by Jim Beard
“Speaking of Urko,” replied Burke, “do you think he got into the silo by now?”
“Probably.” There was no real way to prevent that in the limited time available to them, which Virdon had elected to spend gathering as much of the supplies as they could carry. Now each of them bore a hefty canvas pack on their back, filled with the provisions which would see them through their expedition. Their main concern upon leaving the missile silo was masking their departure, in the hopes of eluding Urko’s scouts long enough to lose themselves in the uncharted terrain east of the Paola Wastelands.
“I’m going to feel pretty embarrassed if we walk all the way there and there’s a sign on the door that says they’ve gone fishing,” said Burke. “Here’s hoping they know we’re coming.”
Virdon understood his friend’s concern and shared it, at least to a point. What mysteries awaited them in the midst of the vast unknown ahead of them, and what else might they find? Perhaps an opportunity for a world in dire need of salvation?
There was, Alan Virdon knew, only one way to find out.
We just keep walking.
* * *
Caesar’s growing empire after Battle for the Planet of the Apes comes into sharp focus in Rich Handley’s “The King Is Dead—Long Live the King,” a treatise on treachery that may serve to shape the simian leader’s legacy for centuries to come…
* * *
THE KING IS DEAD—LONG LIVE THE KING
by
RICH HANDLEY
The pursuit had been relentless.
Evolution had offered apes distinct advantages over man: superior strength and speed, heightened senses of smell and hearing, the ability to take to the trees with ease. They were in their element during the hunt, and their targets had been outmatched from the moment the horns had sounded. The humans knew they had been herded into an indefensible position. With little choice, they ran toward the towering stalks.
“No corn fields!” bellowed Karne, the oldest of the group. “You’re out of bounds!” A squat orangutan with wild hair the color of flame, he pounded a thick fist against his chest as his human playmates sheepishly stepped back into the open. The two gorillas, Beren and Tiptonus, grunted their agreement.
“You’re cheating!” Beren yelled.
Jillian stood her ground, but was mindful of her body language. Despite his small stature, Karne was the alpha among their friends, and she and the twins knew better than to openly challenge him. Though taller than the others, the three were, in the end, still humans.
Besides, Karne was right. They had cheated.
“Well, the rule’s not fair,” Jillian countered. “If we can’t hide in the fields, you find us too quickly.”
Karne thumped his chest. “That’s because you humies are all skin and no hair,” he said. “You stand out like a baboon’s back door.” This caused Tiptonus and Beren to screech in hysterics; most things Karne said did. One of the twins, Jeric, clenched his jaw, but Karne bared his gums and teeth to take the sting out of his jibe, then playfully lunged. The two rolled to the ground laughing, and the others joined in.
“It’s gratifying to know that all of Ape City values peace as much as I,” a voice observed. “It appears Lisa and I can retire now. Someplace warm, I hope, with a lot of fruit.”
“Caesar!” Karne said. Standing next to the elderly chimp were his advisors, Virgil and Bruce MacDonald. The children scrambled to their feet. “I know how you feel about fighting, but we were only playing, honest.”
“If you were only playing honest,” Virgil wryly noted, “that implies you were not actually being honest.” The orangutan’s once-orange hair was now dusted with white.
“Grandfather, that’s not what I meant.” Karne swayed nervously, puffing his cheeks. “Actually, I’m not sure what you even just said. But we were only playing.”
“The humans were cheating,” Tiptonus added. “They broke the rules of the game.”
“Some consider violence no game at all,” Virgil said.
“Now, Virgil,” Caesar chided, not unkindly, “children will play.”
Virgil raised a bushy eyebrow. “I recall when Caesar forbade games of fighting.”
“That is true, my friend. But times change, and I suppose I have as well. Call it a king’s prerogative.” Caesar sighed. “Besides, I can’t imagine apes ever hunting humans with nets.”
“Shall we release the prisoners?” MacDonald quipped. “Or should I escort them to the stockade?”
