Planet of the Apes 04 - Lord of the Apes

by George Alec Effinger

  Irnar glanced at Galen quizzically. “You seem especially eager to see this,” said Irnar, swinging the disk on its thong. “Any particular reason? I don’t think I want to sacrifice part of my collection in the interests of your science.”

  “Just curiosity,” said Galen carefully.

  Irnar smiled, walking back to put the golf club away. “That’s certainly characteristic of us chimpanzees,” he said. He closed the cupboard door and returned to his desk. “Well, let’s both try to restrain our curiosity until a later time.” He opened a locked drawer in his desk, tossed the disk in, shut the drawer, and locked it. Galen felt a sinking feeling, although he knew that all was not yet lost.

  “You’ll stay overnight, won’t you?” asked Irnar.

  “I’m . . . not sure,” said Galen, wondering about Virdon and Burke and whether he ought to extend their stay in Kaymak. The longer they remained, the more vulnerable to detection and capture they became.

  “Of course you will,” said Irnar. “The chance to talk to someone interesting doesn’t come to me very often. Now that I have you here, I insist that you accept my hospitality, at least tonight. I wouldn’t dream of your leaving. Let me find you a place to sleep. Let’s see. Where can we make you most comfortable?”

  Near the corral, the napping gorilla had entered a deeper level of unconsciousness, thanks to the club wielded by Virdon. Virdon and Burke dragged the guard to one side, out of sight. Virdon picked up the ape’s rifle when he and Burke returned to the gate. Burke unlatched the wooden bolt that held the gate closed. “Shouldn’t we tie him?” asked Burke.

  “Nobody’ll find him,” said Virdon. “He won’t be moving for a while.” Without further discussion, the two men entered the corral.

  Irnar was reading a note on his desk. Galen waited patiently. “After all,” said Irnar absently, crumpling the note when he reached its end, “this isn’t Central City. Our accomodations here are simple. Come.”

  Galen followed Irnar across the office to the door. Irnar started to open the door. He turned thoughtfully back toward Galen. “There’s so much I’d like to discuss with you,” he said. “So many aspects of culture that—” He broke off at the sound of unusually loud noises coming from the corral.

  “What were you saying?” said Galen, hoping to cover the neighing of the disturbed animals.

  “Shh,” said Irnar, listening intently. Again there came the anxious whinny of several horses.

  Virdon held one horse by its lead. The animal evidently didn’t like being roused in the night and was unused to humans. It made so much noise that Virdon grew worried. “Come on,” he whispered, “or you’ll wake up the whole village.” He grabbed the lead of another horse as Burke led a third horse toward him. Burke now carried the rifle in his free hand.

  The horses reared and whinnied as the two men struggled to lead them out of the corral. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Virdon saw Burke react, startled by something. Virdon’s view was blocked by one of the animals. He could hear Burke’s anxious voice. “Oh, oh,” said Burke.

  Virdon moved forward for a better view. Directly in front of them, just beyond the corral gate, were three gorillas, each with a rifle pointed directly at the astronauts. Behind the gorillas and to one side stood Irnar and Galen. “Out here!” cried the prefect. “Both of you!”

  Burke and Virdon had no choice but to drop the reins of the horses. Burke dropped the rifle to the ground. Covered by the weapons of the gorilla guards, they moved out of the corral toward Irnar and Galen. Virdon and Burke looked at Galen, who could do nothing but stare back. It would have been very unwise for either humans or the young chimpanzee to show signs of recognition.

  “They’re not from my village,” said Irnar to Galen. “I can assure you of that.” His voice was angry and outraged. “I never have this kind of trouble from my humans.” He turned suddenly, inspired by a thought, to look at Virdon and Burke. “Of course!” he said. “The two outlaws Tolar saw!”

  There was no response from the humans. Irnar shrugged. “Your audaciousness has quite disappeared now, hasn’t it?” Again there was no reply. Irnar turned to one of the gorillas. “Put them in the cage!” he ordered.

  The gorilla stepped forward, prodding Virdon with his rifle. With one last, hopeless glance toward Galen, the two men were marched away by the gorillas.

