Planet of the Apes 03 - Journey into Terror

by George Alec Effinger

  Martin answered, so that Galen would not have to use his little remaining strength speaking. “Without the proper serum,” said the blacksmith, “the bite of the tiger scorpion is fatal. Always.”

  “You should have done something, Galen,” said Burke. “We could have handled the gorillas easier.”

  At this point, Greger rounded the corner, attracted by Galen’s scream. He arrived just as his father spoke and instantly understood the situation. “Your friend the ape is dead without that serum,” said Greger.

  “Where can we get it?” asked Virdon.

  Greger was still unsure that two human beings could be friends with any ape. He didn’t know whether he would want to help one, no matter how much the ape suffered. “Town,” said the youth curtly.

  “Okay,” said Burke. “Hang in there, Galen.”

  Burke was ready to race off toward the town, which he didn’t even know the name of. He was stopped by Greger. “It’s five miles,” said the boy. “By the time you got there and back again . . .”

  Virdon spoke up. “Martin,” he said, “I’m going to, uh, ‘borrow’ one of the horses.”

  “What?” cried Martin. The idea outraged and frightened him, for Virdon’s sake.

  “It’s Galen’s only chance,” said Virdon.

  Martin shook his head doubtfully. “You’d never get to the town without being seen.”

  “What other choice is there?” asked Virdon.

  “My father is right,” said Greger. “This chimpanzee is so important to you, that you’d risk almost certain death for him?”

  “He is our friend,” said Burke. “That ought to be enough.”

  “I’ve ridden before,” said Virdon. “Maybe—”

  “I’ll take a horse and go,” said Greger.

  “No way,” said Burke. “If any human takes a chance on riding for that serum, it’ll be Alan or me. Galen is our friend.”

  There was a moment’s pause. Greger looked down at the suffering Galen. “I’d like him to be mine, too,” he said. There was no reply from Virdon or Burke.

  “Believe me,” said Greger, “I know a back way. I’ve done it before, you haven’t. I can be there and back in no time. I’ll bring the serum. You two probably wouldn’t make it and Galen would die. Then you’d have caused two deaths for certain, and probably left the third to be discovered, not to mention the penalty that would fall on my father and myself.”

  There was a quick exchange of looks between Virdon and Burke. What Greger said made a good deal of sense. Neither of the astronauts had ever been to this town, while Greger said that he rode there often. Finally, bowing to the logic of the situation, the two men nodded their agreement.

  Greger ran back to the barn to prepare a horse for the journey. Virdon and Burke lifted the now unconscious Galen. Martin led them toward the barn, where they could prepare a sick bed for Galen without the risk of being spotted by gorilla patrols. Greger had placed an old, cracked saddle on the back of a horse, and had mounted it. Without a word of warning or farewell, Martin watched his son walk the horse from the barn. The blacksmith turned to stare at Galen, and at the chimpanzee’s two strange human friends. Martin heard the sound of the horse’s hooves as Greger rode away. “If only he hadn’t moved,” said Martin. “If only Galen had remained still. The scorpion never bites if you just don’t move.” He spoke to himself, and received no answer or comment from Virdon and Burke, who hovered over Galen, unsure what to do.

  Martin rubbed his eyes wearily. Outside, the sound of Greger’s horse had died away. All was silent. The blacksmith thought about his son, and about the gravely ill Galen. He didn’t know if his greatest concern was Galen’s scorpion bite or the danger which now centered upon his son as a result of it.

  Greger was true to his word. Avoiding the road and the settlements of the humans and poorer apes, he rode the horse across fields and through stands of trees on the way to the town. He ducked beneath low-hanging limbs and raced his horse through narrow streams. Soon he neared the village of Venta.

  Because the area was horse country, although apes alone were legally permitted to ride them, the town had a feed and grain store, a saddlery, and other related shops on its main street. Some human workers carried sacks of grain from a cart into the feed store. Outside a livery stable, two apes were engaged in a spirited bit of horse trading. The saddlery displayed plain but functional equipment; the apes had little taste for decorative or nonuseful items. As in every small town in the ape world, humans appeared on the streets only as servants or slaves of the ape masters. It appeared to Greger, however, that there was an abnormal amount of activity in the town for that particular time of day. He shrugged, putting the matter out of his mind. He had other things to do.

