Planet of the Apes 02 - Escape to Tomorrow

by George Alec Effinger

  “To all apes!” cried a Dragoon. The apes raised their mugs again, and Galen joined them. They took another drink.

  “To the Dragoons!”

  They drank a third time. This concluded the ceremony, and the apes shouted their approval. They laughed and drank up the rest of the liquor and clapped Galen on the back.

  “Congratulations, Phoebus,” said Sestus, filling up their mugs again. “You are soon to be one of us.”

  “Words cannot describe my feelings, Sestus,” said Galen. That was probably a very accurate statement, but Galen figured that Sestus wouldn’t know how he meant it; he was correct on that point.

  “And at the meeting later, you will get our leader’s final approval,” said Sestus proudly.

  “I do hope he accepts me,” said Galen.

  “Nothing to worry about,” said Sestus reassuringly. “Afterwards, you will ride with us in a raid on the humans!”

  Galen smiled weakly and tried to appear happy about the situation. He was glad that it was dark, that his companions were getting a little drunk, and that, actually, no one was paying very close attention to him.

  Virdon wondered about his friends; he hoped that Galen didn’t run into any serious snags in the village. The chimpanzee had a dangerous job to do. And Burke did, too; he had to stay alone in the cave, perhaps with Fauna. Virdon decided to stay with the gorilla he was following for just a short while longer. Then the astronaut wanted to head back to the cave; he knew that Burke would be getting edgy, all alone.

  Krono, the gorilla, walked his horse through the woods and into a small clearing. The open area was well-hidden from view, protected by dense woods and rock-studded hills on two sides. The clearing was well marked with hoof prints; the grass and undergrowth had long since been trampled down. Sawed tree stumps served in places as seats around a small fire pit. From his place of concealment, Virdon could see that it was clearly some kind of secret meeting area. Krono walked his horse across the clearing and tied it up to a small sapling. He looked nervously about the area, as though he had the idea that he was being watched.

  Virdon tried to move silently to a better position. He was hiding behind one of the large boulders on the small hill that guarded a side of the clearing. He watched Krono carefully as he slowly moved across the hillside.

  Krono removed a canteen of water and sat on one of the stumps, oblivious of Virdon’s presence nearby.

  Virdon studied the clearing and Krono, so that he could lead the police chief back to the place. He then started to move away, back to the cave and Burke. In so doing, however, he knocked loose a rock that clattered down the hillside. Virdon didn’t wait to see what Krono would do; the blond man started running.

  Krono looked up suddenly at the sound of the falling stones. The clearing had weighed him down heavily in mood; he had fallen completely under the spell of its solitude and peace. The rattle of dislodged rocks intruded sharply.

  There was a glimpse of movement, a few quick motions blurred by the dim light of the forest and the distance. But Krono was nonetheless certain of what he saw: a human, running away as fast as he could. That made sense, too; an ape would not be afraid and would not behave in such a way.

  Krono didn’t go through all of this reasoning while he stood and watched, though. It happened in the back of his mind, even as he dashed across the short distance that separated him from his tethered horse. He mounted as quickly as he could and spurred his horse on in pursuit of Virdon.

  Virdon skirted the far side of the hill and followed a rutted trail, overgrown in places, dangerously guarded by roots that made him stumble. All that he could think about was losing the gorilla somehow, and getting back safely to the cave. There had to be a way that a man on foot could lose an ape on horseback; surely the gorilla wouldn’t dare to follow through dense trees, where at the speed the horse was traveling a low branch could kill an unwary rider. The problem was getting to the woods before he was overtaken.

  Virdon’s mind raced on ahead of him, making and discarding plans as he ran. Suddenly, though, half-stumbling along the path, he came to a halt. His plans were as good as dead; he had reached an impasse. The trail ended at the foot of a sheer rocky slope. Behind him, the sound of the mounted ape came ever closer. Virdon searched with diminishing hope for cover.

  Krono galloped up to the end of the path. As he saw the rock wall ahead, he slowed his horse to a walk and eased it forward cautiously. The gorilla held his rifle at the ready. His eyes scanned the countryside; he looked up the rocky slope. There was no sign that a human had passed by.