  Irnar and Galen watched them move away. Irnar smiled at Galen. “Well, now,” said the prefect. “As long as we’re here, perhaps you’d like to choose a horse. I’d like to give you one, but you know that even a prefect has his expenses. But my price will be minimal, for such a friend as you.”

  “Thank you,” said Galen in a dull voice. He was still watching his friends being led away. Irnar, who had already turned toward the horses in the corral, did not notice Galen’s behavior.

  SIX

  The countryside had returned to its peaceful state, despite the intrusions by humans and apes. Virdon, Burke, and Galen had not changed anything in their passage from one village to another except, perhaps, the lives of a few individuals they met along the way. The countryside, however, was untouchable; as soon as the transients disappeared, the wooded, rural scene smoothed itself with silence and tranquillity.

  Just as surely, though, that atmosphere was broken by other intruders. The next to pass along the dusty track that led to the village of Kaymak was Jason, the gorilla aide of General Urko. He paused near a stream, bending down to hand his canteen to one of his troopers. They were all taking a short rest break on their journey. While Jason idly watched his subordinate filling the canteen in the stream, he ate a fruit which would have been as foreign to the astronauts as the opers. Jason was totally oblivious to the beauty of the countryside around him. To a certain extent, Prefect Irnar had been correct about the barbaric nature of the gorillas. But in another regard, Jason was admirably well suited to the area and his task. He was a strong and forceful ape, a resourceful leader, like most gorillas proud of his ability to take care of himself anywhere in the ape empire. Irnar would have been greatly uncomfortable on a journey to the nearest village, twenty miles away; he would have had difficulty finding fruit and fresh water. Jason had nothing but contempt for the softness of the chimpanzees and orangutans, the two varieties of ape who ruled the empire. The gorillas, to Jason’s delight, enforced that rule, and to him that was a good deal more satisfying.

  He threw the core of the strange fruit to the ground, wiped his mouth on the back of his leather-gloved hand, and took the filled canteen from his trooper. Without saying a word, he slung on the canteen and gave his horse a firm kick. Once again he was on his way; his guards followed behind.

  The cage to which Prefect Irnar had referred the night before was a wooden structure attached to one of the buildings that formed the gorilla garrison. Three of the walls of the cage were solid, built of heavy hardwood planks fitted closely together, unlike the usual open, airy construction that the apes favored. The fourth wall, composed of heavy bars, faced the main street of Kaymak. The floor of the cage was covered with straw. It was reserved for special prisoners; normally, the occasional insolent human was imprisoned within the building itself, which was far more comfortable for the inmates and less of a humiliation.

  Virdon and Burke, fast asleep, were sprawled in the straw. Slowly, as from a bad dream, Virdon stirred and awoke, unable for a moment to recall where he was. That was a situation that happened often, for the very good reason that he did not remain in one place long enough for it to make an impression on him. Then, with unpleasant suddenness, he remembered. He looked through the bars toward the street; what he saw there startled him.

  Gathered in the main street of Kaymak, staring back at Virdon through the bars of the cage, was a mass of people. Men, women, children of all ages and sizes regarded him soundlessly. On one side of the crowd stood a gorilla guard, armed with a rifle. He, too, stared at Virdon with mute boredom.

  Virdon was puzzled and somewhat troubled. He had seen many strange sig
hts since his advent in this world, but this was without precedent. He could understand being caged. He could understand the gorilla guard. But Virdon couldn’t understand the silent, almost expectant expressions of the humans who watched him.

  Next to him, Burke moaned in his sleep. Virdon reached over and shook him awake. “Pete,” he called. Burke opened his eyes, glanced at Virdon, and closed his eyes once more. Virdon shook him again. Burke looked up at him, and the blond astronaut gestured toward the street. Burke looked and, as Virdon had before, reacted with a muffled, startled cry.

  “All right,” said Burke. “I give up. What’s going on?”

  “From the look of things,” said Virdon, “we are.”

  Burke just stared for a moment at his friend, but there were no answers coming from Virdon. Both men got to their feet and went to the bars, looking out at the villagers of Kaymak. “What are they going to do to us?” Virdon asked them. “Do you know?”