  Greger stopped at the end of the main street and considered. It would be foolish to ride up to the doctor’s office. He made a wide detour, heading back out of town a short distance. He did not dare go too far, because time was short; but he knew well the limits of safety.

  Greger rode beyond the furthest building of Venta, back into a dark, wooded area. He directed the horse into a deep cut. The horse shied a bit at climbing down the embankment, but Greger urged it forward. He dismounted and tethered the horse to a tree, then hurried back toward town.

  He ran as fast as he could; the distance was less than a quarter mile, but Greger was out of breath when he arrived at the doctor’s office. That was good. It would make his story seem more believable; after all, he wasn’t allowed to ride a horse. He would have had to run all the way from the blacksmith shop.

  The clinic was a whitewashed building near the center of the main street. As Greger arrived, a bandaged ape was led from the entrance by a uniformed ape nurse. Greger knocked at the entrance door and waited. After a moment, the door was opened by another ape nurse in a blue smock.

  “Well, human?” asked the nurse, looking displeased at having been interrupted in her work.

  “Excuse me,” said Greger with mock deference, “but my brother was bitten by a tiger scorpion.”

  The nurse’s expression did not change. Greger might just as well have announced that it was going to rain. “How long ago did this happen?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t very long at all,” said Greger. “Minutes. As soon as it happened, I ran here.”

  The nurse looked at Greger for several seconds. She was plainly perplexed. “Are you telling the truth?” she asked. “If it has been longer, the serum will not help him. It costs money, you know.”

  “I am telling the truth,” said Greger.

  The nurse sighed. She had so much responsibility, and the humans only made her job more difficult and more complicated. “I never know when humans are lying or telling the truth,” she muttered. “Ah, well, the prefect has ordered that the humans be kept healthy. Wait here.”

  Greger nodded. The nurse disappeared into the clinic. It seemed that everything was going well. The only problem would be whether the serum would reach Galen in time. Greger began to fret impatiently. He glanced down the street, fearing to see a gorilla guard that might be suspicious. He saw none.

  At the end of the street was a small, open, sparsely furnished house. It belonged to the prefect of the district, a chimpanzee named Barlow. During the day, Barlow kept his official office hours in his house. Now, Barlow stood by a large window, staring out at the busy town. He frowned as he watched, evidently unhappy about something. One hand rested on the window sill, but the other tapped nervously against the wall. Behind Barlow, a door opened. At the sound he turned to see who had entered. It was his aide, a human named Dath, carrying a saddle.

  The human bowed his head slightly in recognition of Barlow’s authority. “Here’s your new saddle, Prefect Barlow,” said the aide. “It just came in.”

  “Fine,” said Barlow. He came around his desk, toward Dath. He took the saddle from him.

  It was a good saddle, an expensive piece of equipment that Barlow had ordered specially, all the way from Central City. He
examined it, pleased at first; then, gradually, he became unhappy again. “It’s no use,” he said. “We have no chance of winning the race. Urko’s horse will win as usual.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair,” said Dath.

  Barlow stared at Dath bitterly. “Fair?” he cried. “When has Urko ever been fair? Look at the way he had me transferred here, from my native village. Urko has never been fair. He has no need to be. He is Urko.”

  There was a strained, uncomfortable silence in the office. Then Barlow spoke again, brooding. “And the stakes in the race!” he said. “Can you believe it? Half my horses, and half my lands, if I lose! And of course I’ll lose!” Wearily, the prefect of Venta sat at his desk.

  Greger still waited outside the clinic. He wondered for a moment if the nurse had forgotten him. He did not know what kind of routine was involved in getting the serum for humans. For a moment, he pictured how difficult it would be to explain to his father and the two strangers just why he came back empty-handed.

  At last the door to the clinic opened again. The nurse stood there, holding a vial. “Here is the serum,” she said.

  “Thank you,” said Greger. He didn’t even wait for instructions, but dashed off down the street, toward the place where he had concealed his horse. He turned down a small alley and headed for the woods. The nurse stared after him for a moment, then shrugged and returned to her work. She didn’t particularly care whether the serum saved a human life or not.