  Krono examined the surroundings, carefully, cautiously, a little fearfully. He looked over to a tree, drawn by the rustling of branches; the noise hadn’t seemed like the soughing of leaves in the wind . . .

  He looked up slowly until he saw Virdon, crouching on a limb, half-hidden in the foliage. The human was a beautiful target as he clung shakily to the tree.

  Krono smiled as he raised his rifle and pulled back the hammer. He sighted along the weapon’s length. There was a raised sight on the end of the barrel, and Virdon’s terrified face was centered just above it.

  SEVEN

  Virdon stared down at the gorilla. The ape’s left eye squinted close as he took sight along the barrel of his rifle. Virdon crouched desperately on the tree limb, his mind racing. There was no where to go; there were no branches above him that he could leap to easily. Besides, he would be just as much a target in the process as he was now.

  Well, thought the blond man, if there was nowhere to go, he’d have to go there. He acted quickly. Virdon sprang from the tree, worrying only slightly about the injuries he might sustain; after all, if he didn’t jump, he could have the rest of eternity to try and recover from a bullet through the heart.

  Krono fired just as Virdon hit the gorilla, feet-first, in the ape’s massive chest. The shot went wild, and the booming of the rifle reverberated through the small canyon. Virdon and Krono fell heavily to the ground together. They wrestled, thrashing around the small bit of ground. It was a matter of the gorilla’s vastly superior size and strength against Virdon’s knowledge of self-defense. The battle was bitter and brief. At first, Virdon seemed to be a match for Krono; but the ape’s strength made him more than enough for Virdon to handle. Krono took the advantage and landed on top of Virdon. The gorilla’s huge hands locked together in a death hold on the human’s throat.

  It would not take Krono long to strangle him, Virdon knew. He had to act while he still had some strength left. With a final effort, he brought his legs up and over Krono’s head, crossed his ankles below the ape’s chin, and pushed the gorilla over backwards.

  Krono staggered quickly to his feet, grabbing a thick piece of tree limb as a club. Virdon watched him carefully, meanwhile finding himself a similar weapon. The two antagonists circled each other briefly. Then Krono charged, swinging his club in a roundhouse blow aimed at Virdon’s head. Virdon ducked under the swing and jabbed his branch into Krono’s midsection. Krono doubled over painfully, the wind knocked from him. Virdon stepped in closer and delivered a sharp uppercut to the gorilla’s chin. Krono dropped to the ground. Virdon stood for a few seconds, gasping for breath, staring down at his unconscious enemy. Disgustedly, Virdon threw away his wooden weapon.

  The blond man looked around him, wondering what to do with Krono, where to go, what effect this unexpected discovery and confrontation might have on the success of their plans. Virdon saw the gorilla’s horse, idly standing nearby, as though the violent scene had been a common occurrence in the animal’s life. It no doubt was. Virdon staggered wearily to the horse and opened one of Krono’s saddle bags. He rummaged through its contents and pulled out a Dragoon’s mask. Virdon looked at the leather mask with an expression of distaste. Then he tossed it aside, left the horse and Krono where they were, and started walking back to the cave.

  Burke continued to read from Lucian’s journal. He had not noticed that he had ceased to read aloud, though; so interested w
as he in the handwritten manuscript that he read silently, his face reflecting his amazement and curiosity. After several moments, Fauna interrupted his concentration. “Why did you stop?” she asked. “Don’t you like my father’s ideas?”

  Burke looked up, startled. He realized what had happened and laughed. “Oh, no, nothing like that, Fauna,” he said. “I’m sorry; your father wrote very beautifully. I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t reading to you.”

  “Yes, I’m glad that you like my father’s writing. I had no idea myself. He was very secretive about his work in the book. I think he was afraid to let anyone know what was in it, even me. But there isn’t anything to be ashamed of, is there? It’s lovely.”