  There was no response at all from the humans, who continued to stare at the trapped astronauts. The gorilla guard seemed calm and totally unconcerned. There was a touch of tension in Virdon’s voice when he spoke next. “Look,” he cried, “we’re not your enemy.”

  There was no response from the crowd.

  “You don’t seem to be getting through to them,” said Burke.

  Two familiar figures pushed their way through the crowd and came near the bars. It was Tolar and Dalton.

  “Look who’s here,” said Virdon.

  Tolar and Dalton did not acknowledge Virdon’s words. Like the other inhabitants of the village, they stood and observed the two men in the cage.

  “What’s going to happen?” asked Burke. “Don’t you know?”

  Tolar, several inches taller than Burke, stared down at the bewildered astronaut. Then, slowly, almost ritualistically, the huge man bent down and gathered up a handful of dirt. He held the dirt in his hand after he straightened up, looking Burke in the eye, his expression neutral. Without warning, he threw the dirt in Burke’s face.

  This action brought the first reaction from the crowd. A chorus of “Ahhhs” rippled through the mob. Burke jumped to the bars angrily, reaching out with one hand, blindly trying to grab Tolar as he rubbed the dirt from his eyes. “What do you think you’re—”

  “Quiet!” said the gorilla guard in a menacing voice, for the first time making his presence known. The ape intervened swiftly, moving toward the cage, brandishing his rifle. Burke hurried back away from the bars as the gorilla stood there threateningly.

  “Are you all right, Pete?” asked Virdon in a worried voice.

  Burke had regained his composure. “You know how long it’s been since I’ve been this unpopular?” he asked. “The third quarter of the Ohio State game, my junior year.”

  “Quiet!” roared the gorilla.

  Tolar stood patiently watching the reactions of Burke and Virdon. Strangely, he ignored the intervention and presence of the gorilla guard in a way few humans did in that oppressive empire of the apes. This fact was not lost on Virdon, but he didn’t know what to make of it. Tolar treated the gorilla as though the ape did not exist. Tolar seemed uninterested in Burke’s reaction, also, although he watched, like the remainder of the crowd. With a disdainful wave of the hand, Tolar turned deliberately and then walked back among the villagers. The mob parted for him; Virdon noticed that they all wore expressions of admiration as they turned to follow him with their eyes. Then, slowly, the crowd broke up and the humans of Kaymak wandered off, as though their presence were no longer necessary. All of this only served to confuse Virdon and Burke further. The only thing they were certain of was that none of it promised anything good for the astronauts.

  Irnar took a large, heavy book from one of the shelves and opened the front cover thoughtfully. He turned the pages, not really looking at the printed words on them. Behind him, Galen was looking worriedly from a window, toward the cage.

  “These books are my closest friends,” said Irnar.

  “Um,” said Galen. “Yes.” He wasn’t paying attention to the prefect’s words.

  Irnar walked toward Galen with the book. Galen was still staring out of the window. “The prisoners,” said the young chimpanzee. “What will you do with them?”

  Irnar ignored the question. “I found this in an abandoned underground shelter many years ago,” he said.

  Galen, in turn, ignored Irnar’s remark. “What about the prisoners, sir?”

  “Why should you care? They’re only human.”

  “They breathe,” said Galen. “They walk. They talk.”

  Irnar laughed cynically. “You sound like a revolutionary,” he said. “They’re humans, my young friend. The only animal on this Earth that makes war on its own kind.”

  “I know,” said Galen, “but—”

  Irnar broke into Galen’s protest with a curt gesture. “Man is by nature hostile and aggressive. You certainly can’t dispute that, even with your limited experience, can you?”

