Daku eyed the scattering pile of grain significantly. “With luck,” he said maliciously, “I have left you enough grain for one meal every two or three days!” His laughter was an evil thing to hear, and the three fugitives hidden in the barn did not miss the ringing notes of mockery which Daku failed to conceal. At last, the police lieutenant wheeled his horse around and followed Hosson and the wagon back onto the road.
As soon as the wagon and lone rider were out of sight, Virdon led Burke and Galen in a dash from their place of concealment in the barn. Their only concern was for the well-being of their friends; they gave no thought to being discovered by the ape patrol.
“Are you okay, Mikal?” shouted Virdon, as he crossed the distance between them.
Mikal turned to face his friends, his expression one of mixed anger and helplessness. He only nodded, one hand still pressed to the place where Daku had slugged him. “I’m fine, I guess,” he said. “I’ll live. Maybe.” He looked around the farmyard. Burke, Virdon, and Galen gazed with him.
“They have left us only enough to starve on,” said Janor, his voice heavy with bitterness.
“Surely the grain tax can’t be this heavy—” began Galen.
“What tax?” asked Burke with heavy cynicism. “It looked like a plain, old-fashioned shakedown to me.”
Janor nodded his head in agreement. “Aboro takes what he wants, when he wants it. He calls it payment for his protection.”
Burke snorted derisively. “You’d think that after a couple of thousand years, they’d come up with a new name for that racket.”
“People will be people,” said Virdon sadly, shaking his blond head.
“Alan,” said Galen admonishingly.
“Yeah,” said Virdon, “and apes will be apes.”
“Every farmer in the district must pay,” said Mikal, spitting into the dust as a token of his hatred.
“Aboro . . .” said Galen. “Was that the gorilla on horseback?”
“No,” said Mikal, “that’s his lieutenant, Daku. Aboro is police chief of the district. He calls himself ‘Lord of the Apes.’ He has pretty much his own way out here in the far country.”
“The rumor is that Aboro trades the grain for gold, but so far there’s been no proof. Even General Urko wouldn’t stand for one of his underlings taking graft like that,” said Janor. “Urko doesn’t have any love for humans, but he knows enough to keep from getting us into a mood for fighting back.”
“You’re right, there,” said Virdon thoughtfully. “The problem is how to get the apes working against each other without getting the humans caught in the middle.”
“The humans are caught in the middle,” said Mikal angrily. “We always have been, and we always will be.”
“Not always,” said Burke, but his voice was so low that only Galen could hear him. The curious chimpanzee’s brow furled in thought, but he said nothing.
Janor walked to the well nearby and the others trailed after him. For a long moment each was lost in his own thoughts. There was a tense silence as Janor drew water and took a long drink. He offered the water around to the others. Virdon took the wooden ladle and drank deeply himself. Then he spoke.
“That wagon,” said Virdon thoughtfully. “It had so much grain in it. A man could almost keep up with it, if he were walking fast enough.”
Burke stroked his chin, where a brown beard might have once been. “Yeah,” he said in an excited voice, “I was coming to the same conclusion. A good runner could probably pass the wagon by.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Virdon. “That’s what you were thinking. That makes for a pleasant agreement.”
Galen spoke up worriedly. “Not precisely unanimous, however,” he said. “I fail to see how a race, even if one could be arranged through the woods and the twisting trails, would help our friends here.”
“Oh, that’s your trouble, Galen,” said Burke, laughing. “You just don’t think human enough.”
“Once again, for the thousandth time,” said Galen, “I thank you humbly for that verdict.”
“Anyway,” said Virdon, “we weren’t thinking of a race. We had more of, oh, an ambush in mind.”
“Right,” said Burke. “It amazes me how alike we think.”
“We had the same basic training,” reminded Virdon.
“Did they teach you deceit and cunning there?” asked Janor with some amusement.
There was silence for a moment. “Yeah,” said Burke, “I guess they did.” Everyone stared at him for a moment more; then all broke into amused smiles.
“All right,” said Virdon briskly. “First things first. Any idea where Daku will go next?” He looked toward Mikal, who was still rubbing his throbbing head.
