Planet of the Apes 04 - Lord of the Apes
Page 7
Galen smiled at Aboro, indicating that he wished to leave the rest of the tawdry details in the hands of the gorillas. Aboro nodded and indicated that Daku should show the chimpanzee out of the office.
In the small clearing, Burke watched as Virdon melted a piece of wax over a folded letter. A small pool of hot wax dripped on the folded edges of the parchment. Then Virdon pressed Aboro’s seal into the wax. Behind them, Galen paced, nervous as usual.
“I just don’t like it,” he said unhappily.
Virdon looked up from his task. “Who does?” he said. “This matter has grown very ugly. But who could have foreseen those gorillas coming up with the idea to use a professional killer?”
“Yeah,” said Burke distastefully. “And by candlelight dinner yet.”
“Wait a minute!” said Galen excitedly. “There’s something we’ve forgotten. Janor! He won’t wait!”
“Let’s cross that bridge later, Galen,” said Virdon.
Galen muttered something, but the astronauts couldn’t hear. The two men stood and began pushing their way through the brush at the side of the clearing. Galen hesitated a moment; then, his expression changing from consternation to determination, he followed his friends.
The afternoon sunlight glinted on the black leather uniform of Daku as the gorilla rode on horseback at an easy canter through the wooded countryside. He was too engrossed with his own thoughts to notice Virdon, Burke, and Galen lying in wait for him on a rock outcropping beside the road.
“Daku,” said Galen in a hoarse whisper.
“Most of it depends on you, Pete,” said Virdon. “You’re playing the lead role.”
“Don’t remind me,” said Burke.
Daku rode on, unsuspecting of the trio who waited for him to get near enough. Virdon gathered himself as Daku’s horse passed almost directly beneath his position. As Daku reached the point in the trail that Virdon had marked, the astronaut rose to his full height and launched himself downward at Daku, knocking the gorilla from his horse. Galen ran toward the excited animal and gathered the horse’s reins, soothing the beast. Meanwhile, Burke was on the stunned Daku with ropes and a gag, rendering Aboro’s lieutenant helpless. Virdon removed Daku’s pistol from its holster.
“Come on,” cried Virdon, “let’s get off the road. Quick!” Virdon and Burke dragged Daku off the road and in among the brush alongside the trail. Galen stood patiently, calming Daku’s horse.
The gag was put in place around Daku’s mouth, and Burke finished tying Daku’s hands behind his back. Once done, Burke went to the horse, took the reins from Galen, and saddled up. Virdon stuffed a small pouch and the letter into one of the saddle bags.
“Good luck!” cried Virdon. “We won’t be too far behind you.”
Burke gave a wave as he spurred the horse; in a few seconds he was riding furiously down the road in the same direction Daku had been heading before the gorilla had been ambushed.
Burke’s thoughts were confused, partially by the speed and urgency of his mission, partially by the importance and danger of their actions on this day. Rarely in their travels together had Burke, Virdon, and Galen joined in such a devious yet momentous scheme. All Burke could hope for was good luck, good planning, and the fewest number of new surprises. He didn’t want any more unplanned emergencies ruining what was already a hazardous undertaking.
He rode as fast as the poor trail allowed him. He saw the barricade in the road only a few seconds before he would have run directly into it. His teeth clenched and a few words passed through his lips as he reined in the horse. There, in the middle of the trail, was a temporary barrier and three of Urko’s own elite guards. All three stood with their rifles pointed directly at him.
“Well,” said one of the gorillas.
“A human riding a horse,” said one of the others.
“A punishable offense, I believe,” said the third, and the three gorillas broke up in laughter. Burke wondered how moronic a situation had to be before a gorilla would laugh at it.
“Halt,” said the first gorilla. Burke only shrugged. He brought the animal to a reined stop. As the gorillas stepped forward, Burke quickly turned the horse and stormed past the surprised gorillas. The tactic might have worked, except for the two squads of gorilla guards who rushed into the road from the concealing brush. Burke had to swerve; the horse reared. It was all that Burke could do to control the animal. The gorillas all had their weapons pointed at him.