  Galen bristled somewhat at the mention of “limited experience.” He was certain that he had seen a good deal more of the world than this prefect who had been relegated to the village of Kaymak, for twenty-five years. “Yes,” said Galen. “I mean, certainly, you’re correct there, but—”

  “Listen,” said Irnar, breaking in again, evidently beginning a lecture on one of his favorite topics. “War and revolution. Destruction and murder. That was always the natural outlet for man’s aggression. It still would continue today; but we can no longer allow that, can we? We, the apes of the world, have a responsibility as man’s natural superiors to guide him away from self-destructiveness, a trait which often endangers ape lives and property. Man must be kept docile and unwarlike. But that is a difficult problem, one which even the Supreme Council in Central City has admitted it has failed to solve. But the solution may be simple enough—merely find a less dangerous outlet for man’s hostility. Do you see? Do you understand what I mean?”

  “What does that have to do with—”

  “They’re thieves,” said Irnar, continuing on his well-worn track, ignoring Galen’s reactions. “They’re vandals. And these two prisoners are just perfect examples of what I call the human impulse. ‘The human impulse.’ Very good term for it, I think. And the prisoners. Finally, they will serve a noble purpose, despite themselves.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Galen.

  There came the sound from some distance away, a mournful note like someone blowing on a ram’s horn.

  “Come,” said Irnar. “I know you’ll find this interesting.” Taking Galen’s arm, he led the young chimpanzee to the door.

  Virdon and Burke stood in the cage, just out of reach behind the bars, even though no one had tried to harm them after Tolar’s dirt-throwing of the morning. The gorilla on guard had not moved nor shown any further interest in the prisoners. Irnar moved across the street, still guiding Galen by the arm.

  “I still would like to know what you meant by ‘noble purpose,’ ” said Galen.

  Irnar laughed loudly. For him, the day was going along in a familiar and pleasant fashion. “Was I really that pompous?” he asked. “Did I really say that? ‘Noble purpose’? I can’t believe it.” The two chimpanzees came near the cage. “You know my fondest wish? To spend the rest of my days here as prefect, with my humans, my books, and my plants.”

  Irnar stooped as they came up to the cage. He wore a studious expression as he examined Virdon and Burke through the bars. Galen stood behind Irnar, also looking at them. As had been the case the night before, none of the trio dared show any sign of recognition. Irnar turned to the gorilla. “Which one?” he asked.

  The gorilla grunted and turned to look at the astronauts. He took a good deal of time making up his mind. With a short gesture he indicated Burke.

  “Good,” said Irnar. “It was Tolar’s choice.” There was a slight pause while the prefect considered some matter unknown to Galen or his human friends. “All right,” announced Irnar finally
, “it’s time.”

  The gorilla nodded. Irnar picked up Galen’s arm and their conversation as though the trip to the cage had never been made, as though they had not interrupted a pleasant stroll from the prefect’s house. “A small ambition, I know,” said Irnar, “but its fulfillment would afford me great pleasure.” They continued down the main street, the elder chimpanzee talking endlessly, the younger thinking, plotting hopelessly.

  Meanwhile, the gorilla, his rifle held at the ready, approached the cage. “Get back,” he growled. “Both of you.”

  Virdon and Burke stepped back further from the door. The gorilla opened it and gestured to Burke. “You,” said the ape. “Come.” Burke looked at the gorilla, but didn’t move. The guard gestured angrily with his rifle. “Come!” This time Burke exchanged helpless glances with Virdon and started toward the open door of the cage.

  A villager with a ram’s horn stood outside the stone building on the outskirts of Kaymak. He wore a bright sash, the emblem of the official herald. He raised the horn to his lips and blew another mournful note.

  The herald’s call was hardly needed. Already, the entire population of Kaymak was heading into the stone amphitheater, talking among themselves, laughing, and carrying on in a festive manner. The calls of the ram’s horn cut through the noise of the crowd, but did nothing to silence it.

  On one side of the amphitheater was a marked-off practice area. Tolar and Dalton were wrestling with each other here, much as they had been in the clearing when Virdon, Burke, and Galen had first discovered them. Both of the large men were perspiring freely; their struggles were punctuated with gasps for breath.

  Irnar and Galen approached them around the corner of the amphitheater. “Here are my prizes,” said the prefect proudly. “I’m sure you will appreciate what I am doing here. Perhaps, when you return to Central City, you might indicate to your urban friends that we in the outlying districts sometimes solve their problems with direct action, the sort they’re afraid to take. Ah, Tolar!”