“I think a stern reprimand will suffice,” Caesar said, smiling. “Consider yourselves reprimanded… sternly. Now have fun.” He leaned in closer to Tiptonus. “When rules are broken, sometimes it means those rules need to change.”
“Yes, sir,” Tiptonus said. Caesar watched, his smile fading into a sigh, as the friends ran toward the adobe structures recently added to Ape City’s residential area.
“I know that look, Caesar,” MacDonald said. “Something’s bothering you—and I don’t think it’s the children of the corn.”
“All this time, MacDonald,” Caesar replied, “and we haven’t truly set aside our differences. Whether school is in or out of session, they’re inseparable friends. Yet even in games, they never forget, or cease to remind each other, that we are not the same.”
“Well, we’re not,” MacDonald pointed out. “But I wouldn’t worry. Playing Hunters and Hunted won’t turn Virgil’s grandson into a redheaded Aldo.” Virgil chuckled.
“Let us hope.” Caesar felt the midday sun on his skin. “Twenty years,” he said softly. “Where has the time gone?”
“I presume Caesar is no longer discussing children’s games,” Virgil mused, then he nodded his comprehension. “Yes, of course. The Battle. Tomorrow is the anniversary, I believe.”
“Has it been that long?” MacDonald replied. “I guess that explains my hairline.”
“Ape City barely survived that day,” Caesar said. “I’ve long worried that Kolp’s people might retaliate, which is why the Armory still stands.”
“Yet they’ve never returned,” Virgil noted. “We’ve lived without war ever since.”
“Without war, yes. But not without its specter looming in the Forbidden City—and inside our own walls. What we’ve built makes me proud, but I’m not naïve enough to think it’s a paradise, Virgil. There is still mistrust, particularly between humans and gorillas.”
“Understandably,” MacDonald said. “The gorillas were the most harshly treated under man’s rule. Aldo made sure never to let us forget that. Moving past it will take time, on both sides. The history of humanity has proven that time and again. Those oppressed sometimes become the next oppressors, and those beaten down can be the next to raise a hand.”
“Hunters and hunted…” Caesar sighed. “When does the resentment end, MacDonald? When did human society set aside its differences and unite as a species?”
“When we all became subservient to the apes, I suppose.” A smile softened his words. “That’s no longer an issue, of course. Thanks to your reforms, mankind has been integrated back into society. You and I may be different, but we’re equals. You’re my brother, and so is Virgil.” The orangutan bowed his head.
“Had Malcolm lived to this day,” MacDonald added, “he’d have been proud to see humans and apes living and working side by side.”
“I do believe he would have,” Caesar agreed. “I also believe the time has come to make amends with those beyond our borders. Your brother was a man of peace. On the Night of the Fires, he warned me that violence prolongs hate, and hate violence. I wasn’t ready to accept it at the time, but he was right. And so we must now reach out to those in the Forbidden City.”
Virgil and MacDonald exchanged glances. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Caesar?” the orangutan asked. “For many in Ape City, those wounds still run deep.”
“I once dismissed those in the wasteland as mad creatures—irrational and irredeemable as they were irradiated. But I fear I was unjust in my condemnati
on. It wasn’t so long ago that man viewed apes as savages, that apes feared humans as taskmasters. Given what we’ve achieved within our community in so short a span, is it really that unreasonable to think we could form a friendship with those who once warred against us?”
“It’s an admirable goal, Caesar,” MacDonald admitted, “one I’d be glad to see pan out. But I have my doubts. For one, I can’t imagine those in the Forbidden City would be open to it. Whoever you send, you’ll be putting them at great risk.”
“We’ve only achieved what we have because Caesar believed we could,” Virgil said. “His will has never led us astray. If Caesar believes we should seek peace with the Forbidden City’s population, then the risk is worth taking.”
“Thank you, Virgil. And you, MacDonald. Your counsel and friendship, as always, mean more than either of you could know. Now I must see Brutus. He has a long journey ahead of him.”
* * *
“Father,” Brutus said with a smile as Caesar entered his home. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow’s Council meeting.”
