the quota system had been abolished. It had become possible for any ape to hold any position in society, yet racism between the subspecies still ran rampant. Whether the other apes in council agreed or not did not matter. No one present would mention the outburst, nor would it be recorded in the session’s minutes. Of that Zira had no doubt. When he received no response, Maximus sat again, quietly.
As he did, General Ursus stood.
“I am in full agreement with Dr. Zaius’s assertions,” the gorilla commander announced. Zira was shocked, as Ursus continued. “Action is needed to protect our good country. I do have a few questions, however.”
Zira braced herself for what would come next.
“I am a warrior at heart, and have little background in the sciences,” the general acknowledged. “I performed poorly in school, but excelled in games of sport and strategy.” The gorilla leader paused for effect, then continued. “So admittedly, I may be missing something here. What makes these clearly outstanding ape citizens worthy of these coveted positions?”
Speaking with visible caution, Zaius replied.
“Fine scientists in their own right, they put themselves in danger by accompanying the deviant human,” he said, loudly enough for all to hear, “and risked their reputations for the betterment of apekind.”
“Ah, yes. Their covert work.” Ursus turned his back to Zaius now. “That’s something I can understand—but that’s something more military than science related, isn’t it? Something for the Security Police, perhaps? Why was neither the council, nor the army, informed of this deception?” Arms behind hi
s back, Ursus deliberately paced the room. He didn’t wait for Zaius’s answer. “Doesn’t it seem an unusual burden to be carried solely on the shoulders of the Ministry of Science?”
Zaius straightened. “I needed to be certain of what we were facing before causing a panic, General.” The orangutan saw an opportunity to put Ursus back in his place.
He took it.
“You yourself state that the humans have become a rising threat,” he cautioned. “Our chimpanzee friends came to me with their findings on this ‘Bright Eyes.’ They were already in position to act in our favor. In doing so, they have become the closest we have to experts on the matter. They have done our nation a great service.”
To Zira, it appeared as if the doctor had backed Ursus into a corner. Whether or not the gorilla was voted supreme commander, if he objected to granting the chimpanzees such highly regarded positions, it would undermine his own assertion that the humans were a growing threat.
Ursus remained silent, as if pondering his next move.
Zaius honed his point.
“If Bright Eyes had indeed been part of a tribe of talking humans, it would have been imperative for us to discover their existence and rid the planet of them.” He turned from side to side, addressing all who were gathered. “Fortunately, he was a product of corrupt science.”
“Was he, Doctor?” Ursus sat, and leaned back in his chair. “My apes and I have discovered proof that man’s raids on our crops might not be just the acts of animals.” Reaching into a small satchel on his belt, the gorilla produced some items that appeared to be broken tools, scattering the lot on the tribunal’s desk. “We found these in a nest of humans.” Zaius examined them intently. They were crude by ape standards, but frighteningly advanced for humans.
“Someone or something in the Forbidden Zone has been to the human refuges,” he continued confidently. “Used tools to chisel passages through the rock. Even built hearths and midden posts.” When the council members began to murmur among themselves, Ursus motioned toward a gorilla soldier—one of his entourage—standing to the side of the room. “Major,” Ursus commanded.
Death of the Planet of the Apes Page 9
