Planet of the Apes 02 - Escape to Tomorrow

by George Alec Effinger

“I found this among Travin’s things,” said Lafer. “He got it from the stranger. And his own daughter is helping them!”

  Urko looked back to Travin. “Your daughter helps them?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Then she can die with them.”

  “No!” cried Travin. He grabbed at Urko’s arm, then tried to catch the reins of the gorilla chieftain’s horse. One of the guards knocked Travin aside with the butt of his rifle. The gorillas paid the humans no more attention, but rode hastily into the courtyard.

  In the operating room, the tense scene had ended. Kira was dismantling the transfusion apparatus as Burke watched over Virdon. The girl looked up weakly and made a motion, catching Burke’s attention. “Is he dead?” she asked.

  “No,” said Burke in a kindly manner, “he’s just sleeping. He’ll live now, thanks to you. The curse is gone.”

  “Thank goodness,” said the girl.

  “I don’t know,” said Dr. Leander, who stood at a window. The ape surgeon was still covered by Galen and the scalpel. Leander looked out at the courtyard. “Not quite,” he said quietly.

  Burke, Galen, and Kira reacted to Leander’s words. They hurried to join him and looked down at the scene below. In the courtyard, illuminated by the dancing light of torches and lanterns, the gorillas were fanning out, moving closer to the hospital buildings, to cover all the exits.

  Leander turned to the others. “You came here to use the operating room. Perhaps the room of the dead would have been more appropriate,” he said. His grim humor was not appreciated.

  Urko, accompanied by two other gorillas, headed down the main corridor of the building, only a few moments later. Their rifles were held at the ready, and they checked each door as they came to it, offices, storerooms, operating theaters, every niche that might serve as a place of concealment for the fugitives. Leander and Kira came around a corner, acting surprised to see the gorillas.

  “We’re looking for some escapees,” said Urko. “Two humans and a chimpanzee. We understand they’re here.”

  Dr. Leander did not seem to be the least bit cowed by the presence of General Urko. “Was one of the humans wounded?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Urko. “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know,” said Leander.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re gone,” said Leander, spreading his hands and smiling, as though he wished that he could be more help. “And I’d suggest you go too, as quickly as possible.”

  Urko stared, unbelieving. “Are you giving me orders?” he asked.

  “Not orders. Just a medical warning.”

  Urko looked across the corridor, where Leander pointed. The room there had a flag draped over its doors; the flag showed a white ape’s skull on a red background, with an X over the skull. It was clear to Urko what the hospital used that room for.

  “The room of the dead,” said Dr. Leander. “Our busiest room, the last few days, since the coming of the plague.”

  Urko recoiled in horror. “Plague?” he said.

  “The Black Death. Seven cases in the last forty-eight hours. When the strangers learned of it, they fled. Of course, if your duty compels you to search the hospital, please, don’t let me stand in your way. I have a very good record with the police. I always try to be as helpful as I can.”

  Urko stared at Dr. Leander as though the surgeon was the very embodiment of death. Then the gorilla turned and hurried back down the corridor, his aides following him. Leander’s final words still hung in the air, ignored by the armed gorillas.

  Inside the morgue, Galen and the girl crouched against the cold, white-tiled wall. Virdon lay on the wheeled table near the rear of the room, tended by Burke. Galen peered out through the small window in the door; as the gorillas retreated down the hallway, he sighed in relief.

  Later that day, Kira walked with Leander from room to room, on her regular rounds. She took his arm as they went down the corridor. “Why did you help them?” she asked.

  “I was afraid you’d be taken in along with them,” said Leander. “Purely selfish reasons, to be sure. After all, we were to have dinner again tonight” Dr. Kira looked up at him and smiled. Leander smiled, too, something rare for the medical director. “Besides,” he said, “if the police had arrested them, they might have found this.” He reached beneath his tunic and pulled out the surgical manual. Kira laughed out loud. Leander tucked the book back under his arm and he and Kira stopped to read the day’s patients’ reports.