“I hope it’s not too late,” Caesar said as his son offered a chair.
“No, of course not. It’s a nice surprise. Can I get you something to drink? I just pressed some fresh figs.”
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you. There is something I need to discuss with you, though.”
Brutus sat nearby. “What is it?”
“I have a task I’d like you to undertake,” Caesar said. “It won’t be easy.”
“Anything, Father.”
“I need you to help me correct a mistake of the past.”
“What kind of mistake?” Brutus asked.
“In leading our people, I allowed fear to smolder unseen instead of dousing the flame, comforted in a self-told lie that if none stoked the blaze, it would cease to consume and grow.”
“I… don’t understand, Father.”
Caesar chuckled. “Perhaps I’ve been friends with Virgil for too long. I’m starting to talk like him. In our early days, we faced a turning point when humans from the Forbidden City tried to destroy what we had built. They were mutated and decrepit. Their leader, Vernon Kolp, had served under Governor Breck before the revolution. He and I had… history.”
“He blamed you for his people’s deterioration,” Brutus said. “You’ve told me about him. Obviously, he was a lunatic. Man’s own weapons disfigured the mutants.”
“He was deranged and dangerous, yes,” Caesar agreed. “But not all of his people were. I saw them, Brutus. They were desperate, living among the rubble of a dead civilization. They followed Kolp’s orders because they had no hope left. After he died, the stragglers of his army retreated to the Forbidden Zone. Many in Ape City hailed that as a great victory.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“In the short term. In the wake of the Battle, apes and humans finally began to live as one.” The chimp rubbed his temples. “The longer term is more uncertain. How can Ape City claim to have peace if our nearest neighbors might still harbor a grudge over past wars? Can I end my reign in good conscience, knowing I did not do all I could to stop the cycle?”
Caesar patted his son’s arm. “I intend to form a lasting peace with those in the Forbidden City, Brutus. Help me make this happen. I need you to travel there in my name and invite their leader to negotiate a permanent treaty.”
Brutus’ eyes narrowed. “Is that even possible? It sounds like they fled in humiliation. They’d probably open fire the moment they saw us. They killed the man who raised you, remember, and he was one of their kind.”
“I remember, yes, but Armando was not one of their kind,” Caesar corrected him. “He was a gentle, protective father. You’d have liked him… and he was murdered by Breck’s staff, not mutants.”
Brutus bit his upper lip. “Given what it’s like beyond Ape City, I’m not convinced we should be inviting contact with outsiders, Father. That hasn’t always turned out well in the past. It certainly didn’t for Seraphine.”
Caesar squeezed his son’s hand. “I know. She was taken too soon. I always pictured her at your side when you eventually lead Ape City.” He yawned. “Which might be sooner rather than later, given how tired I’ve been feeling lately.”
“Mother says you need to sleep more. You bring your work home with you.”
“She’s a wise ape, that one.” He looked into his son’s eyes. “I hope you don’t blame all humans for Ser’s death…”
“For a while, I did. Not anymore.” Brutus leaned on the wooden table where he and his wife had once shared meals. “There are good men and bad. She met some bad ones.”
“The same is true of apes, I’m afraid. Aldo killed your brother Cornelius, and he was an ape. MacDonald is not an ape, but I would trust him with my life and yours.”
“I know.”
“He and Tanya care deeply for you, and for your siblings.”
“I know that, too.”
“Help me open Ape City’s arms in friendship. I want that to be my legacy, Brutus. I don’t wish to be remembered as the king who left peace to chance. Beyond our borders lies the unknown. I’ve seen it first-hand, and it can be terrifying, I know, but there’s as much to gain as there is to risk. I’m too old to make the trip, or I’d go again myself.”
Caesar paused, then suggested gently, “Perhaps forging peace with these humans might lend meaning to your wife’s passing. One group of scavengers wounds us deeply, yet we find it in our hearts to embrace another.”
After a few seconds, Brutus nodded. “Of course, Father. I’ll do as you ask.”
