Planet of the Apes 04 - Lord of the Apes

by George Alec Effinger

  Galen then put some down by Virdon, who smiled up at him but made no move to pick up the fruit. “Thanks,” said Virdon.

  Galen sat down, took one of the fruits, and peeled it. Burke watched him with interest, then did the same. “I’ve never seen one of these before,” he said. “What do you call them?”

  “They’re opers,” said Galen. “Didn’t you have them where you came from?”

  “No,” said Burke, “but I’m willing to try one.” He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s kind of odd,” he said. “It has a sort of mushy consistency, like a banana.” He chewed some more. “It is good. Feels like a banana, tastes sort of like an orange. It must be some kind of mutation, obviously subtropical. But if the compass and the sun aren’t loused up, we’re somewhere north of what was San Francisco. We should be eating apples and pears.” He took another bite, staring up at the bright blue sky that glittered through breaks in the foliage above. “Whatever turned this world upside down produced at least one good thing,” he said, looking at the fruit in his hand. Then he grinned up at Galen. “No offense, Galen,” he said.

  “It’s nothing special, Pete,” he said, not understanding Burke’s apology. “It’s just an oper.”

  Burke finished the fruit and peeled himself another. “In our time,” he said, speaking with a mouthful of oper, “we’d call it a banorange or something, and we’d have singing TV commercials, and billboards, and weekly specials at the supermarkets. And you don’t even know what TV, billboards, and supermarkets are. But you have these, and if you didn’t know what they were, I’d be going hungry right now. I’m grateful, Galen.”

  “I don’t understand, Pete,” said Galen, wondering about Burke’s unaccustomed seriousness.

  “I mean,” said Burke, “that you fit in this world, and we don’t, no matter how long we stay here. I see this fruit in my hand, and the only thing I can think about is that there would surely have been a Banorange Bowl along about New Year’s every year, with a contest to pick Miss Banorange, and a parade, and two football teams that couldn’t make it to one of the better bowl games.”

  “Now I don’t understand,” said Galen.

  “Call it a draw,” said Burke. “Right, Alan?”

  Virdon, still lost in his own thoughts, glanced at Burke, hardly having heard any of the preceding conversation. He was still fingering the metal disk on the cord around his neck. “Hm?” he said. “I’m sorry, Pete, I wasn’t listening.”

  “I know,” said Burke.

  “So say it again,” said Virdon.

  “I was only thinking that anybody who believes a magnetic disk is going to get us back home is strictly off his rocker,” said Burke. He laughed briefly, more to let Virdon know that he wasn’t completely serious. But, in a way, he was; unlike Virdon, Burke had left no family, no ties in the old world. He was content to try to build a new life in the new world. He wasn’t satisfied with the ape world, but then he hadn’t been satisfied with the human world, either. All he needed was peace and freedom to pursue his own happiness—and that had been a rare commodity in both eras.

  Virdon realized that he had been fingering the disc, and removed his hand with a quick, embarrassed smile. He was glad that his friends permitted him his quiet moments of memory, because it was possible that in those moments were his final visions of everyone and everything he had loved.

  “Try an oper,” said Burke. “It’s good.”

  Virdon picked up a piece of fruit, glanced at it thoughtfully, then looked back at Burke. “It’s our only chance, Pete, and you know it. I don’t care how you ride me about this disk, it’s our only chance. With it, maybe we go home. Without it, for sure, for absolute certain, we never do.”

  Burke was a bit afraid to answer, knowing that almost anything he said would only start the same old argument they had carried on since their arrival on the planet of the apes. “If you say so,” he said flatly, obviously trying to humor Virdon.

  “I do say so!” said Virdon vehemently. “All the details of our flight are recorded here,” he said, tapping the disk. “It can tell us when, maybe how and where, we hit that time warp. If we run it through a computer, reverse the direction, then—”

  Burke had had enough. “What computer, Alan?” he asked. “Where? Behind that tree?”

