Planet of the Apes 03 - Journey into Terror
Page 4
“It always is,” murmured Virdon. “Any time. Any place.”
“I’m sorry, too,” said the woman. “I’m sorry for you.”
“Thank you, uh,” said Virdon, realizing that he didn’t know her name.
“I am Arn,” she said simply.
“I am Alan Virdon.”
“Not for much longer,” said the Sergeant. “Now shut up.”
While the gorillas marched Virdon and Arn toward the main street, they were watched by Kraik. The boy stood to one side, not in the least remorseful about what he had done. Hunger is a powerful force. Kraik knew that there was a point when he would do anything for food—anything. He was starving; he was at that point now. He had always been at that point, on the verge of death by starvation.
As the Sergeant, the gorillas, and their prisoners passed the boy, the Sergeant took a leather pouch from his belt and tossed it to Kraik. The boy’s eyes opened wide and he dove for the pouch, not minding the cuts and bruises he took as he scrambled down a mound of debris. He picked up the pouch eagerly and opened it to see what his reward was. The Sergeant directed his men to drag Arn and Virdon away. Arn was protesting that she had done nothing, that she had not helped this stranger, but the gorillas, in their stupid way, would not listen, although they very likely knew that what she said was the truth.
Kraik scurried up the street to find a new hiding place, in case other humans had seen what had happened and were planning to steal his food. He found one of his favorite places of concealment and settled down. He swept away some rubble and lay back contentedly. He opened the pouch, took out some dried vegetables, and eagerly, hungrily, began to cram his mouth full.
TWO
The day passed. Virdon and Arn had been taken into custody, and Galen and Burke had followed their own separate routes to safety. Now the sun had set, and the ruined city took on shadows and moonlit shapes from the tormented nightmares of crazed minds. Burke and Galen had worked their way back to the Institute, the assigned meeting place. They waited, during long, tense hours. They waited, but Virdon did not arrive.
The human and the chimpanzee sat on the floor, their backs against one of the Institute’s crumbling walls. Neither moved for a long while, evidently lost in their separate trains of thought. Galen showed signs of irritability, however. Moonlight shone through a window opening and glinted on his leather gloves as he smacked a fist into his other palm.
“What are we supposed to do?” said Galen, breaking the long silence. “Sit here and wait? There’s got to be something more we can do!”
Burke sighed. The chimpanzee did not feel any differently than Burke himself; but Galen had never taken training such as the astronauts had. Discipline was the most important thing, now. As much as he wanted to go out searching for Virdon, Burke knew that was the worst thing, the most impractical thing, to do. “There is something more we can do,” he said to the impatient Galen. “We can sit and wait here some more.”
Galen looked sharply over his shoulder and glared at the human. “That won’t help Alan,” he said angrily.
“Look at it this way, hotshot,” said Burke, wearily closing his eyes and rubbing them with one hand, “when you joined this outfit, you got stuck with obeying orders from the officer in command. That’s Alan Virdon. It’s that simple.”
Galen stood and went to the window, through which the moon was beaming brightly. He accidentally kicked a large chunk of masonry. The stone set up a loud, echoing clatter in the room. Galen swore softly under his breath. He turned around and faced Burke coldly. “I don’t take orders,” he said.
“Then why are you waiting around here?” asked Burke, laughing.
“There is a difference,” said Galen, sulkily. “I wouldn’t expect your human-educated mind to appreciate the difference. I accept suggestions.”
“Your whole ape world is concerned with prestige,” said Burke. “Urko and Zaius, right at the top. You and me, here at the bottom. It may be the one thing that keeps you from ever coming close to our level of civilization.”
“This is your level of civilization,” said Galen, indicating the ruined Institute and, beyond, the rotting, dead, crumbling city.
Burke had no answer for a moment. “Okay,” he said finally, “Alan suggested we sit tight and wait for twenty-four hours.”
Galen began pacing across the littered chamber. “Think, Pete,” he said. “This is Alan. He is my friend. He has been your friend for even longer. And now he’s in the hands of the gorillas. He could be in a cell somewhere. They could be delivering him to General Urko. He could be wounded, badly hurt . . .”