“Okay, okay,” said Burke.
“Get down,” ordered one of the guards. He waved his rifle imperatively. Burke obeyed, standing there with a look of worry and concern on his face.
A few moments later, none other than General Urko himself walked about his private camp in front of his command tent. Urko had a very contented smile on his face. “So,” he said, “my very dear, very old friend Burke.”
Burke stood before Urko, his hands tied behind him, guarded by two gorillas.
“What a great pleasure to meet again after all this time!” said Urko in a terrifyingly cold voice. “A very great pleasure!”
FOUR
The gorilla troopers, the hand-picked guards of General Urko, went about their tasks. Some fed and watered the horses, others waited for the guttural commands of their leader. A good many gorillas still held their blunt rifles on Pete Burke, although the human was bound, helpless, and presented little threat of escaping or harming Urko.
The gorilla general was engaging in one of his favorite pursuits: drawing out each moment of victory, savoring the circumstances in a greedy way that only made each second more of a torture for his victim. “I’m curious, Burke,” said Urko, as he paced back and forth before his captive. “I thought you were cleverer. You’ve demonstrated an aptitude for quick thinking in our previous encounters. At least, I thought you were cleverer and quicker than our humans.”
Burke refused to be baited by the gorilla commander. He had a strong sense of pride, and no thinly veiled insults from Urko could make Burke forget his own heritage. “I got news for you,” he said insolently. “I’m even cleverer than your gorillas, Urko. Not that it takes any real brains to accomplish that. This bunch must be out on a punishment tour. Are you leading them, or are you just part of the chain gang?”
Urko’s eyes flashed at Burke’s contemptuous remarks. Still, the general looked around at his troopers. They did not seem to have earned such spectacular sarcasm. “My guards are picked for several qualities, as you know,” said Urko in a tightly controlled voice. “They must have loyalty. They must be strong. And they must be obedient. Intelligence can be a hindrance, beyond a certain point. But I can assure you, every one of these guards is capable of following any order I might give.” There was a massive threat implied in that final statement.
“In my present condition,” said Burke, “and noticing that I am, in fact, outnumbered, I am not surprised.”
“You have an odd sense of humor for one so near to death,” said Urko, unable to understand just what made this human so different from the pitiable humans he usually dealt with. He stopped pacing and faced Burke squarely. “You must know that the penalty for a human who rides a horse is to be shot. It occurs to me that we’ve been through this before.”
“Maybe I like to live dangerously,” said Burke with a small smile. “But if it makes you happier to know, I got separated from my friends last night. One of your famous patrols was after us again. By the way, I wish they’d either catch us or give up, already. All of this is starting to get on our nerves. Anyway, I split from them and ‘borrowed’ this horse. I was using it to try to catch up with Virdon and Galen.”
“You ‘borrowed’ the horse?” asked Urko. “Where?”
“Does it make a difference?” asked Burke, shrugging.
Urko was persistent. “Was his owner riding him at the time?”
Burke adopted a casual attitude. “Come to think of it,” he said slowly, “he was. He’s probably got himself quite a headache.”
Urko was
silent for several seconds, his expression thoughtful. He knew Burke, and he knew that the three fugitives would not likely split up except under the most unusual circumstances. Lacking any understanding of the present situation, Urko turned his attention to the evidence at hand. He examined the horse Burke had been riding. “It’s a handsome animal,” he said, musing. “It’s obviously a horse that belongs to an official.” He thought for a while longer, then raised his voice to one of the guards waiting nearby. “Any identification in the saddlebags?”
The guard came to attention at the sound of Urko’s voice. He made no reply. He was as silent as a statue, a statue of a very well-drilled, well-disciplined soldier.
“Well?” asked Urko impatiently. “I didn’t ask for a demonstration of your training. I want an answer. Now.”
“We haven’t yet checked the saddlebags, General,” said the gorilla in a slightly timorous voice.
“You haven’t checked them,” said Urko quietly. Then his expression changed to a snarl and he roared, “Why not?”