  Lucian the chimpanzee had filled his notebook with thoughts that had come to him over many years. He detailed his reasons for living as he did, a kind of recluse, living even farther from the village than his brother Sestus. He explained why he liked the rough weeks he spent in relative discomfort, camping at the cave, experiencing the peace and quiet. His sensitive nature had led him to think thoughts that went ignored by the great masses of apes; this was the reason that not even Fauna had been allowed access to them while Lucian was still alive. These thoughts were what interested Burke, because they echoed thoughts that he had believed almost entirely extinct, among humans as well as their ape masters.

  “I’d like to read you some more,” said Burke, “but I’m going to have to put it away now. I’d better see what’s keeping Alar and Phoebus. They should have been back awhile ago. I’m worried about them.”

  Fauna sighed. “You’ll read to me some more later?”

  “I promise,” said Burke.

  Burke stood and went to the shelf. He bumped the rocks about to make noise; he wanted to give Fauna the impression that he was hiding the journal back in the hidden recess. But when he finished, he hid the book inside his shirt. “Will you be all right here?” he asked her.

  “Of course,” she said. “I’ll get the rest of the food ready while you’re gone.”

  “Fine,” said Burke. “Thanks.” He turned and moved past her, out of the cave.

  After he left, Fauna turned her head, tilting it slightly as she listened to him climb down the narrow ledge. She waited a moment, then silently followed him. She could not hear him ahead of her; after a short while she realized that she had lost him. Sadly, she found her way back to her uncle’s house, to begin her chores there. She would return to the cave later.

  Burke moved away from the shore cliffs toward the wooded area up ahead. He was unaware that Fauna had tried to follow him, and he would have been disconcerted to know that she had. Now his only thought was for Virdon’s safety; he had been gone a long time, which was unlike Virdon. The blond man did not take unnecessary chances. He ought to have spied on the ape and then come directly back to the cave. The only reason that Burke could think of for Virdon’s absence was trouble.

  At the top of a hill he stopped to survey the area. There was no sign of Virdon at all. Burke turned and saw Fauna in the distance, walking quickly toward her uncle’s cabin. He shrugged and continued on.

  He walked almost three miles farther, not knowing in what direction to search. He made some large circular explorations of the countryside. When Burke had almost decided to give up, return to the cave and wait for Galen, Virdon appeared ahead.

  “Alan!” cried Burke.

  “Pete!”

  “I was just about to give up. Are you okay?”

  “Give up?” asked Virdon. “Some search party you are.”

  “I didn’t see any reason for all of us being picked off, one by one. I figured that you’d either get back to the cave, and want to meet me there, or something had happened. In that case, me and Galen would be a lot better than just plain me.”

  “I know, I know,” said Virdon. “I wasn’t serious. I’m all right, except for almost getting myself killed.”

  “Well,” said Burke, with a surprised look, “what kind of a day would it be if we didn’t do that?”

  “That ape that I was following led me to the Dragoons’ meeting place,” said Virdon. “It’s about a mile from here, if I can remember how to get there.”

  “Good going,” said Burke. “Now if Galen has any luck, we could be in business.” He reached inside his shirt and took out Lucian’s journal.

  “Let’s hope so, anyway,” said Virdon. “But next time, it’s your turn for death and danger.”

  “You asked for it,” said Burke. “Anyway, I wasn’t aware that we were keeping score.”

  “That’s why you’re losing. What’s that, Pete?”

  Burke riffled a few pages of the journal, staring at it thoughtfully. “Fauna gave me this journal. Her father wrote it, but she never knew what was in it. I was reading it to her when I got to a part that really interested me. I guess I stopped reading aloud, and it was, probably a good thing. Lucian was talking about meeting some humans. They were humans he seems to have liked and respected.”

  “Fauna might not have liked that,” said Virdon. “Go on.”

  “Well,” said Burke, “he knew the apes in this area hated the humans, even more than in most of the rest of the world. But Lucian started to meet with them in secret, anyway. He was his own man—his own ape, I guess—and he was persuaded only by his own convictions. He wanted to share with the underprivileged humans the knowledge he had learned.”