“Or look at it the other way. He could have gotten away, the way we did. He could be laying low, waiting for a chance to get back here. Now, what would he do if he got here and we were gone, out looking for him?”
“Do you believe that?” asked Galen impatiently.
“No,” said Burke softly. “But I’m trying. Galen, I got news for you. It’s liable to be a long, cold night.” The chimpanzee only nodded and sat down again, huddling against the rough, damp wall of the former Scientific Institute. Together, in silence, the oddly-matched friends waited.
Morning came to the Central City of the apes. Human slaves bustled on their ways to and from assignments. Middle class apes opened their shops for the day. The orangutans, the leaders, sat down for a day’s bureaucratic shuffling. The chimpanzees, the thinkers of the ape world, took up their studies or began their office hours as professors, lawyers, or doctors. And the gorillas, the armed, hostile gorillas, patrolled and guarded against nothing. There were no dangers, none other than the ones that General Urko created to keep his minions sharp.
Morning saw the leader of the apes’ Supreme Council of Elders, Dr. Zaius, and the leader of the gorilla forces, General Urko, leaving the Central City just as the sun tipped the eastern horizon. They rode with a few of Urko’s underlings for protection. Some time later, they arrived at the forbidden city, the deserted, decaying buildings, the rubble-strewn streets, the awful stench, the paralyzing, total silence of the place. The face of death.
The guards who daily patrolled the area had their headquarters in a building that had not been as damaged as its neighbors. Outside, a gorilla stood sentry duty. Urko and Zaius rode up to the building, dismounted, and quickly moved to the main entrance of the gorilla headquarters. The sentry snapped to attention when he recognized his commanding general and the leader of the Supreme Council.
“I don’t think we have to hurry so quickly,” said Zaius, panting from the pace Urko had set. “Not if your guards are as good as you tell me they are.”
“They are good,” said Urko. “But why shouldn’t we hurry? Isn’t this the answer to our problems? Both of ours?”
“Perhaps,” said Zaius.
“You say ‘perhaps’,” said Urko. “Gorillas say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”
“You can’t be wrong with ‘perhaps’,” said Zaius gently.
“You can’t be right, either.” Urko opened the door and moved past Zaius into the hallway inside. A gorilla guarded a door further along the hallway. He was lounging against the wall, sloppy in posture and uniform. In an open office, the Sergeant and his Captain were sitting around a small table, one drinking from a wooden cup, the other playing a curious ape game, a kind of solitaire requiring a wooden board with diagonal marks making diamond-shape spaces. The gorilla played with small pebbles, some dark-colored and some light. At the sound of Urko and Zaius’ footsteps, the gorilla guard in the hallway turned to see who was coming. When he recognized the important visitors, he reacted visibly, snapping to attention. “Attention!” he called out, to alert the officers in the ward room. The guard briskly shouldered his rifle, which had been leaning against the wall. The Sergeant and the Captain hurried to rise, brushing the board and pebbles to the floor so they wouldn’t be noticed. Before they had a chance to further correct the appearance of the office or their own uniforms, Zaius and Urko swept into the small room.
“Well,” said Urko, “I’ll wager that you weren’t expecting a visit from the commander-in-chief today, were you?”
“No, sir,” said the Captain, barely able to speak. He and the Sergeant were frightened and awed by their two visitors.
“I’ll wager that you didn’t ever expect to see me at all, at any time? Correct? That you would just go along in this pitiable forbidden place, running your own show like some feudal landowner.”
The Captain did not answer.
“That’s all very well,” said Urko. “I understand what it must be like out here. And if it weren’t for your prize, you could have done just as you planned. And if things work out to our, uh, satisfaction, you may continue.”
“The General is very gracious,” said the Captain.
“No, I’m not,” said Urko, suddenly surly. “I just want results. I don’t care how you live out here, as long as I get my results. And I’m here, and I want something, and if you want to see nightfall, you’d better supply me with what I want.”