  A few days later, after Virdon had been nursed back to an ambulatory condition, able to travel without making a dangerous situation for his companions, the three friends made plans to strike out across the country again, heading possibly for the ocean, where the cool, clean air would be a welcome change from the loud and bustling atmosphere of the city. The stitches had been removed from Virdon’s back, and he was only slightly weaker than normal. Dr. Kira announced that he was well enough to leave.

  That afternoon saw Burke, Virdon, Galen, Travin, and the latter’s daughter walking slowly along a mountain path, some distance from the hospital compound. They stopped and Travin pointed. “This path will take you over the mountains,” he said.

  “I still think you’d be safer coming with us,” said Burke.

  “No,” said Travin thoughtfully. “My people need me. You’ve shown me the truth. Now I must share it with them.”

  “You will be in danger,” said Virdon.

  Travin laughed softly. “The police won’t be back for a long while. When they do come, Dr. Leander and Dr. Kira will protect us, thanks to you.”

  “I’m the one who has to say thanks,” said Virdon.

  “Not to me,” said Travin, sadly. “In my ignorance and cowardice, I almost killed you. My daughter was wiser and braver than any of us.”

  Virdon turned to the girl. “I shouldn’t leave without knowing the name of the girl who saved my life,” he said.

  The girl hesitated, looking at her father. Travin nodded. The girl smiled. “It’s just an ordinary name around here,” she said. “Prunella Alexandrina.”

  Virdon’s eyebrows raised a bit. “Now that was worth waiting for!” he said. Burke, Galen, and Travin laughed, and the girl only looked puzzled. Then she, too, laughed.

  THE

  DECEPTION

  based on the teleplay

  by Anthony Lawrence & Joe Ruby & Ken Spears

  FIVE

  Many miles and many days from the medical compound of Dr. Leander, there was a quiet farming community of apes. The settlement was almost completely independent of the Central City, in that its inhabitants lived a self-sufficient existence. They needed nothing in trade from the Central City, because their little world was simple and unambitious. And, in return, Central City had almost forgotten them, because what the apes there could not exploit, they did not care about.

  It was about the middle of the summer, on a bright, clear day, that a large group of apes from this village had gathered on a hillside just outside their town. The grass smelled sweet, the air was clean and refreshing, and the breeze which came from the ocean was pleasant. The sound of waves breaking against the shore could be heard faintly in the distance.

  The apes were staring at a simple grave marker; upon its smooth surface were carved the words LUCIAN, FATHER OF FAUNA. Some of the apes wiped tears from their cheeks. Others stood stoically, however much they may have been moved by their emotions. They listened to an ape named Sestus, who was delivering a eulogy.

  “As for the ape,” said Sestus, “his days are like grass . . . like a flower of the field he flourishes . . .”

  Sestus was a serious, brooding chimpanzee. He was reading from a small, clumsily-bound manual. Near him stood a young female chimpanzee, Fauna, the daughter of the dead Lucian; she held a kerchief to her face, sobbing uncontrollably in her grief. On the other side of the grave, a gorilla police chief named Perdix stood, grimly watching the proceedings. Next to him, Zon, his deputy, stood with a rifle in his hands. Zon
did not show any symptom of compassion or pity, unlike his superior.

  Behind the gorillas were a dozen or so ape villagers, a mixture of chimpanzees and gorillas, all looking on with an attitude of proper solemnity.

  Sestus paused in his reading and passed one of his large hands through his hair, which was already streaked with gray; he gazed thoughtfully across the assembled crowd, but he gave no indication of his thoughts. After a few seconds, he returned to his reading.

  “For the wind passes over the field and is gone,” he said. “And the place knows it no more. Rest forever, O Lucian, Father of Fauna . . .”

  Behind Sestus the gentle grassy slope abruptly ended at the edge of an ocean cliff, and beyond that was the sprawling blue expanse of the sea. Sestus slowly closed the book and put his arm around Fauna, trying to comfort the grieving young female chimpanzee. Suddenly, she broke down completely. “Why?” she cried. “Why? How could they do it?”