“Probably to Darog’s farm,” said Mikal. “It will take them about two hours’ ride from here, particularly in the overloaded wagon that Daku’s driver is leading.”
“Good,” said Virdon. “Now, are there woods the wagon will have to go through, like the ones around your farm here?”
“Yes,” said Janor quickly. “The Great Forest. It’s much larger, much denser. Why?”
“Because—” said Burke.
“Because,” said Virdon, “that’s where we’ll be waiting for them!”
“We’re coming with you!” cried Mikal.
“No!” said Virdon, his voice cold and commanding.
Janor protested the astronaut’s simple decision. “But this is our fight, Virdon—not yours! We can’t let you handle all of our battles for us. We have pride, we have anger, and we have our self-respect.”
“Look,” said Virdon forcefully, trying to convince the aroused brothers, “if they catch us, well, we’ve been on borrowed time for quite a while anyway. We’ve been through this routine before, and I figure we must be getting good at it, or else we wouldn’t even be here. But you two, you’ve worked hard for your farm. If they catch you, what happens?”
The answer came swiftly and chillingly from Mikal. “Death,” he said in a sullen voice.
Burke took another drink of water and offered the ladle around again. There were no takers. “Our defense rests,” he said.
The light which filtered down through the thick foliage of the trees was unlike the bright, warm sunlight that had bathed the three friends at the farm of Mikal and Janor. Burke, Virdon, and Galen had followed their scheme and secreted themselves in a part of the Great Forest, following the directions given them by the brothers. Virdon stood alone alongside the grassy lane that wound its way through the forest, a coiled rope in one hand. He stood unmoving, looking to one side. High above his head, Burke and Galen, only half-hidden by the leaves of a large tree limb, also stared in the direction from which they expected company momentarily. Suddenly Galen stiffened. His superior sense of hearing picked up a new and disturbing sound. “Someone’s coming!” he called down to Virdon.
Virdon signaled that he understood, then made another sign that the two in the tree should retire further, to conceal themselves. Burke and Galen disappeared. Virdon stepped quickly behind another tree. There was a long, tense moment. Virdon waited, poised, his muscles almost aching. Then he, too, heard the sound. It was the noise of someone running. That was wrong. They were waiting for the distinctive clopping of horse’s hooves and the creaking of a wagon. Then, just in Virdon’s line of sight, into the small clearing the three fugitives had chosen, came Mikal. Panting from near exhaustion, he stopped and looked around. This was the area he had described in detail to Virdon. When the astronaut appeared silently from his hiding place, Mikal whirled in near panic.
“Mikal!” cried Virdon, almost angrily. “What are you doing here?”
“You know,” said Mikal. “I’ve come to join you.”
Burke had followed the whole scene from above and leaned out along the tree limb. He, too, was upset by Mikal’s appearance. “No way, man!” he called down. “We’ve already been through all of that at least a dozen times.”
Galen’s voice joined them
. “What about Janor?”
Mikal was slow in replying. “I told him that I was going into the village.” There was another slightly embarrassed pause. “I had to come. This is our fight.”
There came a warning sound from above. “Shhh!” murmured Burke from his place among the leafy boughs.
Everyone froze, Burke and Galen in the tree, Virdon and Mikal on the ground. They stood poised, listening, fearful. After a moment, the heavy noises of the approaching wagon broke the fragile stillness of the sunlit forest.
“All right, that caps it,” said Virdon, grasping Mikal roughly by the arm. “Mikal, get up in the tree with Burke and Galen.”
Mikal needed no second urging. He had decided to come and aid in the fight, but beyond that noble inspiration he had formed nothing in the way of a plan. From now on, he was at the mercy of his friends; at least they seemed to have some idea of a course of action. He climbed up the tree and out of sight among the leaves and branches. Virdon stepped back to his hiding place, out of sight. There was a long moment, during which the only sounds were the lumbering noises of the cart; then the steady hoofbeats of Daku’s horse were heard. Suddenly, at the other end of the clearing, Daku appeared, on horseback as before, but this time not even cantering. He was so sure of his invincibility in this, his own realm, that he had dropped even the most rudimentary of precautions. Behind him appeared the wagon, Hosson the gorilla trooper on the wagon seat, holding the reins. Seconds passed as Daku, the wagon close on his horse’s hooves, neared the spot where Virdon and the others hid.