“We were waiting for an order, sir,” replied the thoroughly frightened soldier. “We did not know if that was what you desired.”
“Do you have to order them to blink, too, General, sir?” asked Burke mockingly.
“I am surrounded by incompetents!” cried Urko, slapping a gauntleted fist againt a leather-clad thigh. “Check them now! Instantly!”
“Yes, sir!” cried the guard, who hurried off to comply with General Urko’s wishes.
Burke turned to watch the operation. Urko stared sullenly. The first guard ran to the horse, while another guard held the reins in case the animal should shy away. The first guard rummaged for a moment in the saddlebags, finally coming up with the wrapped bundle and the folded letter which Virdon had placed there.
“We’re getting some place at last,” muttered Urko.
“If only you’d let me give you some advice,” said Burke. “We humans were in the same place about five hundred years before I was born.”
“I could give you some advice, Burke,” growled Urko. “That’s the kind of talk that’s making me hunt you and your friends from one district to another.”
“Is that why?” asked Burke innocently. “I thought it was just a parking violation.”
Meanwhile, the guard had run up to Urko with the contents of the saddlebag. Urko removed the wrapping from the bundle. The bright sun glittered off a small but hefty bar of pure gold. The flickers of reflected light gleamed in the polished leather of Urko’s uniform and shone in the deep, dark wells that were his eyes. “Gold?” he asked. “This interests me.”
“If I had known about that, I might just have run off and bought myself a farm somewhere,” said Burke.
Urko was not really listening. “Humans cannot own farms,” he said curtly.
“Not in your world,” said Burke. “But your world can’t be the whole world.”
“Be quiet, Burke,” said Urko gruffly. “Well, well. This makes everything so much more enjoyable. Here,” he said to the guard, “put this gold in my tent. Wait, let me see that paper.” The guard handed Urko the letter, took back the gold, and hurried toward the general’s private tent.
“It seems to be an official thing,” said Burke, trying to needle Urko even more by pretending innocent helpfulness. “There’s a seal on it.”
Urko didn’t notice Burke’s tactic, so engrossed was he in the matter. “I know what it is!” he said. He inspected the seal for a moment. “Hmmm. Prefect Aboro’s seal.”
“Aboro?” said Burke. “Isn’t he that gorilla who has that terrific collection of jokes about you and—”
Urko had ceased paying any attention at all to Burke. Eagerly, he ripped open the sealed letter, totally ignoring Burke’s opinion that Urko was tampering with the mails. Urko unfolded the parchment. He read it through quickly, then read it again. For a moment, it looked as if Urko were about to crush the letter in his huge hand, but he did not. There was a silence. Then Urko looked up at Burke with narrowed eyes. His voice was filled with hatred. “You say you knew nothing of this letter?” he said.
Burke shook his head, his eyes wide with innocence. “What do you think I was doing last night?” he asked. “I was in a hurry, remember? I didn’t think about rifling around in the saddlebags on the horse. I just wanted the horse. I had one of your patrols on my tail. Besides, what do I have to do with ape letters?”
Urko was buying nothing, neither Burke’s protestations of good faith nor the possibility that the human was telling the truth. There was a great deal at stake; when the game became so important, Urko became cautious. That was how he had made his reputation and his career and it was how he kept them both intact.
“What indeed?” pondered the ape general. He raised the parchment letter again and read aloud. “ ‘To Amhar of the village of Loban. Urko dinner tonight at nine. Be here one hour earlier for final instructions. Aboro.’ ” The message obviously upset Urko. Being a gorilla and of a similar temperament to Aboro, Urko was fairly certain that he knew what those “final instructions” would be. Fortunately, though, the letter had been intercepted. If what Burke said was the truth, then Urko had managed to save his own life and had detected an important traitor in his chain of command. If Burke was telling the truth.
The entire situation was too deadly, too filled with danger to permit a quick decision. Yet time was running out quickly. General Urko realized that he had come to one of the major crises of his life. And he had very little idea of how to continue. “Kronak!” he called.