  Sestus patted the young chimpanzee’s shoulder. Lucian had been his brother, and Fauna was his niece. She would be his ward, now, and the elder chimpanzee was a little concerned about doing the right thing for her. He knew that he wouldn’t always be sure what was right. “Savages, child,” he said softly. “They’re just savages. They don’t know any better.”

  Fauna cried some more. “That’s no reason. That isn’t any kind of an excuse. He said that he trusted them . . .”

  Sestus took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “You can’t trust humans, Fauna,” he said. “I warned him. You remember that, don’t you? You were there several times when I warned him of the trouble he was asking for. It doesn’t do any good now. Oh, I wish he had listened to me!”

  Fauna’s expression turned to one of hatred. “I hate them!” she said bitterly. “I hate them!”

  Perdix, the gorilla chief of police, listened to Fauna’s declaration and walked to join her and Sestus. His expression was fierce and determined, but softened somewhat with a more rational approach to the problem. Although he shared the apes’ general loathing and mistrust of humans, he always desired to proceed in a lawful and civilized way. “We will capture them, Fauna,” he said. “I make this promise to you on the grave of your father. The humans will be caught and punished for what they have done. Our laws and traditions prescribe the ways we must go about this, and we will do so tirelessly until we have captured the murderers of Lucian.”

  Fauna could only nod gratefully in response to Perdix’s words. His announcement signalled that the funeral services were over, and other members of the crowd began to make their feelings known.

  From the crowd, three apes stepped forward. They were well-known in the village, and their hatred of humans was as great as anyone else’s. They were a chimpanzee named Chilot, and two gorillas, Macor and Krono. Their mood was ugly, and it served as a model for the others. Chilot raised a fist and shook it at the police chief. “How, Perdix?” he demanded. His voice almost broke with the weight of hostility it carried. “Are you and Zon going to arrest every human being in this entire district?”

  Perdix stared at Chilot. The chimpanzee had caused him a great deal of trouble in the past, with his disregard for law. “If necessary,” said Perdix in a steady voice.

  “A hundred humans for every ape!” shouted Macor. “They will hide the killers among themselves! They will lie for their killers!”

  Krono grunted in agreement. “And now that they have tasted ape blood,” he said, his lip curling in a disgusted sneer, “they will kill again!” He pointed at the other members of the crowd, indicating that the next victim could be anyone—anyone at all. The frenzied apes returned his challenge with shouts of alarm, concern, and anger.

  Perdix tried to control the crowd; they had been put in a vengeful frame of mind by the murder of Lucian, and now the words of Chilot, Macor, and Krono were urging the simple villagers to take matters into their own hands. Perdix had no desire to see the crowd turn into a raging mob. “You don’t know any of that!” he shouted.

  He was answered by angry shouts from the crowd. “And you,” said Chilot, pointing at Perdix, “do you know that?” Perdix was at a loss for an answer. His sympathies might well have been with the outraged apes, but his responsibility was to keep order.

  Chilot took Perdix’s silence for tacit approval. He turned again to the crowd. He raised both arms above his head; the others quieted down when they saw that he wished to speak. “The time has come, fellow apes, Perdix, everyone! The time has come to unite!” There was applause and cheering; Chilot was appealing to both pride and fear. “Let us drive the humans out!”

  The shouts of approval from the crowd drowned out any further arguments for several moments. Chilot looked around and was pleased at the reaction he was getting. Perdix was growing more and more unhappy.

  “No!” said Perdix, when the noise had settled down a little. “This matter will be handled within the law. We have always been proud that we have been independent from the government in Central City, at least as far as our internal affairs go. If Zaius and the Supreme Council hear that we have resorted to murder, even of mere humans, we will attract their attention. We must keep to the law. And I am the law!”

  There was a moment of silence. Behind Perdix, Zon, the gorilla deputy, raised his rifle, not as a threat, but as a symbol of the gorillas’ authority. “You have heard,” said Zon. “All of you return to your homes. Now!”

  There was another pause, during which the apes of the rural village were undecided. They had rather enjoyed indulging themselves in an outpouring of hate; but, after all, Perdix and Zon did have the authority, and it was a funeral for poor Lucian. The angry crowd turned and headed back to the town, out of respect more for Lucian’s memory than for Perdix’s authority. Krono stopped suddenly and turned around to face the gorillas. “We will drive them out!” he shouted threateningly.