Virdon leapt from behind his tree trunk, catching Daku entirely by surprise. The astronaut whirled his homemade lasso around his head and then let it fly. The rope’s noose settled about the startled Daku’s head and shoulders. Virdon pulled the rope tight and the lasso grabbed Daku’s torso even more forcefully. With a single jerk, Virdon pulled the incredulous Daku from his horse.
Meanwhile, Burke and Mikal had dropped from their tree limb right on top of Hosson, knocking the driver from his perch onto the ground, where he fell stunned and unconscious.
“Need any help?” asked Burke.
“No,” said Virdon, slightly out of breath, “it looks like this one is out cold.”
Galen jumped down from the tree and climbed up onto the driver’s seat, picked up the reins and began to turn the wagon around. “We’d better hurry!” he cried.
“Right!” answered Virdon. He turned to Mikal. “You see, Mikal,” he said, “you weren’t necessary in this battle. You could only have caused yourself trouble. From now on, I hope you follow your brother’s example a little closer.”
“You won’t understand will you?” asked Mikal, eyes downcast; but his voice was filled with with suppressed resentment.
“Forget it, forget it,” said Virdon. “I didn’t mean it to sound as harsh as it did. I just don’t want to see you taking unnecessary risks.”
“I’ll have to decide whether or not they’re necessary,” said Mikal.
Virdon decided to change the subject. “We’ll hide this grain in that cave you told us about. That’s the next order of business.”
Mikal only nodded, still unsatisfied with Virdon’s reactions.
“You tell the other farmers that they can reclaim their grain as soon as it’s safe,” said Virdon.
Mikal clasped Virdon’s aim. “We’ll never forget you for this!” he said gratefully.
“Forget it,” said Burke. “Saving the world is our business. We’ve decided to go into it full time.”
Virdon clapped Mikal on the shoulder. He turned to see that Burke had run after the wagon, which Galen was already driving away. The two astronauts caught up to it quickly and both leapt aboard. Galen gave the reins another jerk and the wagon lumbered slowly away, back in the direction from which it had come.
Mikal stood in place watching his friends, thinking his private and somewhat confused thoughts. He didn’t notice that, practically at his feet, the body of Daku stirred very slightly. The police lieutenant was regaining consciousness, but not yet moving noticeably. His eyes squinted as he looked after the wagon and his unknown assailants. His vision was blurry and out of focus. He could recognize nothing except the wagon, which seemed to be driven by an ape.
After a moment, Daku’s vision cleared slightly. He still had barely moved, but his head had turned so that he could get a good view of the human who stood over him. Mikal still remained in place, watching his friends as they disappeared around a curve in the forest trail. Daku’s eyes narrowed as he studied the human, one whom he recognized well enough. Then, slyly, the gorilla’s eyes closed as though he were unconscious.
“There were three humans,” cried Daku, “but the only one that I recognized was that troublemaker, Mikal. And I did recognize him. I’ve had dealings with him before.”
Daku was standing before the large wooden desk of Chief Aboro, in the latter’s headquarters office. The desk was highly polished and virtually empty of objects—a symbol of Aboro’s authority and power. He called himself ‘Lord of the Apes,’ although in truth he was only a local official. But in this part of the ape empire, it was rare indeed for any superior officer to interfere with Aboro’s supreme judgments.
Now Daku stood nervously before the desk of his chief. He knew that his story would not be received well. Nevertheless, there was nothing else to do; Aboro would learn the truth, one way or another.
Aboro leaned over the bright surface of his desk, his leather uniform and the epaulets of his rank glistening in the desk’s reflection. “So,” he said, his voice deceptively soft, “two armed police guards—one of them my own trusted aide—allowed three mere humans—” (it is impossible to convey the huge amount of contempt which Aboro loaded onto the word “humans”)—“three mere humans, unarmed humans, to overpower my apes and steal a wagonload of my personal grain. Is that correct? Do I have the story principally as it happened, Lieutenant Daku?”