Another gorilla guard stepped forward and saluted. He placed his rifle smartly on the ground, its butt pressed next to his boot. “General?” he asked.
“Does the name Amhar mean anything to you?” demanded Urko in a surly voice.
Kronak the guard was silent for a moment, thinking. Like the others of his kind, his memory was slow and dull. Then he answered. “Yes, General,” he said. “There is a human known as Amhar who is believed to be a hired killer.”
Urko stared at Kronak, but made no sound. He waved the gorilla guard away before the subordinate could see that Urko was clearly displeased and worried. Kronak went back to his duties, and Urko stared into the distance, lost in thought.
“Sounds like this Aboro’s planned quite a dinner for you, Urko,” said Burke in a light voice.
“Silence, you,” snapped Urko.
“Yes, sir,” said Burke. “I understand that you need time to consider these latest developments.”
Urko began pacing again, his face twisted in a frown that displayed varying emotions as his thoughts changed. From the look on his face, none of those thoughts could have been pleasant. “All right,” he said, more to himself than to anyone nearby, “it must be that Aboro is summoning this human on another matter altogether.” He slapped the letter.
Burke laughed quietly. “I don’t understand how someone as sharp as you are can keep coming up with the wrong answers, Urko.”
“What is the right answer, then, human?”
Burke spoke casually. “Maybe it’s just that Aboro wants your job.”
Urko glowered at Burke with an expression of pure hatred. “There is more here than you can know,” said the gorilla chieftain. “You don’t have the facts in the matter.”
“Neither do you,” said Burke. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be jumping around like a frightened rabbit.”
“I have had gorillas shot for repeating insults lighter than that in my hearing,” said Urko.
“Maybe that’s why this Amhar is dining with Aboro before you get there tonight,” said Burke.
“One thing that you don’t understand, human,” said Urko through clenched jaws, “is that there is a bond of honor among gorillas. Among all apes. That is what sets us apart from human beings. That is what makes us superior. We are creatures of intellect, strength, and integrity. It would take a human mind to devise a scheme as odious as the one you suggest.”
“Oh, come on!” said Burke. “Let me as
k you this. Weren’t there gorillas ahead of you in the chain of command at one time? Or were you born a general?”
“Of course, there were gorillas more important than me,” said Urko.
“And did they all retire? Did they all die natural deaths?” asked Burke.
Urko was close to strangling Burke. The rage mounted in the general until he could barely control it. But the truth was clear to Urko and Burke; the situation that Urko faced was possibly fatal for the gorilla general, and that matter took priority. Urko tried to make one last effort to dismiss the matter from his own mind. “Aboro is an old friend!” he said. “One of my dearest companions from childhood. And gorillas do have depths of loyalty that your filthy human mind could never understand.”
“Anything you say,” said Burke wearily.
Urko looked up at Burke again, with an evil smile creasing his ugly face. “But we’ve strayed from the main subject, haven’t we, Burke?”
Burke gave Urko a puzzled look.
“The subject of your punishment, of course!” said Urko, almost laughing aloud. He turned to one of the waiting apes and gave the order in a hard voice. “Take him out and shoot him!”
“Hold it!” cried Burke, suddenly galvanized, realizing that his delaying tactic had failed and that more drastic action was called for.
Virdon and Galen were nearby, as they had promised, watching the entire scene. It had played almost exactly as they had planned, up until the moment when Urko disregarded the note and ordered that Burke be taken away and killed. That had very definitely not been in their plans. From their place of concealment along the camp’s perimeter, they could hear every word spoken between Burke and Urko.
“The whole thing’s backfired,” said Galen.
“You are so right,” said Virdon grimly, taking out a pistol; he checked to see that it was loaded, then lifted it and aimed it directly at Urko’s chest. Suddenly, however, he stopped dead. The gun wavered slightly in his grasp.
“No one has told me to ‘hold it’ in a good many years,” said Urko dangerously. “The last time, as I recall, the unfortunate ape who said those words died rather suddenly. A lack of communication between his heart and his brain. A bloody one.”