  “No, Pete, no,” said Virdon wearily. “We’ve been through parts of what the apes call the Forbidden Zone. We’ve seen places we used to know. There’s been evidence that somewhere, somehow, our entire civilization didn’t disappear overnight. We just have to keep looking.”

  “I do keep looking,” said Burke. “About once a minute, over my shoulder, for gorillas. That’s all that has me worried right now.”

  “There’s got to be . . .” said Virdon, defeated, letting his voice trail off. He struggled to get his mood under control. After a moment, he looked up at Galen. “Do you know this area, Galen?” he asked.

  “Not very well,” replied the chimpanzee. “Our study of geography was limited, and my education was somewhat rudely interrupted.”

  “Are there any settlements near here?” asked Virdon.

  “I’m not sure,” said Galen. “Tell me where we are, and I might be able to make a guess. But heading in the direction we’re going, west, there’s just a large ocean. Between here and there are possibly a few farming communities. Certainly nothing large enough to have one of your computers.” The ape shuddered; he recalled previous adventures during which Virdon and Burke had shown him examples of the ancient, forbidden human knowledge. Galen had seen millenia-old human machines operate in ways that even the intelligent and logical chimpanzee thought almost magical. The one thing that these adventures had had in common was danger. Each time they had been observed and nearly captured by gorilla patrols, whose duty it was to keep the Forbidden Zone off limits to apes and intruders.

  “We’ll search until we—” began Virdon, but he broke off. He was startled by the sound of crashing in the woods some distance away.

  “Listen,” said Galen.

  “I can hear it, too,” said Burke.

  They all froze, listening intently. The sound was of something being thrown around in the underbrush; a few seconds later came grunts and yells of pain. “Humans, I think,” said Galen, using his more acute sense of hearing. Virdon glanced at the others, then swiftly and quietly moved in the direction of the sounds. The others followed.

  The three went stealthily through the woods toward the noises. There was clearly the sound of a struggle, now, punctuated with more cries and grunts. Virdon, Burke, and Galen came to the edge of a clearing and cautiously peered out.

  The clearing was a natural open area in the woodland, dotted with occasional rocks and small boulders. A path through the woods ran along the far side of the clearing, opposite to that where the fugitive trio was hiding. In the center of the clearing, two men were involved in a violent struggle. Both men were of amazing size and physical strength. They were both well over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, extremely muscular, and powerful. The elder of the two seemed to be in his late forties; as he had passed through his younger years and approached middle age, he had not allowed himself to grow soft in any way. His face was badly scarred, almost disfigured. His nose looked as if he had broken it and then had had it reset by an incompetent doctor. The younger man was in his early twenties and showed a quickness that the older man could not match. It was clear to the hidden observers, however, that the younger man was not the dedicated battler that the scarred veteran was.

  The fight between the two men was fierce, but it was fought without weapons. The entire conflict was carried on with their bare hands alone, though brutally and without pity. First one, then the other was knocked to the ground. Neither seemed able to achieve a lasting advantage, however. Each managed to regain his breath and position before the other could close for the final blow.

  “What do we do?” asked Galen.

  “We watch,” said Burke softly. “We have the best seats in th
e house, we don’t know the champion from the challenger, we don’t have any idea who the good guy is, or who the bad guy is. Until somebody comes along with a scorecard, I suggest we mind our manners.”

  In the clearing, the two men were locked in an almost motionless pose. They had grasped each other in the grip of two wrestlers trying to bring each other to the ground. Neither would give way. Their muscles bulged, and the hidden trio could hear both men panting and grunting with effort. Finally, there was a sudden movement by the older man, and the youth crashed to the ground. This time the boy did not move, lying as if stunned. The older man stood over him, then reached down as though to strangle the defenseless boy.

  “I just changed my mind,” whispered Burke. He burst from his hiding place and ran into the clearing, startling both Virdon and Galen.