Aboro’s voice grew gradually louder from the soft beginning, until at the finish he was virtually shouting, his words angry and voice deep with hatred. Daku shook nervously. He knew that he was in the gravest trouble of his career. His entire future depended on what happened in the next few moments.
“Exactly, sir,” said Daku weakly.
“A wagonload that would have brought me ten kilos of gold!”
Daku shrugged, trying to appear calm. “I have explained, Chief Aboro, they surprised us—”
“Surprised?” cried Aboro, half-rising from his seat, his fists clenched, his face knotted with fury. “My first instinct is to have you taken out and shot! But that won’t get me back my grain.”
“No, sir,” said Daku, thinking about his potential execution and not thinking about Aboro’s grain at all. “Nor will that, however satisfying it might personally be for you, take care of your ‘payments’ in Central City this month,” continued Lieutenant Daku after a moment’s hesitation. His inspiration might just save his life, after all. To Aboro, the ten kilos of gold was the important factor. Daku had made his point. He only hoped that Chief Aboro would agree.
Aboro frowned reflectively. “If the grain is not recovered,” he said slowly, “and if the outrageous theft is not punished, the humans may very well refuse to make any further contributions to me.”
“Rest assured,” said Daku, calm now that the idea of his execution seemed to have been put at least temporarily to rest. “I will deal with Mikal myself. Quickly and harshly.”
Aboro shook his head. Once again, his voice was fearsomely quiet. “I will take charge of this,” he said.
Daku’s mood changed instantly. He became immediately silent and respectful. “By all means . . .” he said lamely.
“Mikal will be made an example of,” said Aboro fiercely. “But not before he has told us where he and his companions have taken my grain!”
The next day, under a bright sky and a warm sun, five uniformed gorilla soldiers rode at breakneck speed along a broad, rutted road through the rolling
countryside: Police Chief Aboro, the self-styled ‘Lord of the Apes’; his lieutenant, Daku; and three armed gorilla soldiers. Aboro led the way, his expression one of mixed expectation and hatred. The gorillas did not speak and they did not stop to rest their mounts. They rode as though the fate of their careers rested on the outcome of their mission. For the soldiers and for Daku, at least, this was painfully true.
There was a hidden cave; Mikal had mapped its location for Virdon, Burke, and Galen. The wagon which the three fugitives had stolen from the apes was backed up to the cave mouth as close as possible. Galen, Virdon, and Burke were working desperately to unload the sacks of grain quickly. Their main desire was to remove all sources of evidence as soon as they could. Finally, after a great deal of work and sweat, the last sacks were handed down from one of the three to the others, and deposited inside the cave. The three friends at last were able to straighten up and relax from their arduous task.
“That’s a relief,” said Burke.
“I’m glad that’s all over,” said Galen.
“It isn’t all over,” said Virdon simply.
“Have you noticed,” said Burke to the chimpanzee, “that when Alan is in charge, the job usually takes three times as long to finish?”
“I’ve noticed that,” said Galen. “I assumed that was another strange, inexplicable human trait.”
“You may also have noticed,” said Virdon with some humor, “that when I’m in charge the job finishes up in better condition.”
“No,” said Burke, “I hadn’t noticed that.”
“I have nothing to add,” said Galen.
“All right, knock it off,” said Virdon. “Let’s hide the entrance.”
All three began dragging branches and limbs, many heavy with leaves, toward the cave mouth. They were preparing to disguise the cave completely from view. Before this job could be completed, however, Pete Burke interrupted. “Hey, Alan,” he said curiously.
Virdon looked over at his friend with a puzzled expression.
“We’ve been here before,” said Burke. “About a thousand or two years ago, to be exact. I’m losing track. I mean, it looked a little different then, but . . .” He stopped, stood up straight, looked around the scene, then nodded his head in a definite manner. “See anything familiar about that mountain?” he asked.
Planet of the Apes 04 - Lord of the Apes Page 2