  “Teaching humans,” mused Virdon. “Being friendly to them. That’s a subversive idea around these parts.” There was a pause, during which both men tried to understand what had happened. “Then why would the humans kill him, their benefactor?” asked Virdon at last. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “When did it ever?” asked Burke. The two men exchanged puzzled looks.

  Galen and Sestus declined the drinks that the other Dragoons offered them. As Sestus had explained, Galen’s initiation was not yet complete, although the final acceptance was usually only a formality. Nevertheless, Galen decided that he would prefer to face it as clearheaded as possible, and Sestus agreed.

  After Sestus finished his rounds and bought the supplies that he needed, they looked in on the Dragoons’ celebration again. It was still going on. “It seems to me that besides the useful work the Dragoons do,” said Galen, “the organization is a kind of social club as well.”

  “I’m glad that you see it that way,” said Sestus, once more turning down a mug of fermented fruit juice. “A lot of our members get very few opportunities to see each other and relax.”

  Galen frowned slightly. He thought about the kind of relaxation the Dragoons enjoyed: killing and burning, looting and destroying. It wasn’t his idea of a pleasant way to spend an evening.

  As the afternoon waned, the two apes walked slowly back to Sestus’ wagon. They climbed aboard and stowed the supplies securely. Then Sestus flicked the reins at his horse, and they began the journey back to the cabin. They made the trip without incident and with little conversation; as the wagon neared the small trail into the yard, Sestus reined up and stopped the wagon. Galen climbed down, then reached up to shake Sestus’ hand.

  “Are you sure that you won’t change your mind?” asked Sestus. “It would be an easy way for you to meet the other Dragoons who weren’t at the initiation today. Why don’t you come with me? It will only take an hour or so. It’s my duty to drive around and inform them all of the meeting tonight.”

  “No,” said Galen. “I really am very tired. It’s been a busy day for me. I’m not used to all this excitement. I think a little nap would do me good.”

  “My niece, Fauna, will see to you,” said Sestus. “Tell her you will be staying with us; I’ll return shortly.”

  “Fauna,” said Galen. “A pretty name.”

  Sestus remained silent for a moment, thinking of Fauna and her dead father, Lucian. “She is a gentle girl,” he said softly. “She’s blind. And Phoebus, she knows nothing of my, uh, activities. I would like it kept that way.”

  Galen nodd
ed his head. That fit in very well with his own plans. “Of course,” he said.

  “When I return, I’ll bring a horse for you,” said Sestus, suddenly remembering. “You’ll be needing it.” Sestus smiled, and Galen tried to return it. The young chimpanzee couldn’t tell whether he succeeded.

  Sestus waved and said goodbye; then he shouted at his horse, and the wagon creaked and rumbled out of the yard again. Galen stood watching it until it rounded the first bend in the road. He wondered if he had to accompany the Dragoons on a genuine raid. If he did, would he be able to bring himself to do what the Dragoons expected of him? Was he that good an actor?

  And then, what would Burke and Virdon think? They were so clannish about the treatment of humans. All humans, every one of them, whether the astronauts had ever met them before or not. Sometimes Galen felt that Burke and Virdon carried brotherhood to unreasonable limits. It was certainly impractical—look what it had done to them now!

  Galen turned and headed for the farmhouse, thinking these weary thoughts. He glanced away from the path, making sure that no one was watching, that Fauna or Sestus had not returned. Instead of going to the house, Galen headed for the cave. As he passed the cabin, however, he saw Fauna gathering some wood at a small shed at the side of the house. She looked up, sensing or hearing Galen’s presence. “Phoebus?” she asked.

  Galen stopped in his tracks, disappointed that Fauna had heard him sneaking by, a little amazed that she knew who he was. “Oh, hello, Fauna,” he said, adopting a startled tone that would sound as though he hadn’t seen her before. He went to join her. “How are you today? I came by here, but I didn’t think that anyone was home. Uh, how could you tell that it was me?”

  Fauna laughed. “I’ve had to use my hearing the way I used to use my eyes. How can you tell one person from another when you see them? Because they have distinguishing features. But your ears can do the same for you, if you listen correctly. Your feet gave you away. The blind can tell someone from the way he walks.”