“Of course not!” said Galen. “Barlow, just be reasonable.”
“Be reasonable,” said Barlow in a soft voice. He stood up and went to his window. He looked outside. There were apes lounging along the dusty road. They were there every day, whether there was a race scheduled or not. The apes congregated together, with little to do except make trouble for the humans. And Zandar and the gorilla guards did nothing to stop them. The humans bustled about, trying to avoid any confrontations with the apes. Barlow sympathized with them; what a poor life they had to lead, a life of running and avoiding. Apes like Zandar just aggravated the situation, almost encouraging the others to treat the humans in more degrading ways. And the results of all their cruelty crossed his desk as statistics to be sent to Central City. Sometimes the job was more than Barlow could bear. Dath took some of the burden, but the difficult parts of the job could not be delegated. That was something that Galen and his two human friends would never understand; that despite Barlow’s own private ideas, his public duty remained.
“There was a time when I tried to be reasonable,” he said in a low voice. “Now I’m less reasonable. And more safe.” He turned around and faced them again. “I hate it here,” he said passionately. “I want to go home. There’s a chance that I can—if I keep my record clean.”
“Ah,” said Burke bitterly, “I see.”
Galen looked disappointed. “Is your job more important than Greger’s life?” he asked.
Once more Barlow rubbed his weary eyes. How long would Galen and the humans press him? Why couldn’t they understand something so simple that even Dath comprehended and felt pity? There was a point at which Barlow knew he was no longer the conscience of his world; he had reached that point long ago.
“It isn’t a difficult thing for someone in your position,” said Galen.
“I have some sympathy for humans,” said Barlow with a great deal of ambivalence. “You know that well. But that is for humans when they behave and know their place. The young one is a fool. He deserves punishment.”
“Death!” cried Burke. “For saving Galen’s life?”
“No,” said Barlow. “For breaking a simple but important law. It’s a wonder the horse didn’t kill him. Those laws are made to protect humans, also. Only apes know how to handle horses.”
“I don’t think you really believe that,” said Virdon. “I’ve ridden horses since I was ten years old. That’s just another one of your ancient ape bits of old wives’ nonsense.”
“Humans can’t ride like apes,” said Barlow. “It’s been proven. It has something to do with skeletal structure or something.”
Galen snorted derisively. “From what I’ve heard these last many months, Alan and Pete could have given you quite a long list of things that apes couldn’t do. Where they came from, it was proven, too.”
“If it makes any difference,” said Burke, “I know personally that Alan is as good on a horse as anybody in this world.”
Barlow’s mouth opened, as he began to reply. Neither Galen nor his two astronaut friends had presented Barlow with an adequate answer to the prefect’s challenge. But something made Barlow fall silent once more. He studied the men, thinking. Perhaps, he told himself, perhaps he could use these humans. His attention moved from Virdon and Burke back to Galen.
“I must be certain of some things first,” said Barlow. “Before I make any kind of decision, you have to understand that I am in an extremely vulnerable position. Is he telling the truth?”
Galen smiled. “One thing that I came to learn early in our association is that my friends do not lie,” he said. “Remember that they are not typical humans.”
Barlow nodded distractedly. The beginnings of an idea were forming in his shrewd mind. He didn’t have all the details clear as yet, and he was slightly frustrated and tantalized by the possibilities. He remained silent, and his three guests waited patiently. “Let me put it this way,” said Barlow to Virdon, “I would be better able to judge things if you would be willing to prove your skill is not limited to talk.”
“That seems reasonable,” said Galen.
“I am a cautious ape,” said Barlow.
Virdon remained still for a moment, studying Barlow. “How does this affect Greger?” he asked. “That was the reason we came here.”
Barlow drew himself up, trying to look like more of an official than a friend. “I am prefect here,” he said. “I will handle this in my own way.”
“There isn’t much time,” said Burke. “And Greger’s not in your best accommodations, either.”
“First, Virdon will ride my horse,” said Barlow. “Then we’ll talk about Greger.”