  “Pete!” called Virdon, but Pete was beyond replying; he had suddenly decided that the fighting was within bounds, but that the older man’s effort to murder the dazed opponent was not, no matter what the original quarrel had been.

  Burke rushed at the unsuspecting wrestler and knocked him off balance. Roaring with anger, the huge fighter turned to face Burke.

  Virdon couldn’t control himself any longer, either, once he saw what kind of trouble his friend had gotten himself into. It was evident that Burke would be no match at all for the gigantic older man. Virdon, cursing under his breath, maneuvered himself within the edge of the clearing, in case Burke needed immediate help. He was of half a mind to let the impetuous astronaut take a bit of a beating first, though.

  The younger man, still on the ground, his head beginning to clear, looked up and saw his former antagonist struggling with Burke. The younger man raised himself to his knees, trying to shake off the effects of his beating.

  Burke and the older man had joined in combat, and Burke was being soundly beaten. The older man’s experience seemed to offset Burke’s more sophisticated techniques; still, after a few solid punches to his body and a near-miss to the side of his head, Burke landed his first blow, a crushing shot that sent his foe staggering backward.

  The youth watched this and jumped to his feet. He charged into the battle, but to both Burke and Virdon’s great surprise, the young man tackled Burke! This was in spite of the obvious fact that Burke had been trying to save the young man’s life. Together, the two former opponents faced Burke, who stepped backward, unsure of what he had rushed into.

  Virdon was in the same predicament. For a few seconds, he was too surprised and confused to understand. Then, before he could make any judgment, the two giants were cooperating in beating Burke into unconsciousness. Virdon rushed in, charging the older man, who had stepped away momentarily to allow the younger man a clear shot of Burke’s unprotected body. Now it was two against two—the two astronauts against the two massive men.

  Galen was still hidden in the underbrush, watching worriedly. He had even less of an idea of what was happening than the astronauts, but he attributed that to the insanity customary when dealing with most humans. From the other side of the clearing, above the noise of the battle, the sharp-eared ape heard something that made him even more concerned, however. There came the distinct sound of horse’s hooves. As soon as he convinced himself of the approaching horse, Galen rose and called out, “Pete! Alan!”

  The horse was coming closer. To Galen it was obvious that its rider, necessarily an ape, was coming along the narrow trail that cut into the opposite side of the clearing. Virdon looked quickly over his shoulder at Galen’s concerned call. “What?” he said, panting from his exertions. He ducked under a wide roundhouse swing from the older of the two fighters.

  “A horse!” cried Galen.

  “Let’s move,” muttered Virdon.

  Quickly, both men disengaged from the battle, rolling suddenly out of reach of their huge antagonists. The astronauts got to their feet as swiftly as possible; the two giants, however, did not want to let them escape. Virdon and Burke shoved them aside, Virdon with a forearm across the throat of the younger man, Burke using the same forward blocking skill he had displayed as a college football player. Then, once clear, the astronauts raced madly for the cover of the underbrush and disappeared from view just as a horse and rider stepped into the clearing on the trail.

  The rider was a chimpanzee of late middle age, wearing the insignia of prefect on his tunic. He reined in sharply and sat for a moment, watching the two giant men in the clearing. His gaze was cynical and clearly one of an ape accustomed to command.

  Both of the large humans were panting from their exertions—from their own fight and their abbreviated battle with the astronauts. The chimpanzee dismounted and walked toward them. His expression changed to one of compassion. He was not an evil ape, not one that plotted in secret, like Aboro, or lusted for power, like Urko. He was merely a local prefect, and these two men were known to him. When he spoke, there was a tone almost of friendliness in his voice. “Training hard, I see,” he said.

  “Let’s keep moving,” said Burke softly, from his prone position behind a large bush.

  “Wait,” said Virdon. “I’m dying to find out what we just went through.”

  “ ‘Dying’ may be the word, Alan,” said Burke.

  “Quiet,” said Virdon. “You started it.”