  Once more the crowd erupted into excited sounds of approval. Perdix stared coldly at the departing group. His thoughts were his own, and he didn’t bother to answer Krono’s challenge.

  Meanwhile, Sestus moved closer to Fauna and put his arm around the young female chimpanzee. She was crying, almost totally oblivious to the conflict that had just occurred. All she knew was that her father, whom she had loved more than anyone else in the world, was dead.

  A small gray squirrel stopped its frantic gathering of food as it heard the rapid approach of an enemy. The squirrel was not certain just who the enemy was, of course. But the heavy, lumbering tread that crashed through the forest’s thick undergrowth had to be an enemy. Everything that wasn’t a squirrel was an enemy. Even most squirrels were enemies.

  The tiny creature climbed part way up a giant oak tree, and ran around to the side opposite the approaching noises. It peered around the curve of the tree and saw a pair of large, smooth feet moving through the grassy space among the trees. Another pair of human feet was close behind. Then came ape feet, larger and more irregularly shaped. The squirrel stared, frightened for a moment, then ran up the tree to safety.

  At the top of a grassy knoll, Alan Virdon, Pete Burke, and Galen came to a stop. They rested for a moment before they started down the other side. All three were weary, but Galen was doing the worst. When they started up again, Galen waved and tried to cry out to Virdon, who was leading; the chimpanzee’s voice wouldn’t leave his throat. Virdon raised a hand, seeing something ahead. Burke stopped behind him, and Galen stumbled up to meet them. He, too, looked down the hill at where Virdon was pointing. He saw no danger.

  “What is it?” asked Galen.

  “Nothing threatening,” said Virdon. “I just recognized our position.”

  “How much farther?” asked Galen. His words were almost pitiably fatigued. “I’m about to collapse from this awful heat.”

  Virdon didn’t laugh. He knew that the shaggy-haired chimpanzee in his heavy clothing was less accustomed to extremes of temperature. Even though Galen had been forced to lead the life of an outlaw, he still clung to many of his old ways
and beliefs. He would never have considered trading his clothing for the lighter, more comfortable apparel of the humans.

  “It isn’t much farther at all,” said Virdon. “Another mile, maybe.”

  Galen groaned at the news and settled to the ground, where he rubbed his aching feet. Burke gave him a reassuring pat on the back as he, too, crouched down and handed the chimpanzee their canteen.

  “Cheer up,” said Burke, grinning. “Once we get to Jasko’s you can take a nice cool swim. I hear he’s got a lake in his backyard.”

  “Swim?” asked Galen, giving Burke a sideways look. “Very funny. You know that apes can’t swim.”

  Burke was all set to make one of his devastating replies, but Virdon stopped him with a quick motion. Virdon raised a finger to his lips and nodded toward Galen; the chimpanzee was suddenly alert. He heard something off in the distance, and now he was looking in that direction, “Listen,” said Galen. “Horses!” Each of them knew that only apes could own horses, and that apes meant a threat to their lives.

  Galen stared into the distance, one large hand shading his eyes from the afternoon sun. Below them a road ran through the greenery. The sound of hoofbeats grew louder and louder. Galen thought that he could make out the movement of horses along the road further off, but he couldn’t yet decide whether the flickering of shadows among the trees was caused by the movement of the horses or the shifting of branches in the wind.

  All at once, a racing troop of mounted apes broke from the cover of the trees several hundred yards along the road. Galen counted six horses. The riders were a mixture of four gorillas and two chimpanzees. Each ape carried a blazing torch; their identities were hidden behind fearful leather masks that covered the riders’ eyes and noses. “These provincial apes,” murmured Galen with a certain amount of condescension.

  Virdon indicated with a short gesture that they should move back over the hilltop, and quickly. They were open to discovery in their present position, outlined against the sky. Galen scampered briefly on all fours, then rose to his feet, and was in the lead as they dashed back over the top of the knoll.