Barlow, followed by Galen and the two astronauts, went out the back door and along a narrow footpath to a small corral. “That is my horse,” said Barlow. “The brown horse with the black mane in the corner. Its name is Woda.” Human handlers were working with the horse. Virdon saw that it was a high-strung animal, almost unmanageable. The handlers moved cautiously while putting a bridle on it. There was no saddle. Virdon studied Woda closely, his brow creased in a thoughtful expression. Burke looked first at the horse, then at Virdon. He was obviously worried.
Virdon spoke to Barlow. “He’s never been ridden, has he?”
Barlow maintained his poise. He did not want to dupe Virdon into anything, because Barlow was an honorable ape. But, on the other hand, this was a situation out of which Barlow might be able to win valuable rewards. The prefect knew that he had to proceed carefully in order to satisfy both his desires and his sense of honor. “No,” he said blandly, “he’s a killer. No ape has been able to ride him.”
Virdon laughed softly at Barlow’s words. It had seemed in the prefect’s office that this was to be a simple test of Virdon’s riding ability. Virdon could not understand why the test had to be with a killer horse. After a shrewd, penetrating glance at Barlow, Virdon turned away. His expression was disbelieving, and when he spoke, his voice was calm. “Forget it,” he said.
Galen reacted with surprise. He had not expected his friend to avoid such a challenge as this. Barlow had the same reaction. The prefect frowned. “Then you aren’t the great rider you say you are,” he said. “That makes me unhappy.” Barlow’s half-formed plans seemed to die there.
Virdon turned back to face Barlow. The astronaut could sense that there was more involved here than the question of the human’s riding ability. This test was part of some scheme of Barlow’s, and Virdon decided that he could scheme as well as the prefect. “Give me one good reason why I should risk my neck on a wild horse,” he said.
Barlow’s mouth widened slightly in a brief smile. He knew that Virdon was much more clever than any other human the prefect had known; but nevertheless, he was surprised that Virdon had interpreted the situation so quickly. The time for bargaining had begun. “If you can ride him,” said Barlow, still hedging against making a commitment, “and break him, I may be very helpful to you.”
“Here it comes,” said Burke.
“Prefect Barlow,” said Galen, “this young human may not mean anything to you, but he saved my life. Are you playing games with us?”
Barlow shook his head. “It isn’t me who’s playing the game.”
Virdon looked at Barlow, and saw that the prefect was perfectly serious. The blond man was convinced that the ape was not merely using Greger as a pawn in some devious intrigue. Virdon looked at Burke, then at Galen. The astronaut and the chimpanzee shrugged. “Well,” said Virdon, “let’s find out what’s going on. There’s only one way to do that.” He turned to Barlow. “All right,” he said “I’ll give it a try.”
Barlow smiled, evidently very pleased. “I’m glad,” he said. “I had a feeling that you would.”
“I had a feeling that you had that feeling,” said Burke.
Barlow went up to the corral and called to the horse handlers. “Put a saddle on Woda,” he shouted. The handlers nodded.
“I’ll bet your workmen out there are happy abo
ut having to put a saddle on a killer horse,” said Burke.
“They’re good handlers,” said Barlow. “They know how to protect themselves.”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Galen. “It makes me worry for Alan.”
“Don’t worry,” said Virdon, “I know what I’m doing, too.”
“I hope so,” said Barlow.
The handlers saddled Woda and brought the angry horse to the fence. Virdon climbed the fence and touched the horse’s face, then the top of its head, letting Woda nuzzle his arm and get used to his smell. After a while, Virdon began to climb into the saddle. The horse reared; as Woda brought its forelegs down, Virdon slid into the saddle. Woda reared again, nearly unseating Virdon; the blond man was halfway on, but he forced himself into riding position. The handlers prepared to move away. Virdon made a final check of the saddle and bridle. He was all set.
“Let him go!” cried Virdon. The handlers backed away, and Virdon was alone on Woda. The ride was on.