* * *
The trek had proved arduous, the summer heat unrelenting for those covered in body hair, not to mention leather armor. This extended their travel time longer than anticipated, stretching food and water supplies thin—which was a big concern for the travelers, but a bigger issue for the horses carrying the expedition and their belongings.
Finally, they reached the outskirts of the Forbidden City. Brutus called a halt and considered the landscape. The chimp had led his team to the decaying ruins, assured by Virgil that they could withstand the radioactive environment for the limited time the mission would require—provided the mutants didn’t kill them outright.
Brutus had discussed with Caesar and his advisors how best to proceed. Unlike past quests to the Forbidden City, they would avoid being stealthy on this one. At best, it would make clear their benign intent. At worst, it left six mostly unarmed targets standing out in the open, waiting to be picked off.
He hoped this would not be a day for worst-case scenarios.
The valley was silent, save for agitated whinnying and the footfalls of travelers unloading their packs. Brutus had assigned a gorilla to monitor each entrance onto the street, reminding them not to take aggressive action without his authorization. He’d suspected it might take a while to grab the inhabitants’ notice, and had ordered his team to set up a conspicuously visible camp between the debris lining either side of the cracked road.
Five hours had passed without any indication that anyone was aware of their presence. Brutus felt a headache coming on, and idly wondered how long a chimp could last amid radioactivity without mutating as well. He checked the detector, which showed safe levels in their vicinity.
Finally, one gorilla gave a signal discreetly alerting Brutus that they had company. Four humans in black hooded jackets approached, their faces thin and scarred, their hair missing in patches. A few had visible tumors. Behind them was an unassuming figure wearing similar garb but lighter in color. The man was slight of frame, his head devoid of eyebrows or other facial hair. He seemed in good health, despite some scarring of his own.
“I am Gorman,” he said in a soft tone. “I speak on behalf of Mendez I, leader of the Fellowship. We’ve been monitoring you since before you reached the city. While our laws no longer condone violence, there are still some among us who would see you eliminated. I’d prefer to avoid that outcome, as it would offend God greatly, but
some wounds heal slowly.”
Brutus noticed a gorilla edging a hand toward his weapon. “Understood, Gorman,” he called out, making eye contact with the soldier, who relaxed. “Our purpose is a peaceful one.”
“As is ours. We are God’s Children,” Gorman said.
“My name is Brutus and I’ve come from Ape City to invite your leader to meet with ours. My father, Caesar, desires a permanent peace between our domains.”
“I see,” Gorman said, appraising him. “Do you desire this as well, Brutus?”
“Where my father leads, I follow. He believes we can establish a friendship for the benefit of all. Please convey this message to Mendez on Caesar’s behalf.”
Gorman studied him for several seconds, saying nothing. The shorn human’s unblinking gaze made Brutus uneasy, but he shook it off. “Come with me,” the man said, “and you can tell Mendez this yourself.”
“Thank you,” Brutus replied, rubbing the back of his neck to lessen his headache. He and his team followed the others deeper into the ruins.
* * *
Class was still in session when the travelers returned. Teacher did her best to keep the students focused, but once they caught sight of the strangers accompanying the expedition, she knew it was a lost cause. Karne and other children ran toward the window as the riders entered the city. Jeric’s twin, Megan, shot a pleading look at Teacher.
“Okay, go ahead,” she sighed. “It’s just about mealtime anyway. But don’t be gone long. We’re not finished with the lesson.”
The students ran outside. It had rained earlier that day, and the horses’ splashing footfalls created a muddy mosaic. Caesar’s prince rode alongside an elderly human. He and his people wore liturgical vestments, differentiated by the color of each rider’s cloth stole. The old man’s stole, like that of a younger man to his other side, was violet. Gorman rode behind them, his stole dark blue. Alongside Gorman was a middle-aged woman, her stole sage green.
The sight was impressive, though Caesar noticed that the scarring and sores on the visitors’ faces made some citizens ill at ease. It unnerved him as well.