  Zandar, accompanied by three gorillas, walked their horses slowly through the gloom of the forest. It was pleasantly cool and quiet among the trees. They stopped when Zandar raised a hand, near the mouth of a small arroyo. Zandar reined up and dismounted tiredly. “We’ll make camp here,” he said. “I suppose we could go on to the village and stay there, but I’ve learned from experience. There will be too many loud-mouthed humans there, for the races. Urko and his races. Sometimes I wish the whole thing was someone else’s problem.”

  The gorillas began unloading their gear from the horses. One of the gorillas began gathering firewood in various sizes. Another set out to find a supply of fresh water. Zandar just sat on the ground, his back against a large tree. None of them saw Greger as he appeared above them, on a ledge overlooking the arroyo’s mouth. When Greger caught sight of the gorillas, though, he froze. For a moment he panicked; then he forced himself to think calmly.

  Greger remembered his father’s warnings, and then he recalled how his father always taught him to be cautious. Greger decided to take things slowly and reason them out. He watched the apes as they prepared their camp. So far, Greger was in no immediate danger or trouble. He wanted to keep it that way. Greger’s horse was tethered not far down the arroyo, at the closed end.

  Greger thought and arrived at his decision. He tucked the vial of serum inside the waistband of his trousers. Then he looked up at the sky, as though there might be some help coming from that quarter. There was no more time to waste. Greger took a deep breath and moved as silently as he could along the ledge. He moved above the heads of the apes. They did not see or hear him. He stopped when he was directly above his horse. He looked down and measured the distance carefully, then slipped quietly into the arroyo. Some gravel fell with him, making more of a noise than the boy did himself. Then, worse, when Greger approached, the horse whinnied in recognition.

  Several yards away, at the apes’ camp, the noises broke through the stillness of the forest. The gorillas reacted; in the calm quiet, the sounds had the force of an explosion. Zandar and Zilo moved toward the noises, curious.

  Zandar pointed, and Zilo moved to the other side of the narrow opening. Together they moved into the arroyo. Then, suddenly, Greger rode wildly out of the arroyo, right through the apes, scattering them. At the same time he let out a kind of war whoop as he rode by.

  “It’s a human!” shouted Zandar. “It’s a human on a horse! Did you see his face?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Zilo. “It looked to me like the son of that blacksmith. The one I threatened.”

  “Should we chase him?” asked one of the other gorillas.

  Before Zandar could reply, the fourth gorilla had retrieved his rifle and raised it. He aimed at the rapidly moving rider; it was a difficult shot, because of the distance and the trees. The gorilla fired, but the shot only tore through the thick foliage far to Greger’s left.

  “Mount up!” cried Zandar. “Ride after him! Shoot to kill!”

  The apes scrambled onto their horses, checked their weapons, and spurred their mounts after Greger. The chase was wild and dangerous, for riding at high speed through a forest was an invitation to a broken neck.

  Martin had a small hut between his blacksmith shop and the barn. There was only one large room, where Martin and Greger slept, ate, and rested after the day’s work. Galen had been moved into the hut from the barn. He lay on Martin’s bed, moaning deliriously. Burke sat by him, feeling the chimpanzee’s pulse. Virdon paced the floor. Martin stood by the large open window, staring out, depressed and anxious.

  Outside, the day was still warm and silent. There was nothing in the air to show the strain of the day’s events; far away, crops grew. Birds wheeled in the sky overhead. Only the sound of horse’s hooves made Martin watch the road anxiously. Would it be Greger? Or a squad of gorillas?

  Greger, his horse limping, rode into the barnyard. Martin, Burke, and Virdon ran out of the hut to meet him. “You made it!” cried Burke jubilantly.

  “Good work, Greger,” said Virdon.

  “Greger,” was all that Martin could say.

  The youth was still breathing hard from the chase. He slid off the horse and staggered a little. Then he reached into his trousers and handed the vial of serum to Burke, who dashed immediately to the house. Virdon remained outside only long enough to put his hand on Greger’s shoulder and say, “Thanks. For Galen.” Then Virdon, too, turned and ran toward the hut where the sick chimpanzee rested. Martin came nearer to his son and looked at him; on the father’s face was gratitude that Greger had succeeded safely. But Martin’s expression changed when he saw what his son was pointing to.