Woda bucked and rolled, trying to dislodge the unpleasant weight on his back. Virdon, who had ridden unbroken horses many times in his childhood and youth, could almost predict what the animal would try next. He shifted his weight and grasped with his legs. Woda snorted fiercely, but Virdon would not be shaken off. When Woda realized this after a time, he stopped bucking and began running. Horse and rider sped across the corral, over the fence, and across the fields in a dead run.
“I don’t believe it,” murmured Burke.
“But you said that Alan was the best rider in the world,” said Galen.
“I was just saying,” said Burke. “I wasn’t necessarily believing.”
“Now you tell me,” said Galen.
They watched as Virdon, using the reins, began to guide Woda around the fields, so that the run was no longer a blind, half-mad dash but a controlled gallop.
After a few minutes, when it became evident to those watching Virdon that the astronaut had the horse completely under his command, Burke, Galen, and Barlow were too astonished and elated to speak. As he flashed by the corral, Virdon managed a small smile of satisfaction; he was too busy to speak. Gradually, the exertions took their toll, and Woda slowed down. Virdon let the animal canter about the area, and then walked the horse back toward the corral. The handlers took the hard-breathing Woda. Barlow jumped down inside the corral and ran up to his horse; the prefect threw his arms around Woda’s neck. “What a beautiful animal!” said Barlow.
“Have you asked yourself why none of the ape riders were able to do that?” asked Burke.
Barlow turned to Virdon. “That was good riding,” he said. “For a human,” he added, in a sly voice.
Virdon looked briefly at Burke. Burke just shook his head. “Thanks,” said the blond man to the ape. “I’m glad you were watching.”
“I don’t think I ever saw a horse go so fast in my life,” said Barlow. “It was really amazing.”
“He is a beautiful horse,” said Virdon, turning and walking toward the fence where his friends sat.
“Tired?” asked Galen.
“I’m a little winded,” admitted Virdon. “But I haven’t had a ride like that in years. It was terrific.”
“I’m still amazed,” said Barlow.
“Maybe that’s because you’ve never seen a human jockey before,” said Burke.
“Jockey,” said Barlow, musing. “Why did you say ‘jockey’ and not ‘rider’?”
“Because anyone can ride a horse,” said Burke. “But a jockey knows horses.”
“Exactly,” said Barlow. “I was thinking much the same thing while I watched Virdon put on his excellent display. Now, I have a proposition for you. It ought to be clear that there are things that I want, and I’m perfectly willing to help you, if you’ll help me. You know me well enough to realize that I’ll stick to my word.”
“Of course,” said Galen.
“We’re not questioning that,” said Virdon. “What’s the deal?”
“I’ve been challenged to a race,” said Barlow, his expression becoming suddenly intent and serious. “I’m to put up my best horse against the fastest horse in this territory. I want you to ride Woda.”
Barlow’s announcement hit like a bolt of lightning. There was only stunned silence for several seconds, as the three fugitives considered what the prefect had said. Galen was the first of the three to speak up. “He can’t ride in a race,” said the young chimpanzee. “He’d be seen. Humans aren’t allowed to ride.”
Barlow knew that fact as well as anyone. He nodded. “Well,” he said, his voice suddenly that of a person formulating a deception or suggesting a conspiracy, “I do have some influence with Zaius. Not a great deal, but enough so that he would listen to my request. I think that I could get him to make an exception, for a single race. What do you say?”
“Is that a deal?” asked Burke.
“As I recall it,” said Galen, “a deal has two hands.”
“Why should I say anything?” asked Virdon. “I’m not interested in racing.”
Barlow held up a hand to stop Virdon. “Wait,” he said. “I wasn’t finished. Of course, I have something in mind to pay you back for helping me.”
“What were you thinking?” asked Virdon.
“Ride Woda in the race,” said Barlow, “and I will get Zaius to pardon your friend, Greger. If you win.”
There was only a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll ride,” said Virdon. “That’s the deal that I expected.”
“Just a moment,” said Galen. “What if he loses? A good horse and a good rider don’t guarantee a win.”