“The General is not gracious,” said Zaius with some amusement, “but he is effective.”
Urko turned abruptly to Zaius. “And which would you rather be?” he asked. Zaius only shrugged. Urko examined the Captain and Sergeant more closely. He turned and looked outside, into the hallway, where the guard had already relaxed again. “Your command could use some drill, Captain,” said Urko. “Live your feudal dream, but don’t let your troops become useless to you. If that happens, you will become useless to me. And when my officers become useless, they become dead.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the Captain, his words faint, “we didn’t expect a visit from the Military Commander and the Chief Minister.”
“Are you offering me that as some kind of an excuse?” roared Urko.
The Captain said nothing; his face showed intense humiliation.
“You’re a detachment of gorillas,” said Urko. “I expect you to bear some resemblance to my guidelines.”
“Couldn’t you postpone that discussion?” asked Zaius calmly. “I don’t share your interest in drill and discipline.”
“Drill and discipline keep you safe,” said Urko roughly.
“Someday, let us get together about that,” said Zaius, walking idly about the small office. “I’d like to know what you are keeping us safe from.” He wearily shook his head.
“You know as well as I do,” said Urko, through clenched teeth. “Otherwise, would you have taken this long ride with me today?”
“I’ll concede that point,” said Zaius. “But, Urko, we have had a long ride. It’s almost noon, already.”
Urko just looked at Zaius, without saying anything. He wanted to make the orangutan ask for anything he wanted. He wanted to prove that Zaius was, in fact, weaker than Urko. Zaius understood what Urko’s strategy was, but he didn’t especially care. Who could see this minuscule struggle of personalities? The Captain and the Sergeant? They were Urko’s men already. What did Urko have to gain? Pride. Well, thought Zaius, pride is something I do not need. Urko can have all he wants. Someday he’ll choke on it.
“My good General,” said Zaius, “once we’ve dispensed with our ideological differences, and you’ve properly established yourself as the sole dictator of your forces, then I think we can get on with what we came here for. I’m tired. Let’s get this over with.”
Urko gave Zaius an ugly look, but turned away to face the Captain. “Bring the prisoner,” he said.
The Captain nodded, then saluted, then said “yes, sir,” unsure which, if any, response was proper. He was glad to get out of the office. When he left, the sergeant followed him, although there was no reason for the gorilla to go. He wanted to escape Urko’s scrutiny as badly as the Captain did.
The long, cold night had stretched on, hour after hour. The discomfort was increased by the inability of Burke and Galen to guess what had happened to their friend. They awoke from light sleep at daylight, stiff and hungry. Galen went to the window. Sunlight, cast light on the scene outside, but little warmth as yet. Galen huddled within the heavy leather tunic he wore. Burke, wearing only the rough homespun material of the humans, suffered more with the early chill, but he did not complain.
“Isn’t it twenty-four hours yet?” asked Galen.
Burke joined his chimpanzee friend at the window. He looked up at the sky, then back at Galen. “Almost,” said Burke. “It’s been almost a day. A couple of hours yet, I think.”
“He’s not coming back!” cried Galen.
Burke thought about how Galen’s outlook had changed during the preceding months. Before Galen had met the astronauts he, like the other apes in the world, thought of humans as a lesser species of animal, something to be tolerated and used as slave labor. Humans could not have creative ability, for their intelligence was severely limited. Humans were needlessly violent. Humans were dirty. Humans were—the list went on and on. But in their mutual adventures, Galen had learned more and more about what humans could be like, if given the chance. And now, wonder upon wonders, Galen considered the two astronauts—the two humans—his friends. This alone branded Galen a renegade among his own people. He had few friends except the two humans who joined him in his travels.