  “We were training well,” said the older man to the chimpanzee. “We have been training hard, Prefect Irnar, all morning, until two humans, strangers, not from the village, attacked us suddenly. Then, just as suddenly, they ran off. I don’t know what they wanted.”

  The chimpanzee, Irnar, did not appear to be concerned. After all, the mere doings of humans were below his notice. Such a thing was for the gorilla police to attend to. His duties were purely administrative, not really concerned with chasing and apprehending every renegade human that crossed his district. Besides, the gorilla garrison guarded their power jealously and might look at any action by Irnar as trespassing.

  “They were probably outlaws passing through the territory,” said Irnar. “Some of them are no better than wild animals. We have police and an army that are supposed to protect us from these humans. I’ll have the patrols watch for them.” Irnar grunted, dismissing the entire incident from his mind. “Well, now,” continued the prefect with keener interest, “the more important question, Tolar: Is he ready yet?”

  The older man, addressed as Tolar, stepped back from the younger man, looking at him appraisingly. Irnar’s face was creased with a frown of concentration. “Almost,” said Tolar. “Dalton is almost ready.”

  Irnar smiled. “Good, good,” he said. “You’ve done a good job teaching him. I can’t tell you how anxious I am to see him in action. If he shows half as much ability as you, Tolar, I will be greatly pleased.”

  Tolar stood still, quietly proud and pleased by the ape’s compliment.

  Virdon, Burke, and Galen had seen enough. There was no longer any reason for staying nearby, where they might easily be spotted and captured. It was certain that Irnar would not listen to any explanation from the astronauts with sympathy. And as soon as it was discovered that Galen was traveling with two human outlaws, their identities would be known. That meant one thing: they would be back within the clutches of Urko in a matter of days.

  The fugitives moved as quietly as they could while they were in the immediate area of the clearing, trying not to disturb the brush and making as little noise as possible. With Burke leading them, they broke into a sprint through the forest after about fifty yards. As they ran, Virdon suddenly became aware that the magnetic disk was missing from around his neck. He stopped suddenly and Galen almost ran into him from behind.

  “Hold it,” called Virdon. Burke stopped and glanced back, startled. “Wait. I have to go back.”

  “What?” cried Burke. “What are you talking about? We have to make tracks.”

  “The disk,” said Virdon simply. “I dropped it.”

  Burke’s shoulders slumped. “Alan!” he said. “We can’t risk going—” He never got the c
hance to finish his sentence, because Virdon had already turned and was running back toward the clearing. Burke looked helplessly at Galen, who only shook his head. There was nothing to say and nothing to do but follow their friend, hoping that they would stay out of trouble.

  Virdon arrived at their previous hiding place and peered out through the undergrowth into the clearing. Tolar was holding the reins of Prefect Irnar’s horse, while the chimpanzee himself stood a few feet away, glancing at Dalton.

  “I expect to be proud of you some day, young man,” said Irnar to Dalton.

  The young man wore an unreadable expression. “Yes, sir,” he said.

  “You will be, sir,” said Tolar with a touch of pride in his voice. “My son will give you everything you expect.”

  Irnar grunted, then walked toward his horse. “All I can say is keep training, and keep me informed.”

  “I will, sir,” said Tolar. He handed the reins to Irnar.

  Virdon watched and listened. He would have to wait until Irnar rode off and Tolar and Dalton left the clearing before he could begin searching for the disk. He was prepared to wait all day and all night, if he had to. While he watched, he was joined by Burke and Galen.

  Irnar shook out the reins to his horse and was about to mount, when something attracted his attention. He bent down and stared for a few seconds, then reached down and picked up the shining metal disk on its leather thong.

  “Guess what,” said Burke.

  “Oh, no,” said Virdon, groaning. “Maybe he’ll drop it again.”

  The astronauts were not to have that kind of fortune. Irnar straightened up, holding the thong and disk out at arm’s length. He looked at it with great curiosity. “Strange,” said Irnar. “Very strange, indeed.”