  “What’s that?” asked Martin, although he knew very well what it was.

  “A wound,” said Greger. Martin was silent for a moment, very afraid to continue the conversation. He knew there was trouble here for them both.

  “The horse!” said Martin finally. “What happened?”

  Greger was still shaken by his narrow escape. He recalled the events of the last hour; it seemed to him that a great deal more time had passed than that. He felt that he had aged a full year in the space of sixty minutes. He knew that the details of the scene would only fret his father needlessly. “It’s only a flesh wound,” he said, trying to make light of the affair.

  “I can see that,” said Martin. “But the point is, for the horse to have been wounded, there must have been a great deal more happening. Now we are in trouble!”

  Greger was impatient with his father, who always seemed to see things in their worst possible aspects. “It’s not serious, Father,” said Greger. “The bullet was deflected by the shoulder blade. The horse will be all right.” He turned and rubbed the wounded area. The horse made a soft nickering sound. Greger managed a bit of a grin. “After all,” he said, “just be glad they missed me.”

  “Who missed you?” demanded Martin. “Where? When?”

  Greger just shook his head and began working over the horse’s wound.

  Inside the hut, Virdon had taken the serum from Burke and was preparing to administer it. He had poured the serum from the vial into a large spoon. Burke held Galen’s shoulders and head up from the cot, to receive the medicine. Virdon put the bottle down and brought the spoonful of serum to Galen’s lips. At first, the delirious chimpanzee had no idea what was happening. Galen believed that he was being threatened. He swung an arm weakly at his imagined attacker. Virdon raised the spoon and brought it back out of Galen’s reach without spilling any of the serum. Burke held Galen
’s arms; with his free hand, Virdon forced open the chimpanzee’s mouth, and then deftly slipped the dose of serum down Galen’s throat. Galen made a face, snorted, and swallowed. Almost immediately, the exhausted ape relaxed and went to sleep. Burke let him lie back; the astronaut sat on the floor beside the bed, struggling to control his emotions. Both men watched the still form of the chimpanzee. Galen’s face seemed peaceful. Virdon began pacing the room, thinking.

  “Martin says the serum works within half an hour,” he said.

  “If it works,” said Burke. “You know ape medicine.”

  “We’ve had experience with ape doctors before,” said Virdon in agreement, thinking back over their long road since crashing in this strange world. “I suppose I’ll go see if I can help with the horse.” Virdon went outside, leaving Burke alone with Galen.

  Virdon was a good deal more worried than he wanted to reveal to his friend. Ape medicine was an incomplete science; much of the knowledge that humans had discovered had been lost, and in the practice of medicine, the apes relied just as much on superstition and magic as they did scientific judgment. Virdon emerged from the hut, but he stopped in the yard as he saw the scene before him. Greger was working on the horse’s shoulder, while Martin looked on, obviously worried, nervous, and fidgety. Virdon guessed that something serious had happened during Greger’s journey, something the astronauts still knew nothing about.

  Virdon decided that the best thing would be to find out just what happened. When the situation concerned horses, humans were immediately put in jeopardy. If that was the case, on account of Galen and the astronauts’ worry for their friend, Virdon thought he ought to help wherever possible. “Let me at that, Greger,” he said. “I’m an old hand with horses.”

  For a moment Martin looked at Virdon sourly; he blamed the blond man for bringing trouble. Then Martin’s common sense took over. Greger stepped aside and Virdon began examining the horse’s wound.

  Virdon felt a chill spread through him as he saw what had happened. There was a creased wound on the horse’s shoulder, the path of a bullet. The bullet itself was still lodged against the horse’s shoulder blade. As Virdon explored the wound, the horse flinched and reared. Virdon knew that the horse was in little danger; it was the implications of the wound that worried him. For the bullet to be there, a gorilla had to have fired it. Virdon didn’t like that at all. “Let’s get this animal into the stable,” he said. “I’ll sterilize my knife and dig it out.”