Burke wondered how Galen felt now. Did he hope that Virdon somehow might be able to convince Zaius and Urko that humans presented no threat to the apes’ way of life? Did Galen hope that the apes would welcome Galen back to his old life? None of that seemed at all possible; for one thing, Virdon and Burke wanted nothing more than the liberation of the human population, who were exploited as cheap labor by the overlord apes. Galen knew that; but Galen also understood that Virdon could never convince the ape leaders that ape and man could co-exist peacefully. There were too many shattered cities, too many examples of man’s innate destructiveness, to lull the apes’ suspicions. And, Burke thought, perhaps they were right. “We’ll scrounge around for the stuff to make a battery,” said Burke, avoiding the deeper questions, concentrating on the here and now problems that needed solving.
“I don’t care about batteries!” shouted Galen. He picked up a shard of concrete and threw it against the wall in frustration. “I don’t care about the knowledge you keep talking about. I care about what’s happened to Alan!”
Burke was genuinely moved by this expression of a concern which, of course, he shared. He put his hand on Galen’s shoulder and spoke gently, trying to reassure the young, still-immature chimpanzee. “I know,” said Burke softly. “You’ve got company.”
“Then let’s do something,” said Galen.
Burke looked around himself for a moment, thinking. “We’ve got about an hour to go. We’ll use it looking for him. Is that all right with you? But if we come up empty—well, let’s not get into that. Come on, let’s get a move on.” Burke steadied Galen’s arm as the chimpanzee climbed over a large chunk of stone. Together they went out into the cool air of the morning. The ancient, dead silence of the city struck at them almost like a physical thing.
Not far away, down a few streets and across town about three quarters of a mile, in the headquarters of the gorilla garrison, the answers to Burke and Galen’s unspoken questions were being formed. Zaius had seated himself, while Urko studied the map on the wall. The door opened, a hanging of cloth that one of the gorillas had placed across the open entry at Urko’s order. Virdon stepped through, followed closely by the Sergeant and the Captain of the gorilla guards, each with hand guns drawn. Virdon limped, a fact that was not lost to Urko’s keen, observing mind. Urko walked over to confront Virdon.
It was obvious that Urko was enjoying himself. He had been hunting Virdon, Burke, and Galen for a long time. They had not met often in that time. “Virdon,” said Urko, drawing out the name with relish. “Good to see you again. You should be very flattered. We dropped everything and rushed here as soon as we heard that you were sighted.”
“Captured,” said Virdon flatly.
“Detained,” said Urko, raising his eyebrows.
> “Captured,” said Virdon.
“Certainly,” said Urko, laughing softly. “If you insist.” Urko waited for Virdon to say something more, but there was only a tense silence in the room for a moment. “Let’s not waste time, then, fencing with words, eh?” said the gorilla general. “Where are the renegade ape and your friend, Burke?”
Urko waited for another moment, but Virdon still didn’t answer. Urko, seeing that Virdon was still favoring his injured leg, took a step forward. Then, without warning, the gorilla kicked out at the injured leg. Virdon crashed painfully to the floor.
Urko studied the writhing human for a few seconds. Zaius, shocked by Urko’s brutality, started toward Virdon, but stopped at Urko’s curt gesture. Urko turned to the Captain and the Sergeant. “Help him up,” he said.
Zaius stood off to one side, watching, still disapproving, while the Captain and the Sergeant quickly moved forward, dragging Virdon up to his feet again. He collapsed between them, and the two apes had to hold the astronaut upright.
Urko stepped very close to Virdon. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. There was nothing but pure hatred in the expression of either. “Now, simply, honestly,” said Urko, “tell me where they are.”
“I don’t know,” said Virdon. “That very well could be the truth.”
“But it isn’t,” said Urko. “It never has been. You must have made contingency plans when you split up.”
“Ah,” said Virdon with a wry smile, “I knew we forgot something.”
The Sergeant slapped Virdon for the man’s insolence, as the gorilla guard had slapped Kraik the day before. Urko reacted with anger. He turned to the Sergeant. “Never do that again,” he said, growling. “Never. This is not just a human being. He is an astronaut.” Urko shook his head. “Whatever that is,” he muttered.
Urko was determined to learn the information he knew Virdon was concealing. “Where are they?” he shouted.
“I just told you,” said Virdon helplessly. “I don’t know. Or would you rather that I made up some place, instead?”