Barlow frowned. “I know that,” he said. “But I have confidence in Woda, and I have just as much faith in Virdon. I know what I’ve just seen, and I don’t think there’s a horse in the territory that could match it.”
“What if there is?” asked Burke.
“In that case,” said Barlow, “I won’t be able to save Greger from Zandar. Your young human friend will die. But if Virdon doesn’t ride, then Greger is certain to be shot anyway.”
“Yes,” said Virdon.
“If you could get a pardon for Greger if Virdon wins,” said Burke, “why couldn’t you get a pardon if Virdon loses?”
“Virdon’s victory will be a wedge,” said Barlow. “Something that I can use against Zaius. It’s all tied up together. You don’t have sufficient knowledge of the workings of the ape mind.”
“That’s for sure,” said Burke.
“But I do,” said Galen, “and I agree with Pete.”
“You, Galen, don’t have sufficient knowledge of the workings of the official ape mind.”
“Meaning Zaius,” said Virdon.
“And meaning me, too,” said Barlow, smiling.
“Another thing,” said Burke. “Alan, you’ll be riding in a race with apes all over the place. And every one of them will be hating the idea of a human on horseback. That’s looking for too much trouble in just the right place. I don’t like that part of it at all.”
“I said I’d arrange for permission,” said Barlow.
“A lot of good that will do when a hundred apes start pointing rifles at him,” said Burke.
“There will be protection,” said Barlow.
“Who will protect him from the protection?” asked Galen.
“I’ve still got a feeling there’s some kind of catch in this,” said Burke.
“Remember the joke about why the guy played in a crooked gambling house, Pete?” asked Virdon. “Because it was the only game in town.”
“Your jokes haven’t improved any in the last few thousand years,” said Burke.
Virdon laughed. “What I mean is, you’re ignoring the main point. We don’t have a choice. I have to try, I have to win. For Greger.”
“That’s it, precisely,” said Barlow.
“Prefect,” said Galen, “I hope Woda wins, of course, but I want your written promise that nothing will happen to Alan if he loses.”
Barlow nodded. “I promise
that I won’t interfere in any way with his departure from Venta.” There was no mention made of Zandar’s potential intervention. But, as Barlow had explained, the prefect’s jurisdiction over the gorilla garrison was virtually non-existent. Barlow, in what he thought was a gracious gesture, added to his statement. “The promise applies to all three of you, naturally,” he said.
Burke was still dubious. “What about this ape he’s going to race against?” he asked. “Will he cause trouble?”
“Why should he?” asked Barlow. “It’s only a race.”
As if to underscore the naive quality of Barlow’s answer, Urko and a party of uniformed gorillas rode into Venta the next morning. Even the garrison of local patrol gorillas moved aside as the powerful general of the ape military forces rode by. It seemed to many who watched that Urko and his troopers made more noise and raised more dust than four gorillas on horseback ought to. There was not a citizen or slave of Venta who did not recognize Urko, and the word of his arrival spread quickly.
The day had only begun, but it was the day of the great race. The excitement that had infected everyone for the previous few days had grown to proportions that had the police and the prefect worried. From Barlow’s house, runners with security orders kept entering and leaving.
The front door of the prefect’s house opened again, and Galen, Burke, and Virdon emerged. They walked to the street, where Galen’s horse had been tied. Galen was about to mount the animal when Virdon glanced down the street. “Wait a minute,” said Virdon. He grabbed his two friends and stopped them. They looked in the direction the blond man indicated.
Urko, backed by his three hand-picked soldiers, were slowly approaching on horseback.
“It figures,” said Burke. The three fugitives darted for cover around the corner of the house. Several tense moments later, Urko and the troopers rode past, not having seen the trio. Galen, Burke, and Virdon watched Urko go by.
“What’s Urko doing here?” asked Galen.
“It could be an incredible coincidence,” said Virdon.
“Somehow, I don’t believe it,” said Burke.
Planet of the Apes 03 - Journey into Terror Page 13
